THE HONOR BOUND GROOM Read online

  "All right, ladies. You can see I brought a tableful of dolls tonight. We're going to practice diapering and burping skills and all the things you need to know about taking care of a newborn. After that, we'll practice our breathing exercises…"

  Once Mrs. Riley verbally wound up on lecture mode, she always had a tough time winding down. Yet Kelly heard the teacher's voice suddenly falter before going on. One head turned toward the doorway, then another. By the time Kelly realized a new face had entered the classroom, a pair of wing tip shoes had already made their way to her side. Mac. He hunkered down next to her in a navy suit and starched white shirt, looking as if he were an exotic panther in a room full of plump wrens. His attire was totally unlike everyone else's casual clothes, but that wasn't why every female eye in the place zoned on him.

  Something curled in her stomach. She couldn't name the emotion disturbing her pulse, but it had nothing to do with recognizing he was a hunk, nothing to do with startled surprise that he could possibly be here. Maybe it was just realizing that he'd been "Mr. Fortune" all these months for her no different than for everyone else … but not anymore. He'd become Mac, a man she knew well enough to notice the tired circles under his eyes, to worry whether he'd caught enough food or sleep. And she was aware that his air of command had aroused the other women's interest—no mean feat, considering that some of the women were close to term and had verbally sworn off sex and men for the rest of their lives. But Mac seemed oblivious to creating that little stir when he walked in, which struck Kelly as more telling evidence that her husband was alone. Really alone, no matter where he was. And used to it.

  "I'm sorry I'm late," he murmured next to her ear.

  "I never expected you to make it at all—"

  "I told you I would."

  Apparently Mac thought that settled it. He'd given her his word. "But I thought you were in New York. And that takeover thing sounded a huge problem—"

  "It is. But it'll still be there tomorrow." He shagged the knot on his tie to loosen it, and whispered, "Can you fill me in on what we're doing here so I'm not in disgrace on the first test?"

  She hadn't forgotten the class. It was just temporarily she couldn't seem to pay attention to anyone else in the universe. "You sicced a painter on me."

  "Uh-huh. Nice guy, got four kids of his own. I can guarantee he won't let you lift a thing. And I know you told me you wanted to paint the room yourself. My theory on that problem was to see how you took to bribery. You can win the next ten arguments if you let me win that one."

  "You think I'm buying that Las Vegas dollar?" His gaze was roaming her face, making her nervous. There was nothing sexual between them—she'd already told herself that several dozen times. And she knew he felt responsible for her, so he was just probably studying her to make sure she didn't look sick or overtired or something.

  "How's our baby today?"

  "Our baby's doing wonderful, but I'd better warn you before you get home, I don't get the security system, Mac. I set it off twice today. Really goofed it up. I'm sorry, Benz and Martha went over and over it with me, but—"

  "Don't worry about it. I'll go over it with you. And you'll get it, Kel."

  The crazy thought occurred to her that she could probably get anything if Mac kept looking at her that way. Like he cared. Like she meant something to him. Like he wasn't quite sure what the sam hill this woman was doing in his life, but he wanted to be right here, next to her, figuring it out.

  Kelly told herself to get a grip; she knew perfectly well the pregnancy had a kaflooey effect on her hormones … but then Mrs. Riley's strident voice helpfully smacked her back to reality.

  "Miss Sinclair? I really don't want you to miss any of the material we're covering tonight—"

  Mac quietly responded before Kelly could. "It's Mrs. Fortune now, not Miss Sinclair."

  "Mrs. Fortune," the teacher echoed. The way her posture perked up, it was pretty clear she recognized the last name. "And you are—?"

  "Her husband. And we apologize for talking and interrupting the class. I'm hoping you won't give us a detention if we don't do it again."

  That brought a laugh, but the rest of the class was an unsettling experience. Mrs. Riley had a basket of dolls set up at the front of the room. She illustrated a variety of things, from diapering to burping techniques to the safe methods of holding a newborn, and then let the class loose with the life-size dolls to practice. Mac waded in with everyone else.

