HER IDEAL MAN Page 13

  "We understand each other," he said.

  "You think you do."

  "Lance," Jake said, firmly. "Why don't you go on down? I'll drive Tyler."

  For a moment, Lance did not move. Then, abruptly, he nodded. "I'll see you there." He left, and Tyler watched him drive away with a sense of impending doom.

  Jake said nothing for a long time. Finally, he said, "He was just trying to help. He's worried about Anna—but I'm a lot more worried about you, little brother."

  Tyler turned, waiting.

  "I've got a feeling," Jake said, "that it's Kara in your heart today."

  Oddly, it wasn't true. "No," he said honestly. "I just … I just want to do the right thing, but I don't feel anything today. I don't know how…" He felt heat in his ears and looked away. "I don't know how I can make love to a woman I don't feel anything for. I know you guys think it's hilarious, but that's just not the way I operate."

  Jake lifted his eyebrows. "Looks to me like you managed all right when she was snowed in up there."

  "That was different."

  "I'd say maybe you're worrying too much."

  Tyler closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah." He felt winded, his head empty of all thought, all ability to reason. "I guess we oughta just get over there."

  Jake stood. "Last chance, Ty."

  Tyler squared his shoulders. "Let's go."

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  « ^ »

  By the time they got to the courthouse, a blustery wind had blown in, and Anna was glad for the warmth of the velvet dress.

  Still, her hands were shaking, making the small bouquet of roses and baby's breath quiver, and her head was filled with white noise that carried with it a blanketing, muffling protection. Louise led her into a small, ornate chamber where a judge in formal robes waited, along with Ramona and Tamara—who would, in an hour, be her sister-in-laws. Anna looked at them, and somehow the knowledge of what she was about to do hit her again with a wave of panic.

  Ramona, her long brown hair swept into a knot, seemed to sense Anna's sudden misgivings. She smiled and moved toward Anna with a reassuring smile in her warm brown eyes. "You look terrified," she whispered.

  Anna grasped Ramona's hand tightly. "This is very weird."

  Ramona laughed softly, putting her arm around Anna's shoulder. Quietly, her head close to Anna's ear, she said, "I've seen how you look at him. Things will work out."

  Anna nearly wept. Oh, it was too awful! They all knew she was besotted with Tyler. They all saw it in her face. They'd seen her sighing after him at family gatherings, which had led to Louise's matchmaking attempt, which had led to their getting snowed in, which had led to her making love to Tyler, which had led to her getting pregnant, which had led to this.

  Fiercely she gripped Ramona's arm. "I think I'm going to faint."

  "Come on." To the others she said, "We'll be right back. The bride is woozy."

  Firmly, Ramona led Anna out a side door, into the cold day, where snow had begun to fall. "Breathe deeply," she said. "I think you're hyperventilating."

  Anna nodded, and forced herself to take in a deep breath of cold, dry air. She tasted pine and snow, and thought of the fire at Tyler's house, and the way his arms had felt around her, and how beautiful he had been, sleeping by the fire.

  Exhaling slowly, she felt herself steady. "For days," she said, "I've been trying to pretend this doesn't matter to me." Tears rose in her eyes. "That it will be all right if things don't go well, and I can never win his love, but the truth is, Ramona, I fell in love with him the moment I saw him, and learning who he really is only made it go deeper. I don't know whether to be happy or terrified."

  And just as one of Anna's sisters would have done, Ramona immediately pulled Anna into her arms and hugged her tight, stroking her hair. "Oh, sweetie. He's the loneliest man I've ever known. He needs someone to love him that way." She stroked Anna's hair softly. "Can I give you a little advice?"

  "Please."

  "Don't make it too easy for him."

  Anna raised her head, finding that she could smile a little. "You mean don't accept a date for Saturday if he calls after Wednesday?"

  "More or less."

  From the other side of the building came voices, and Anna glanced over her shoulder. "Showtime," she said, and turned back. "Thank you, Ramona."

  The kind brown eyes twinkled. "Anytime, sweetie."

