The Perfect Holiday, page 12
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. 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.
“Stop,” she insisted. “Stop.”
Steve reached for her again, but with renewed strength, she braced her hands against him and shoved him back.
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.”
“Yes, I was.” More than anyone would ever know.
Heaving a long sigh, Linda stepped back and inspected everyone. “Perfect.” She smiled. “Just perfect.”
Together the small party moved up to the altar and were joined by Pastor Wilkens. Cathy’s only thought was how she was ever going to find the proper gift to thank Linda for everything she’d done to make this wedding run smoothly.
The next thing Cathy remembered was the pastor telling Grady he could kiss the bride. Instinctively, she lowered her eyelids as Grady’s mouth moved over hers. The contact was brief and could hardly be considered a kiss. Not that it mattered.
As she warned she would, MaryAnne slipped out of the church to return to the hotel as soon as the ceremony was finished. A room had been reserved in a restaurant for a wedding meal. A cake decorated with dainty pink rosebuds was waiting on a table surrounded by gifts.
With Grady’s hand pressing into the small of her back, he led her through the remainder of the formalities. The meal tasted like cotton, but she managed to choke down a few bites. Somehow she was able to cut the cake and feed Grady a bite. Camera flashes seemed to come at her from every direction as Dan and Linda thought it important to record every detail of the day. Cathy couldn’t understand it, but she submitted weakly to the ordeal, accepting it as just another irritation.
Finally, they could escape. Ray tossed the suitcases into the back of the plane and helped Cathy climb aboard. A faint smile touched her lips as she noted Ray had painted Just Married on the side of the plane below Alaska Cargo. If she had been in a decent mood she would have laughed at the sight of Ray standing on the runway on a bitter cold November afternoon dressed in his warmest gear and hurling rice at them.
Cathy hardly paid attention as they taxied onto the runway, waiting for instructions from the air traffic controller. With a burst of power, they took off. It wasn’t until they were unable to see the Fairbanks city lights that Cathy spoke.
“Where are we going?” Only now that they were in the air did it interest her.
“For our honeymoon.”
Her sharply inhaled breath became a soundless gasp. “I…I thought you said we didn’t have time for a honeymoon. The school is expecting me back Monday morning.”
“You’ll be there,” he said shortly.
Grady seemed disinclined to talk as they flew through an ebony night. The drone of the engine lured Cathy into a restless slumber.
She woke when Grady began his approach to another airfield. Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she looked to this man who was now her husband. His expression was tight, unyielding.
“Where are we?” she asked, in a quiet voice.
He didn’t look at her. “Does it matter?”
“No.” Sadly, she shook her head. Absently, she toyed with the wedding band so recently placed on her finger. Grady shot her an irritated look, and she stopped, knotting her fingers.
They landed and taxied into a hangar, and Grady helped her step out of the plane.
Without a word, he lifted their suitcases, and with long, purpose-filled strides, he walked away.
Stunned, Cathy watched him go. He hadn’t spoken a word to her. At the gate, he paused and turned. “Are you coming or not?” he snapped.
For an instant, Cathy was tempted to stomp her foot and scream “Not!” Instead she inhaled a slow breath, swung her purse strap over her shoulder, and followed him out of the hangar.
The air was warmer, the cold less brittle. The stars were out in a brilliant display of God’s handiwork, like rare jewels laid upon rippling folds of black satin. Funny, she hadn’t noticed how beautiful the night was when they were in the air.
Grady was several feet ahead of her, and she was forced to half run, half walk to keep up with him. Still, she didn’t know where they were. Grady paused in front of a sedan and placed the suitcases on the concrete while he produced a key from the car’s undercarriage.
He unlocked the driver’s side, climbed inside, leaned across, and unlocked her door. Cathy opened the passenger side herself.
The silence grew and grew until she was sure she’d scream if he didn’t say something soon. Again, her fingers unconsciously toyed with the wedding band.
“Will you stop?” he demanded in a gruff, angry voice.
“Stop what?”
“Playing with that ring.” His foot forcefully hit the car brakes. If it hadn’t been for the restraining seat belt, Cathy would have been jerked forward. His cold gaze flickered over her briefly before he focused his attention on the road again. “Get this and get it straight,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “That ring is on your finger to stay.”
“Yes,” she murmured in a tight whisper. “I understand.”
By the time they arrived at the hotel, Cathy had guessed they were in Anchorage. She glanced around the expensively decorated lobby as Grady registered. Muted musical sounds drifted from the cocktail lounge.
“This way.” Grady touched her shoulder to gain her attention, then just as quickly removed his hand.
She followed him into the elevator, watching the heavy metal doors glide closed. Her attention centered on the orange light indicating the floor number. The elevator made a swishing sound as it came to a halt on the ninth floor. Grady preceded her into the long, narrow hallway, leaving her to follow.
Unlocking the door, he pushed it inward and placed the suitcases just inside. Unexpectedly, he swung Cathy into his arms.