  His first diapering attempt looked brilliant, except when he lifted the doll, the diaper fell off. His look of total bewilderment made her chuckle, but when he tried again, his brow furrowed in intense concentration as if mastering this diapering business were on a par with finding a solution to world peace. Four tries later, he shot her a triumphant grin—the diaper had stayed on. Only he abruptly seemed to realize that everyone else had finished and were back down on the mats except for him and Kelly.

  "Oops," he murmured. "You seem to be stuck with the dunce of the class. How's your patience level with slow learners?"

  "Are you kidding? We'll have the best diapered baby on the block. But it does seem like you might have just a teensy perfectionist streak…"

  "Me?"

  Cripes, he made her chuckle again, and she thought Darn you, Kelly, don't you dare fall in love with him. It wasn't as if he never told her about his willingness to be a dad, but she just assumed he was coming from a sense of responsibility. Not that he meant it from the heart. Yet he listened to Mrs. Riley as if her words were worth gold. He took notes. He burped the doll with such a dead serious expression that two beads of sweat broke out on his brow. He studiously absorbed the information about "cradle cap" as if nothing could possibly interest him more.

  Darn it, he was darling. And his treating her with such sensitivity and perception had already ransomed a corner of her heart, but this was worse. Possibly the baby was going to be grown up and driving before Mac figured out diapers—he was just a tad on the perfectionist side—but the thought kept pouncing in her mind that he was going to be a preciously loving dad.

  Mrs. Riley put the class through their breathing exercises, then let them go—after announcing that the last class would show a movie of a live birth; coaches needed to be sure to come as well as the expecting moms.

  "You don't have to go to that last class if seeing something like that would make you uncomfortable," Kelly told him as they put on coats and headed outside.

  "Now I know you said you didn't want a coach, but unless you object, I'd still like to attend whatever classes are left. I wasn't kidding about knowing nothing about babies, Kel. I'm an uncle several times over, but you know my family. The women all cluster around the kids. The guys don't have a chance." He pushed the door open, and hooked an arm around her shoulder when he saw the slippery walk outside.

  The icy night wind burned her cheeks, but she felt protected and snuggled against Mac's shoulder. "I see your car instead of Benz's, so I assume you managed to connect with him—"

  "Yeah, I reached him on the car phone, so he'd know I was picking you up."

  "Did you have a chance to eat dinner?"

  "I'll just catch something when we get home."

  She hesitated. Between the flying back and forth and all the heavy business—and his hustling to keep his word about making the class—she suspected he could have missed lunch as well as dinner. "There's a really good place just a block from here, if you don't mind plain cooking—"

  "It's okay, Kel. I know you have to be tired."

  She was tired, but it was just "pregnancy tired." She woke up ready to snooze; it wasn't as if she'd overdone anything that day. And so far she hadn't caught Mac confessing to one need for himself, which left her no recourse except sneakery. "Mac?"

  "What?"

  She tried out her most innocent expression. "I'm awfully hungry myself."

  Mac immediately walked faster. "Well, heck, you should have said."

  Less than twenty minutes later, he h
ad a giant plate of lasagna in front of him and was diving in like a starving wolf. This late, they almost had the quiet ma-and-pa restaurant to themselves. If the place had a decor, it was early-family. The specialty was home cooking; the cook was singing in the back, and photos of the real ma and pa's grandchildren were displayed behind the register. So were the freshly baked desserts, which Kelly had noticed before Mac.

  "Don't tell me you're not going to have a nightmare from that." He motioned to the plates in front of her—a giant piece of lemon meringue pie with a side order of pickles.

  "The baby loves pickles," she assured him. "Preferably kosher dills, but at two in the morning, the baby isn't usually too picky."

  "And does the baby usually prefer that you eat your pickles with lemon meringue pie?"

  "Well, I'd rather have the pickles with a toasted almond ice-cream bar, but they're hard to find. Lemon meringue pie will do in a pinch. I don't know how you can resist a slice—"

  "Maybe later. Right now I'm having too much fun watching you indulge," Mac said dryly. "Is this an example of an expectant mom's food cravings?"