  So it was with rock-steady calm that Anna entered the chamber where she was to say her vows. A hush fell on the room as she entered. Alonzo, dressed in a dark blue suit, his black hair slicked away from his face, held out his arm, and Anna took it, lifting her head.

  At last she looked at Tyler, who waited near the judge, and the rest of the room faded away.

  He had cut his hair. It no longer gleamed down his back in a silver-gilt ponytail. It couldn't be called short, either, but it had been beautifully barbered into a neat, almost shoulder-length cut that framed his extraordinary face. Against the blue velvet tunic he wore, it was bright as morning, and his unearthly eyes glowed.

  Never—never—had he looked as much the prince as he did in this moment. The haircut seemed somehow symbolic to her, and Anna was glad he had done it, had made the effort to make a clean break, as if the warrior prince had come in from the killing fields and donned the dress of a civilized man to please the court.

  If only he did not look so dutiful.

  Anna kept her head high as she took her place beside him, taking his arm silently as they turned toward the judge. Beneath her fingers, the crisp muslin of his sleeve crumpled and grew soft, and at last Anna could feel the strength and heat at the crook of his arm. She looked at him, and found him looking down at her with a strange, boiling light in his eyes, and for a moment they were lost, simply staring at each other, until the judge cleared his throat a second time and asked again, "Are you ready to begin?"

  It was not meant to be real, she suddenly realized. It was dress-up. Tyler had hedged with the costumes, much the way she had hedged by thinking of a Catholic wedding. But as she stood there in velvet he had chosen with all kindness, she realized it was real. Somehow, his gesture had backfired.

  By some miracle, Anna had been transformed into a princess. As she said her vows, she remembered that she had sent out a wish to find some magic to draw him to her, and she had done so with the full knowledge that the price of magic was sometimes high.

  But she had been willing to pay then, and she was willing still. "I, Anna Passanante, take thee, Tyler Forrest, to be my lawfully wedded husband," she said. Her voice rang in the room, full and strong. "For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health—" and now she paused and said each word clearly, firmly "—as long as we both shall live."

  No one else could have seen the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, or could have noticed how his hands trembled when he slid a simple gold band on her finger.

  His voice was rough as he spoke his vows, but he held her hands close, and his gaze did not waver. "I, Tyler," he said in a low, rough voice, "take thee, Anna, to be my lawfully wedded wife…"

  And he held out his hand, calming suddenly as she put the ring on his finger, noticing as she did so that he had a dozen little nicks and cuts. She would have to see that he put salve on them in the future. His hands were too beautiful to be so neglected.

  "You may kiss the bride," the judge said.

  They stared at each other. It would be the first kiss since the night in the cabin, months ago. Anna quite suddenly didn't want it to take place here, in the view of so many others. She was relieved when Tyler, as stiff as if he were a puppet, bent and pecked her cheek.

  It was over. They were married.

  As if some magic had been holding her upright this long, Anna felt suddenly without bones, and before she knew what had happened, she fainted like some Victorian maid, right into Tyler's arms.

  * * *

  Acting instinctively, Tyler managed to catch Anna before she crumpled to the floor. He tho
ught about sweeping her into his arms and carrying her outside for some air, but suddenly found his arms had no strength. He sank to a kneeling position, her upper body against his chest, her head falling backward over his elbow.

  Louise bustled over. "Silly child. I told her to eat. You can't go around carrying a baby without getting enough to eat." She chuckled. "Been a long time since I've seen a bride faint dead away."

  Protectively Tyler pulled Anna closer to him, putting a hand out to ward off his mother, or anyone else. "I've got her. She'll come around in a minute."

  Just as he said that, Anna's lids fluttered, and she started. Tyler tightened his hold just enough to keep her from coming bolt upright. "Hey," he said softly, touching her check. "Are you all right?"

  "How embarrassing," she whispered. Her rosy cheeks flushed even darker.

  Tyler found himself reluctant to let her go. She felt soft in his arms, and a breast nudged his rib cage, and her waist under his hands was a strangely steadying sensation. "Don't be."

  Around them gathered his family, and Tyler felt a powerful need to shoo them away, to make them leave him alone with her. Which, naturally, he could not do.

