That Wintry Feeling (Debbie Macomber Classics) (13 page)

Silently, he entered the room behind her, and for a second Cathy thought her mind had conjured up his image. Gently she shook her head to force herself into reality. Desperately she wanted to hate the virile man that walked to his wife’s side. Instead, she felt only a deep, undying love. Before she betrayed herself, Cathy made an excuse and left.

Paula Thompson met her outside the bedroom door. “I’m going to freshen up a bit. Grady said something about our all leaving for dinner, and I want to redo my makeup.”

“I’ll see if Angela needs anything,” Cathy said, avoiding looking directly at her mother.

“Cathy.” A hand on her sleeve stopped her. “I like Grady, but I don’t mind telling you I’ve been very worried about you.”

Cathy’s pulse rate soared to double time. Had her mother guessed her true feelings for Grady? “Why?” She strived to sound incredulous as she walked into the bathroom with her mother and sat on the toilet seat as Paula Thompson washed her face.

“You’ve been in Alaska such a short time. Are you sure of your feelings for Grady?”

“Honestly, Mom.” She laughed lightly, handing her a fresh towel. “Of course I am.” The words slipped out without thought. Naturally, she knew how she felt about Grady. But it wasn’t love.

“Stepping into a ready-made family has me concerned.”

“But I love Angela.”

“I can understand why. She’s a precious child.”

A smile parted Cathy’s soft mouth. Her mother was like this. Even when Cathy was a teenager, their most serious discussions were often done in the most unlikely places or under the silliest conditions. Once they had a terrible argument in the aisle of a grocery store about a boy Cathy was dating. Cathy guessed that her mother was uneasy bringing up the discussion and tried to do so in the most natural way possible.

“Probably the one thing that worries me the most is Grady’s business. I don’t want you married to a man like your father.” She didn’t need to elaborate.

Now it wasn’t easy to disguise her feelings. “Just because a man owns his own company doesn’t make him a workaholic.” Cathy stiffened and stood, easing her way around her mother in the small bathroom. “I know the signs.”

“Don’t make the mistakes I did.” Paula’s voice was soft in warning.

“I won’t.” Cathy prayed she sounded convincing as she left the room, silently closing the door.

Grady’s narrowed look sliced her as she entered the living room. She wasn’t fooled by the easygoing façade he had assumed in front of her family. He was angry. Cathy knew him well enough to take warning from the hard set of his jaw.

“You’re the one who looks pale all of a sudden.” The gaiety sounded forced. “Don’t tell me you’re getting pre-wedding jitters.” She tossed his own words back at him.

“No.” The word was clipped, impatient. The slant of his mouth didn’t suggest humor or a smile.

“Is something the matter?” A frown flickered across her face, drawing her delicate brows together.

“You tell me.”

Cathy hesitated, fighting the growing panic. Grady knew. With all the innuendos Steve had been hurling at him, it would be a miracle if he didn’t know. Dear Lord, how was she ever going to make it through the wedding? “I’m not up to playing guessing games with you. If you want to clear the air, that’s up to you,” she said in wary anger.

Grady rammed a hand through the thick, curly hair and walked to the fireplace, bracing a foot against the hearth. He turned, his eyes fiery, but the anger was quickly disguised.

Hands clenched in front of her, Cathy watched the transformation in Grady’s features and followed his gaze.

“Can I give Cathy the present now, Daddy?” Angela requested softly. “Remember, you said I could be the one to give it to her.”

He answered his daughter with a curt nod.

Angela skipped down the hall and returned a minute later with a brightly wrapped box. “Daddy said that its trad—” She stumbled over the word.

“Tradition.” Grady helped her out.

Angela shook her head, the soft curls bobbing with the action. “Daddy said it was tradition for the bribe to get a wedding gift from the groom.”

“Bride,” Grady corrected.

“This is yours. Daddy and I bought it together.” Proudly, she handed Cathy the small package.

Cathy’s eyes met his across the room. She hadn’t gotten him a gift. She wanted to apologize, make an excuse, but nothing seemed to make it past the lump of surprise growing in her throat.

“Go ahead, open it,” Angela encouraged. “I wanted to buy you a real pretty tea set, but Daddy said you needed this more.”