  Mostly she was enjoying watching him inhale the homemade lasagna—there was no question he'd been starving. "I always thought the food cravings were an old wives' tale, and I can't believe I fell for pickles. It's such a cliché. Would you believe I always hated pickles before I got pregnant?"

  "You could have fooled me."

  "Now I take nutrition for the baby seriously. But my mom had this theory … if a pregnant woman craved some food, maybe there's something in that food that the baby really needs."

  "I think that's a fascinating justification for being a pickle addict."

  She grinned. "It could be worse. One of the women in the class is hot for snails."

  "Oh, God. How about if we don't put that idea in your head, okay?"

  They didn't linger after eating, but by the time they walked back to his car, she had him laughing. The sound hit her ears like riches. She'd never really heard him laugh before … Mac just never seemed to forget his responsibilities long enough to unbend and have some fun. A rare feeling of feminine power made her feel buoyant. She'd done something good for him, and it showed in his loose-limbed stride and the smile crinkles around his eyes.

  On the ride home, he turned more serious, but the stiffness between them was gone. It was as if that laughter had broken some emotional ice, and talking seriously was more like confiding. "For an hour-long class, I kind of caught an earful. Some of the women were talking about developing high blood pressure and prenatal diabetes and—"

  She hustled to cut those worries off at the pass. "I don't have any of those high risks, Mac. The only health problem that's developed for me with this pregnancy is greed. I've got an appetite that won't quit. And a lot of those health problems tend to run in families. My mom had an easy birth. So should I."

  "Well, not to ask a personal question, but did your mom happen to have those infamous 'skinny hips'?"

  "Maybe not skinny, but she was on the slender side. I realize this must take a great leap of faith to believe, but I swear I'm normally smaller than the Titanic myself."

  "Give it up, Tiny. Your only credit to fame is that tummy. So … where'd you grow up?"

  The heat started kicking in. The flashing city lights faded once Mac turned off onto the darker, quieter country roads. Feeling cocooned in a private world with him made her feel more comfortable talking. She named the neighborhood where she'd grown up, which was about a planet difference from where he had. "I've never made a secret of being illegitimate. Mac, I never knew my dad—he took off on my mom about thirty seconds after she told him she was pregnant. His loss. My mom really had to struggle financially to make it, but every memory I have of her is precious. I never doubted for a second that I was loved. She was an incredible person."

  "You miss her."

  Kelly nodded. "Yes, but the way I miss her has changed. When she first died, I thought I'd die, too … but somehow over time the same memories that first hurt the most are the ones I love to remember now. You lost your mom, too—"

  "Yes. And I know exactly what you mean. The grief was overwhelming when she first died. But now when those memories come back, it's like she's part of me, right there. I'm just sorry Chad and Chloe never had the years with her that I did."

  She hesitated. There were things she'd tried to tell Mac about Chad before, but his brother was inevitably an uncomfortable, touchy subject between them. Possibly there was no way it could be otherwise, but while they were talking so easily, it seemed a good time to get some things out in the air that needed clearing up.

  "When I was growing up, it was a big thing with me … not wanting to disappoint my mother. She did so much and she never complained. But she was also really strict … like makeup was forbidden. I always had a ten o'clock curfew, and I worked from the time I was a teenager so there'd be few chances to date. She wasn't mean about the rules, it was just that she felt so strongly—the one thing in life she didn't want me to do was get pregnant before I was married the way she did."

  Mac glanced at her. "Kelly, that's a mistake people have been making since the beginning of time. It happens. Everyone's human."

  "I realize that, but…" She hesitated again. "Mac, when you asked me to marry you, I told you at the time it was over between me and Chad. Once he took off on me, I would never have married him. But I'm not sure if you really believed me—"

  "I believe my brother hurt you. But however you feel or felt about him, the night you were assaulted in the parking lot changed all the circumstances."

