Forgotten Honeymoon (3 page)

“You could say that.” Kelly looked at Lars to
share the humor, but he didn’t smile.

“So how are all the wedding preparations
coming?” Claire asked brightly, changing the subject.

Actually, now that Kelly knew about the baby,
the wedding was the least of her worries. “My mom’s handling most
of it. All I have to do is show up in three weeks, wearing a white
dress,” she said with false cheerfulness. Claire would learn about
the baby soon enough. So would Lars, if he stayed around that long.
She looked at him from the corner of her eyes. He was frowning, and
the knuckles of his hands holding the vase were white.

The elevator doors opened to her father’s
corporate headquarters.

She held the doors open. Claire stepped out
first, then Lars, carrying the vase, and she followed. She pointed
to a long thin table that stood in front of a tapestry landscape
she’d woven the year before. “I want it over there.”

“Glad to be of service,” he said in a tight
voice as he walked across the reception area.

“A little more to the right,” she
ordered.

He glared at her sharply over his shoulder,
but didn’t comment.

He was definitely annoyed with her. Was she
being too bossy?

He obediently shifted it an inch to the
right. As he worked, the gray fabric of his suit pants pulled
across his hips.

Nice buns, she thought, surprised that she’d
never noticed before. But then, she’d probably never looked closely
before. She wished Brenda had never said anything. She did not want
to see Lars in a sexual light. Lars was her friend. Whether he
continued to work for her father or not, she didn’t want their
relationship to change.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“No,” she said quickly, backing away. The
sooner she was gone, the better. Knowing she was pregnant was
wigging her out. Everything felt weird today. “Thanks for your
help.”

At that moment, her father came out of his
office. “Lars!” he bellowed. “How long have you been in town?”

Lars eyes focused intently on hers. “We need
to talk,” he said again, but more firmly this time.

Kelly looked from Lars, to her father, then
back to Lars. She didn’t want to talk to Lars. “Later,” she
promised. “I’ve got to run. See you later, Dad.”

She hurried, almost ran, out of the
office.

#

Frank Rawlins frowned. “What’s happening at
the plant?” he asked as he closed the large oak doors of his
office.

Lars said, “Don’t worry. Your plant’s right
on schedule.”

“I wasn’t particularly worried,” Frank said
wryly, “But I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” He watched Lars
pace across the office. “You’re making me nervous. Have a seat,” he
ordered.

Lars shook his head. He couldn’t sit. He
could hardly think. He wanted to take that damned infuriating woman
by her beautiful long hair and drag her -- he stopped himself. Drag
her where? To the nearest bed, of course, and that’s what caused
the problem to begin with.

He clenched and unclenched his hands.

How could she look at him with that sweet
little smile as if nothing had happened between them?

Damn her lying green eyes and damn him for a
fool. He never should have come back. He never should have agreed
to continue working for Rawlins. A clean break was always best. He
should have walked away and never looked back.

He would have stayed away forever if he
hadn’t gotten her wedding invitation in the mail.

“What’s the problem?” Frank asked. “I’ve
never seen you like this. You haven’t killed someone, have
you?”

“Not yet,” he bit out.

“Good,” the older man said with sudden humor.
“Because I like to know where all the bodies are buried.”

Lars turned to face his boss, his mentor, and
until recently, his friend. Frank Rawlins had been the father he’d
never had, the father he’d hoped to have. He took a deep breath to
cool the fire raging within him. He asked, “Is Kelly going to marry
Nigel?”

“So that’s it.” Frank relaxed and sat down at
his desk. He sighed wearily. “You know I don’t like the guy, but
she seems determined to have him. So yes, we’re going through the
entire circus. You should see Margaret, running around, fussing
over tablecloths and bouquets for the bridesmaids. She’s having a
great time, but I worry. She takes everything so seriously.”

Lars did not want to discuss tablecloths.
“How can you let Kelly marry him?”

Frank shrugged. “How can I stop her? She’s a
grown woman and she’s made up her mind. It’s my job to accept it
with good grace. That’s what the father of the bride does: he signs
the checks and keeps his mouth shut.”