Slowly Cathy lowered herself to a sitting position, and almost immediately Angela joined her. It was obvious the child had wrapped the gift. It looked as if a whole roll of cellophane tape had been used. The bow was glued on top and the paper was twice the size needed.

“Do you want me to help you?” Angela volunteered, eagerly ripping away the pink bow.

The paper revealed a jeweler’s box. Cathy paused, glancing up at Grady.

“Go ahead, open it,” Angela urged. “Daddy said you needed one of these real bad.”

Returning her attention to the oblong velvet case, she gently lifted the lid. An expensive gold watch and intricate watchband stared back at her. A rush of pleasure and surprise shot her gaze to Grady. “It’s beautiful.” Silly tears filled her eyes, blurring the tall male figure across the room. “Thank you.”

“Daddy said you’d like it.” Angela sounded so proud. Cathy reached for her, hugging her close as a tear weaved a crooked path down her face. So many times over the past weeks Grady had teased her about her watch and her timekeeping methods. No gift could have been more
perfect. No gift could have touched her more.

Suddenly, Grady was there, kneeling at her side. He took the case from her hand. “Let me help you put it on.”

Placing a hand on either side of his face, she turned his head toward her. Only a few inches of space separated them, but from the hard look in his eyes it could have been several miles.

“Thank you,” she repeated softly, and gently laid a tearstained cheek over his.

Grady emitted a low groan as he tilted his head slightly and unerringly located her mouth. The kiss was hard and deep, pressing his mouth against her teeth, grinding her lips. Cathy didn’t fight him, but remained passive under the brutal possession. There was pleasure with the pain, almost as if the pain were necessary for her to experience the pleasure.

“Do you still want to thank me?” He breathed the question against her throat.

“Yes.” Her response was so low Cathy barely heard herself speak.

“Is that the way people kiss all the time?” Angela queried.

Cathy had forgotten the little girl’s presence, as she was sure Grady had.

“Not always,” Grady murmured, his voice faintly husky. He broke the contact, and Cathy marveled at his control. Outwardly, he appeared unmoved by their exchange, while she was left breathless and uncertain. He paused and unemotionally removed the watch from the black velvet case and placed it on her wrist.

“Throw the other one out,” he said in a jeering demand, stood, and stalked to the other side of the room.

Cathy understood what he was asking. He wanted her to throw away the past, to begin again. On shaking legs she stood, walked to his side at the fireplace, opened the screen, and carelessly tossed the old watch inside.

Grady’s arm circled her waist, bringing her close to his side. Cathy felt his harshly released breath against her hair.

* * *

Paula Thompson left the hotel room, kissing Cathy on the cheek and promising to meet her at the church. A tear sparkled in her mother’s eyes as the door closed with a soft clinking sound.

Dressed and ready, Cathy wore a close-fitting white wool suit. She had purchased it just as Linda suggested, without thought or concern, but now she realized that the outfit couldn’t have been more perfect.

Hauntingly beautiful
was the term her mother had used.
Haunting
was the word Cathy would agree upon.
Beautiful
she wasn’t sure. She didn’t feel beautiful. Scared, tense, nervous, wanting to get this whole thing over as quickly as possible were the sensations that came to her. This should be the happiest day of her life, and she felt much as she had at her father’s funeral. With a deep sense of loss and fear of what the future would hold.

Someone knocked at the hotel room door. Cathy glanced at the new gold watch, thinking Linda and Dan were early. Not that it mattered. She was ready. Arrangements had been made for them to take her to the church.

Only it wasn’t Linda and Dan.

“Steve.” She breathed his name with a sense of unreality.

His look was haggard as he pushed his way past her into the room.

Her hand still on the doorknob, Cathy closed her eyes. Looking at him, seeing the torment in his eyes, knowing her own doubts were there for him to see, was almost more than she could bear. “Where’s MaryAnne?” Desperately, she hoped her sister’s name would be enough to bring him to his senses.

A hand on each shoulder pinned her against the wall as his mouth greedily sought hers.

Cathy fought him as long as she could. Frantically, she shifted her face from side to side in an effort to free her lips. But she was too weak against his superior strength. Palms pushing against his chest, she tore her mouth from his. From the moment Steve had walked off the plane she had worried something like this would happen. Desperately, she was afraid that once he touched her she wouldn’t have the will to resist him. She was wrong. His kiss didn’t ignite any spark of desire. She felt nothing. Nothing.