  "Yes. Completely. But … I've still felt badly about this whole situation making things awkward for you and your brother. It took two to make that mistake. I don't want you thinking that it was all Chad's fault. He couldn't have known how green I was. Any other woman my age would have known something about men, not been so naïve. He gave me a rush—that's no crime. I misinterpreted his feelings—that wasn't his fault, either. He said more than once that he wasn't interested in children, and by the time he took off—Mac, I couldn't have married him by then anyway. There was no way it could have worked. But I don't believe he ever meant to hurt me. Or use me. We were just playing by entirely different rules."

  Mac didn't immediately respond, and by then they were pulling into the driveway. This far away from the city, the night was breathless, the sky studded with diamond stars and the silver half-moon veiled with a cotton puff cloud. When he parked by the front door, he climbed out first, and then hiked around to open her side. She'd have opened her own door, except that these days it always took some time to free herself from the seat belt and get her tummy organized enough to maneuver.

  When he hadn't immediately pursued the conversation about Chad, she assumed coming home had either distracted him or he didn't want to talk about it. But as he reached in a hand to help her out, he said quietly, "Kelly, he's coming home sometime. You know that."

  "Yes."

  "I don't know what you're going to feel when you see him again. But you said you were worried about my relationship with Chad, and I'm well aware the whole family seems determined to see this as an awkward situation. Don't be worried. There's nothing awkward for me. For me, the facts are clear. He slept with you and took off. He hurt you. I love him—he's my brother—I also know that he has problems that I just don't understand, but he was still raised with a sense of honor, and what he did to you was dead wrong."

  Kelly swallowed. "I don't want you angry with him because of me—"

  "Then you lose, Tiny. Because I intend to mop the floor with him."

  "Mac, you're not listening to a thing I said. It took two to get me in trouble. And maybe it took his disappearing for me to realize what a mistake I made, but that's water over the dam. It's over. I was dumb. But my being so incredibly dumb wasn't your brother's fault."

  "Would you quit worrying? I'm not going to kill him. I'm just going to annihilate him. It's an entirely different thing."
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  Mac suddenly seemed to hear the way his words came out, because his grave expression abruptly turned comically confused. She couldn't explain why she impulsively hooked her arms around his neck. At that instant, she simply had to. Because of that bead of sweat on his forehead when he'd been trying to master diapering a doll. Because of bullying her long distance with all the insufferable coddling. Because of all those "Mr. Fortune saids" that made her worry that nobody loved him. Because of calling her Tiny. Because he really was an old-fashioned heroic man who believed in honor and lived what he believed in.

  Because she thought Mac needed a kiss.

  The impulse made perfect sense to her. But her husband responded as if a tiger had just been spotted prowling the property. He went as still as stone when her arms climbed around his shoulders, carefully didn't move when she surged up on tiptoe. Mac, being Mac, was too much a gentleman to reject her. Or maybe he thought the danger would go away if he was careful not to move.

  Kelly hadn't known there was any danger. She certainly hadn't realized there were tigers prowling their personal property. Obviously she was aware that Mac scrabbled her hormones, but that was hardly a newsworthy item—Mac could scrabble the hormones of a ninety-year-old nun. She was afraid he'd respond with humiliating kindness if he realized she was attracted to him. As far as she knew, that was a well-kept secret, and there was absolutely nothing on her mind but affection at that moment.

  Only that moment passed. And everything changed. His lips were initially as cold as the snowflakes that stung her cheeks, but his lips warmed up so fast. He tasted dark and exotic. He tasted alluring. He tasted like something she'd longed for and never found before him.

  Even through the barrier of her down jacket, she felt his hands suddenly clench her waist, maybe because he intended to push her away. But he didn't. His hands skimmed, then slowly shivered around to her back until he was holding her no different than she was holding him. His mouth brushed hers like a soft stroke of satin, but that changed, too. The pressure of the kiss deepened, darkened, as if heat and smoke had been trapped inside Mac for a long time and the fire was suddenly let loose.