Lars felt as if he were speaking a foreign
language. He slammed his hands down on Frank’s desk, sending papers
flying. “But she’s committing bigamy! Do you want her to go to
jail?”

Frank looked as if someone had punched him in
the bread basket. “Bigamy?” he repeated weakly.

“Yes, that’s what happens when you’re married
to two different people at the same time. As far as I know, it’s
still illegal in Texas.”

“Are you saying Nigel’s already married?”

Lars raised his eyes to the heavens. “No.
Kelly’s married.” He struck his chest. “To me.”

Frank gaped, stunned. “How?”

“We eloped.”

“But that’s wonderful. When?”

“March sixteenth. I take it she still hasn’t
told you.”

“No,” Frank said quietly. “She hasn’t told
me.”

Lars raked his hand through his hair. Hell.
He knew Kelly would never tell her mother, but he’d thought she’d
eventually tell her father. Did she think she could sweep their
marriage under a rug and pretend it never happened?

Frank asked, “Did this secret marriage have
something to do with your decision to leave Rawlins?”

“Yes. I thought it would be better for
everyone concerned if I wasn’t working for you.”

“Then it wasn’t because you were tired of
being my errand boy?”

“No, sir.” Lars still felt bad about saying
that, but he’d had to give Frank a reason for quitting, and he’d
promised Kelly not to tell him about their elopement.

Frank rubbed his forehead. “I still don’t
understand how you got married.”

Lars didn’t fully understand it himself. He
knew how he’d felt and thought at the time, but now, two months
later, it was difficult to be objective. Her rejection had colored
everything, making him doubt his own judgment. “It doesn’t matter
how it happened,” he said finally, not wanting to outline all the
painful details. “Kelly and I both realized it was mistake and
agreed to get a quiet divorce.” He frowned, jamming his hands into
the pockets of his pants. “I thought she would have told you by
now.”

Frank sighed. “There’s a reason why she
hasn’t told me, and I think you’d better sit down.”

Lars sat while his father-in-law outlined the
events of that fateful Tuesday morning two months before.

Then Lars stood and started pacing again.
“Why wasn’t I told about the accident?” he demanded.

“You were flying off to Boston, having just
given me your resignation. Neither one of us was talking much.
Besides, we didn’t tell anyone for fear it would get back to
Margaret. My wife thinks Kelly had the flu that week.”

Lars remembered the way Kelly had wound
herself around him, scorching his very soul with her kisses. She
had certainly been acting under the influence of a fever, but it
wasn’t the flu. “So she doesn’t remember anything?”

“No. She lost several weeks. She says it’s a
blank.”

That’s why she’d been able to greet him so
calmly outside. As far as she was concerned, they were still
friends.

This changed everything. Lars let his breath
out slowly. He was no longer angry at Kelly. How could he stay
angry when she remembered nothing?

For a moment he wished their whirlwind
marriage could stay blank in her mind. He wished he could exorcize
them from his memory as well. She didn’t love him, and she probably
never would, but at least then he could spend time with her, be
near her, enjoy her company.

Instead he’d risked it all, and lost
everything. He sank back down in the chair.

Frank walked around the large desk and put a
comforting hand on his shoulder. “If you and Kelly got married,
can’t you work your troubles out and stay together? You know
Margaret and I would be thrilled to have you in the family.”

Lars’ throat tightened. “No. It’s too late
for that. Kelly loves Nigel and she wants to marry him.” She’d made
that very clear.

Frank looked at him closely. “And what do you
want?”

That was easy. “I want Kelly to be
happy.”

CHAPTER THREE

Kelly climbed the stairs to Nigel’s apartment
two at a time, but when she came to his door, she hesitated before
she knocked. Should she have called first to let him know she was
coming over? He didn’t like surprises.

She had a sinking feeling that his immediate
reaction to her news wouldn’t be a positive one. But no matter what
he said, after he got used to the idea, he’d like it. He loved her.
She knew he loved her, and that was all that mattered.

He’d written wonderfully romantic songs for
her.

In time, he’d write sweet songs for the baby,
too.