“Don’t,” she pleaded. “Don’t.”

Steve reached for her again, but she took a step in retreat, her legs trembling so badly she was afraid she’d fall directly into his arms. “Please.” Her arm extended out in front of her in an effort to ward him off.

Steve took one step toward her and paused. “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll leave.”

Did she love him? The pain of his betrayal had been so sharp and so intense she had
assumed her love for him was as strong today as it was the day he married her sister. But was it?

He must have recognized the indecision on her face. Steve extended a hand to her, palm up, imploring. “I love you.” The admission came on a husky whisper. “I’ve loved you forever. I was wrong to ever let you go. To have married MaryAnne.”

Now it wasn’t only her legs that were trembling, but her whole body. “She’s my sister!” Cathy shouted, because it was the only way she knew to fight him. “MaryAnne is going to have your baby.”

Steve ran a weary hand over his face. “I should never have married her.”

“But you did,” she reminded him forcefully.

His gaze was riveted to her face. “You don’t love Grady. Why are you doing this? Why are you marrying him when you love me?”

Cathy swallowed at the lump of painful hoarseness in her throat. “Why did you marry my sister when you didn’t love her?” Her only defense was to keep reminding herself that it was MaryAnne, her pregnant sister, who was involved in this. The younger sister she’d loved and protected all her life.

“Come with me,” Steve begged. “Now, before it’s too late. We can fly out of here before anyone knows we’re gone.”

“What a touching scene.”

Shock came crashing in on Cathy as she saw Grady poised in the open door. His mouth, his eyes, his jaw, every feature stamped with undisguised contempt.

Steve recovered first. “She doesn’t love you.” He triumphantly hurled the words at Grady. “It’s me she cares about.”

Grady shrugged, as if her feelings were of no significance to him. He walked into the room and closed the door. “You two are so in love with each other, it doesn’t matter whose life you ruin, is that it?”

“Cathy loves me and I love her.” Steve came to stand protectively at her side. “No one can stop us now. Not even you, Jones. I’ll kill you rather than let you take Cathy now.”

Grady flicked a hair from the shoulder of his suit coat, again giving the impression of lazy indulgence. “I welcome the opportunity for you to try,” he said in a low drawl. “But there’s no need for us to fight when Cathy can make her own decision.”

“Tell him you love me and are coming with me,” Steve implored, his fingers biting into
her shoulders.

Cathy stared blankly from one man to the other in shocked dismay. Her head was screaming one thing and her heart pleading another.

When she hesitated, Steve paled visibly. “Darling, I was wrong to marry MaryAnne. You’d only be worsening the situation to marry Grady. Don’t ruin the rest of our lives.”

“Well?” Grady questioned, his eyes as hard as stone.

Paralysis gripped her throat.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Steve said, a desperate ring to his voice.

Why did Steve make sense? Was it her heart? The memory of her sister’s expression as she placed a loving hand over her abdomen flashed through Cathy’s mind. She looked to Grady. He stood proud and tall. He wouldn’t tell her he loved her, he wouldn’t issue a single word of inducement. Not that he needed her, not that he wanted her. Nothing.

The heart that had only begun to mend shattered again as she walked to Grady’s side and placed her hand on his arm. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Steve slump to the bed and defeatedly bury his face in his hands.

* * *

Everyone was waiting at the church when Grady and Cathy arrived. With time to compose herself, Cathy freshened her makeup and offered her sister and Linda a feeble smile.

“You look as nervous as I did the day Steve and I were married,” MaryAnne said with a laugh. “And speaking of Steve, he phoned the church a few minutes ago. He’s feeling sick. I think it may be something he ate yesterday. You don’t mind if I slip away after the ceremony, do you? I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Of course,” Cathy assured her.

Standing in the church foyer, Linda pinned the pink rosebud corsage onto Paula Thompson’s dress before handing Cathy a small bouquet of the same color flowers.

“That Grady.” Linda laughed, retying the sash to Angela’s pink satin dress. “I told him he wasn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding, but he insisted he do the honors instead of Dan and me. I imagine you were shocked when you opened the hotel room and discovered your husband-to-be.”