  Lance said, "Don't feel bad, Anna. You aren't the first woman to faint in the presence of a Forrest man."

  She struggled upright, putting a hand to her head ruefully. Tyler stayed in his crouch. "Take it slow."

  Curtis shoved through the forest of legs and halted in front of them. "Daddy," he said severely. "You did it wrong."

  Tyler raised his brows. "I did?"

  "You're thupposed to kith her on the lipth."

  In his arms, Anna tensed instantly. Tyler reached for his son. "Later, kiddo," he said, and helped Anna to her feet. They would take this one step at a time. He couldn't think about later yet.

  Anna blinked fuzzily, and he wondered just how much of this was really penetrating. She looked a little shell-shocked. They simply stood there, awkwardly, while the family swarmed around them, kissing cheeks and offering congratulations Tyler held Curtis's hand so that he could be a part of it all, and the boy beamed happily as his aunts and uncles kissed him. Cody, not to be left out of the commotion, finally came and took Anna's hand on the other side. She smiled at Tyler over that, and a little gust of relief pushed through him.

  "Well," Louise said, "the bride is obviously starving, and I've cooked enough for an army. Let's move this party, shall we?"

  Tyler kept Anna's hand firmly in the crook of his arm and led her outside. "Carriages with footmen are hard to come by," he said quietly as they stepped outside, gesturing ruefully toward his truck. As per his request, it had been left alone, with no Just Married signs and no cans attached to the muffler. He would have hated the fanfare, and suspected Anna would have, too. "I did take it to the car wash and vacuum."

  She smiled, and he saw in it the real Anna, who'd been hiding since this whole thing had come about. "I have a thing about trucks. Carriages are for sissies."

  He smiled back, and for the most fleeting of seconds, they were alone in a world of their own making, separate from the others, who did not understand, who were not part of their joke or their world. It was an oddly pleasant sensation, and gave him strength.

  "Curtis," Louise called. "Come on and ride with me."

  "No!" he protested, clinging to Tyler's leg. "I want to ride with my mommy and daddy."

  Mommy. Tyler had thought he was ready, but the word sliced through his middle like a dagger. A sharp sense of lost chances and lost hopes swept through him, and he bent his head.

  "I don't mind," Anna said. "Tyler, do you care?"

  He cleared his throat. "Not at all," he said with effort. "You can be the footman, helping the princess with her dress."

  Curtis set his mouth. "Helping my mommy with her dreth."

  Tyler managed a nod. He felt Anna looking at him, but avoided her gaze. "Let's go."

  * * *

  The reception was interminable. Tyler had known he'd have to let his mother fuss and cook, but had put his foot down about inviting anyone except the family to any part of the wedding, so it was only them.

  Even so, it was undeniably awkward. Maybe because of Anna's faint, or because they were all aware of the circumstances of the wedding. Tyler didn't know. He was only aware of the forced smiles and joviality, the false heartiness of his brothers, the almost brittle brightness of his mother's smiles. Tyler wasn't a talker at the best of times—he'd just never really understood the need or the reasoning behind small talk and chitchat—but today every word he'd ever known seemed to have dried in his throat.

  Anna, too, was quiet, which made Tyler feel uneasy. He remembered her nervous chattering, her genuine effort to avoid nonstop talking at the cabin, and her inability to do it. He wondered what was going on behind her too-white face, behind those guarded black eyes.

  Only the two boys, Curtis and his cousin Cody, seemed unaware of anything off kilter. They zoomed around and tried to sneak sips of champagne and ate like little horses and cheered toasts and wanted to help tear open gifts. Gifts that embarrassed both Anna and Tyler. He could tell she was as uncomfortable as he was with the whole thing.

  Finally the meal was consumed, the presents were opened, the toasts were finished, and the group broke up into smaller pieces, leaving Anna and Tyler alone in a comfortable corner, a pile of silver and glass at their feet, ribbons and bows and bits of silvery wedding paper clinging to their velvet.

  "Are you okay?" Tyler asked.

  She gave him a rueful smile. "As well as can be expected, I guess. Is this weird or what?"