But would he be a good father? She couldn’t
imagine him happily changing diapers or coping with a sick child.
He got impatient when things didn’t go his way, which meant she
might end up taking care of the baby with little help.

She pushed her doubts out of her mind. She
worried too much. He’d be a fine father. She knocked.

Nigel answered the door. “Kelly. Come
in.”

He wore nothing but a pair of silk boxing
shorts. His muscled shoulders were covered with tattoos. She
shivered, then stepped inside the entryway. She rubbed her arms.
She’d never noticed before how dark his apartment was. As soon as
they were married, she’d buy more lamps. She said, “I’ll wait while
you put on a robe.”

He laughed and kissed her check. “You are
such a prude. What are you going to do when we get married -- lock
yourself in the bathroom like the proverbial virgin?”

That wasn’t a very nice comment, particularly
when he had to know she wasn’t a virgin any more. She tucked her
hair behind her ears. “Did I come at a bad time?” she asked.

“No. I just woke up and was fixing breakfast.
Would you like some eggs?”

“No thank you,” she said primly. Eggs sounded
disgusting today. All food sounded disgusting.

“Suit yourself,” he said, and wandered back
to his kitchen, which smelled like bacon grease.

Since Nigel worked nights, he had a good
reason for still walking around unshaven, in his underwear this
late in the day, but she couldn’t help comparing him to Lars
Henderson, who had looked so crisp and clean today in his classic
suit and tie.

Lars. She didn’t want to think about him.

Kelly sat on Nigel’s black leather couch, but
immediately stood back up, confused by a sense of uneasiness. What
was the matter with her today?

Pregnancy hormones gone haywire were muddling
her brain. Nothing seemed right. All she wanted to do was go back
to her studio and work some clay. Getting her hands dirty usually
calmed her thoughts.

But that was cowardly. Nigel deserved to
know. She fixed a smile on her lips and went to the kitchen. Nigel
was putting bread in the toaster. This was the man she’d chosen for
the rest of her life. The father of her child. She put her arms
around his bare waist and rested her head against his shoulder.

He jumped. “What are you doing?” he demanded
sharply.

She shrank back.

He was immediately contrite. “Oh, babe, I’m
sorry,” he said sweetly. “You startled me.”

She reached up and put her hand on the side
of his face. “Kiss me,” she said. She wanted some reassurance that
he loved her. That she was still attractive. That everything was
going to work out and they’d be a happy family.

He kissed her long and deep. She felt
nothing. What was wrong with her? He put his hands at her waist and
pulled her closer. “Hey,” he said, nipping at her neck. “What’s the
matter?”

He seemed to be holding her very tightly. Too
tightly. she couldn’t breathe. She pushed her hands against his
chest, and spoke without thinking. “I’m pregnant.”

He let go of her immediately. “That’s not
funny, babe.”

“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “But it’s true. I
spoke with my doctor today. She says I conceived the baby in March,
and the only time it could have happened was during those days I
don’t remember.”

Tell me I’m not crazy
, she thought as
she searched his familiar face.
Tell me you love me and that
everything is going to be okay. That you want the baby.

His eyes narrowed. “You still don’t remember
anything?”

She shook her head.

He smiled nastily. “Well, Babe, you’ve got a
problem, because I’m not the father.”

#

Kelly drove aimlessly around Dallas for
several hours before going home. Her mother met her at the door.
“Hurry, Kelly,” she said quickly. “You’ve got just enough time to
jump in the shower and get dressed before we have to leave.”

Kelly stared at her with incomprehension. Her
mother, fully dressed in a Chanel suit, tilted her head to one side
and then to the other, as she put on a pair of glittering pearl and
diamond earrings. Kelly asked, “Where are we going?”

“I can’t believe you forgot. Tonight’s your
bridal shower at Cousin Estelle’s.”

“I can’t.” She couldn’t go. Not tonight.
I’m no longer engaged
, she thought, fighting hysteria
.
I’m pregnant, and I don’t know the father of my baby
.

“Of course you can,” her mother insisted, and
pushed her towards the large circular staircase. “You’ll feel like
a new woman after you’ve taken a shower.”