  He smiled, glancing over his shoulder to the other room. "Pretty weird," he agreed. "Maybe we should have eloped. It would have been easier.

  "And have your mother track us down to the far ends of the earth? No, thank you." She took a breath. "It's almost over."

  "Yeah." He plucked a triangle of paper from the skirt of her gown. "I haven't told you, but you look beautiful in that dress. I knew you would."

  "Thank you." She smoothed a hand over the plush velvet. "It was very thoughtful, and I haven't thanked you. It's beautiful. I was very touched."

  "Curtis helped. We had a good time."

  "Is it rented?" she asked. "Do we have to get them back by a certain time?"

  "No. It's yours. Maybe you'll have a daughter to give it to someday."

  A bright, vulnerable light flared in the blackness of her eyes. "Maybe."

  And then they were alone again, amid the chaos that always ensued when his family was together. The world narrowed to her rose-and-white face, to the vulnerable yearning in her expression, to the lushness of that red, red mouth, and Tyler felt his breath catch. "Do you have a wish for one or the other?" he asked.

  "Not at all," she said. "But I hope it has your eyes."

  "I was just thinking I hope it has yours."

  That silent, pulsing communication arced between them, and Tyler reached for her hand. It would be okay, this marriage. Whatever else, he genuinely liked her.

  "Daddy," Curtis said, breathless at his side. "Is it time to kith her yet?"

  The cocooning field evaporated, and Tyler grabbed his son by the waist. "You sure are a nosy little boy. What is this about kisses?"

  Curtis sobered, his blue eyes very wide. "Cody told me that's what his mommy and daddy do. They kith. A lot."

  Tyler glanced at Anna over the boy's head. They would have to be careful over the next few weeks to be aware of Curtis's eager eyes, his passionate wish to be part of a family. She nodded.

  "Okay, buddy. A kiss you want, a kiss you shall have." Thankfully, everyone else was in the other room, paying them no attention, because even the thought of kissing Anna brought a thick flush to his skin. The low couch was awkward, and he stood up, holding a hand out to Anna, who rose gracefully. A long black wisp of hair curled on the white flesh of her shoulder, and with some distant part of his mind, he wanted to kiss that place, wanted to feel that wisp against his face as he opened his mouth on her
flesh.

  So tiny. She was so tiny standing there before him, her eyes raised, her hand clasped lightly in his. Tyler tugged her close and put one arm around her shoulder, the other on her cheek, and suddenly his heart was beating very hard. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than this very thing, to be feeling her small, neat form against his, to caress the silkiness of her skin, to savor the anticipation of tasting—at last—that delectably kissable mouth. He had the odd sense of molecules and atoms magnetically aligning with the force of their meeting, felt a dizzy sense of rightness he did not question.

  He bent close, closed his eyes, and kissed her.

  At the press of their mouths, something deep within him exploded, a rush of denied yearning and loneliness and sorrow, mixed with the flavors of tea and sugar on her lips, mixed with the purely erotic sensation of her lush, giving lips, the nearly inaudible sound she made as he kissed, and kissed, and then sought entry to the honeyed darkness of her mouth. At the touch of their tongues, at the narcotic slide, he felt a brief, stunning recognition of the fit they made before the pure pleasure of it overtook him and he pressed her close to him, reveling in the press of her breasts against his rib cage, the guilty pleasure of her belly against his member, a member that grew more alert and eager the longer the kiss lasted.

  And it lasted, because he could not let her go. Did not want to stop kissing her. Forgot where they were, what they were doing, why he had begun. He only kissed her.

  And kissed her.

  And kissed her.

  Until she faintly pushed against him, and he emerged a little, just enough, from the enchantment to realize that they were no longer alone. That that heated, impassioned moment had attracted an audience. They were pretending not to notice, but he saw them from the corner of his eye, peering around the doorway, one or two, looking away when they saw that they were observed.

  Tyler didn't let Anna go. He caught her face in his hands and looked into her liquid eyes for a long time. There was no need of words.

  Lance, never one to tiptoe, made a whooping noise. "Three cheers for the bride and groom!"