She gave a startled gasp, her arms looping automatically around his neck as he carried her over the threshold. His foot closed the door. Blue eyes seemed to burn into gray, scorching her with the heat of his impatient desire.
“This is going to be a real marriage. You understand that, don’t you, Cathy?”
She had expected nothing less. Slowly, she nodded.
Her feet were lowered to the plush carpeting and he sat her on the bed.
His hand loosened the tie around his neck before he unbuttoned the pale blue shirt.
Cathy watched him with a sense of wonder.
Seeing him undress, she stood to unfasten the tiny buttons of the wool jacket. Hanging it in the closet, she slipped off her pumps, flexing her toes into the carpet. With her back to Grady, she unzipped the skirt and hung it beside the jacket.
A hand at her shoulder turned her around. Her hand was at her throat, prepared to undo the collar of the pink silk blouse. Grady removed her hand, untying the sash himself.
She looked at him as he slowly unfastened each button of her blouse. The silken material slid off her shoulders and fell to the floor.
A hand at her back unhooked the lace bra as it too, fell unheeded to the floor. Her heart was pounding so loud it was difficult to breathe. A hand cupped each breast, and the action sent out sensual ripples that spread radiating warmth over every part of her. His mouth spread tiny kisses over her throat, and Cathy angled her head to grant him easier access.
When he released her, she blinked in confusion as a shaft of cold air raced over her.
Again their eyes met as his hands slid over her ribs, pulling her close so that her front nestled against the black curly hairs of his chest.
“Why do you have to be so damned beautiful?” Grady questioned before his mouth captured hers.
The alarm buzzed, and Cathy rolled over and blindly fumbled for the clock on the nightstand. Urgent fingers groped for the button that would put an end to the irritating noise. Success. The bleeping stopped, and she sighed unevenly. Five a.m., and it was pitch-dark in their bedroom. With his back to her, Grady continued to sleep soundly.
Rousing her husband, Cathy slipped a hand over his lean, muscular ribs and gently shook him. “Grady, wake up.”
Her words were followed by a low, protesting moan.
He rolled toward her, and instantly Cathy scooted to her side of the bed. No need to throw temptation his way. Although they’d been married three months, she still was amazed at how much he desired her. Always gentle and encouraging, he was a wonderful lover. Meekly, she submitted to him. She was, after all, his wife. She gave of herself what she could, knowing it wasn’t enough to satisfy either of them.
Unexpectedly, she was happy, as happy as she could ever be without Steve. And content with her life. Grady had been right when he’d told her Angela needed a mother. The child had blossomed under Cathy’s love and attention. Sometimes it was difficult to believe this bubbly, happy little girl was the same child she had met last September.
Grady reached across the mattress and scooted her to his side. Instinctively, she stiffened as his lips kissed the nape of her neck.
“Don’t go all wintry on me,” he whispered. “I just want to hold you a few minutes.”
He did that some mornings, when he was reluctant to get out of a warm bed. Her head was cradled in the crook of his arm, and she could feel the even rise and fall of his chest beneath her palm. His breath stirred the hairs at the top of her head as his hand gently stroked the curve of her hip. The moment was serene and tranquil.
“Where are you flying today?” She whispered the question, not wanting the sound of her voice to shatter the quiet.
“Deadhorse.”
Cathy released a ragged sigh. She didn’t often ask him what time he would be home or if she should hold dinner for him. He resented her questions and had snapped at her more than once when she had innocently inquired.
Cathy didn’t know why she’d asked this morning. A bush pilot from another company in Fairbanks had lost a man the week before flying supplies into Nome for an oil company. The plane had engine trouble and was forced to make a crash landing. Grady had joined the search party. They found the plane and the man two days later. He had frozen to death. For several days afterward, her stomach had tightened every morning when Grady left for the airfield. Not that she didn’t respect his talent or his abilities, but the other man had been an excellent pilot, too.
His hand brushed the hair from her temple, and he kissed her lightly before throwing back the blankets and climbing out of bed.
Instantly a chill ran over her, and she sat up and reached for her housecoat lying across the foot of the mattress. Peterkins had slept there from the time he was a puppy, but not anymore. The dog spent his nights with Angela now; Grady didn’t want him in their bedroom. Cathy had struggled not to argue with him, but in the end she silently conceded it was probably for the best.
Snuggling her bare feet into thick, fuzzy slippers, she knotted the sash and started for the kitchen. The coffee was perking, and she poured Grady a cup when he joined her. His lunch was packed and his thermos filled when he gave her a kiss goodbye. Watching his headlights disappear down the deserted street from the living room window, Cathy felt like an ordinary, everyday wife. Only her heart reminded her she wasn’t.
* * *
—
Scraping oatmeal-raisin cookies off the cookie sheet, Cathy nervously bit into her bottom lip. Eight-thirty, and Grady wasn’t home. In the past, if he was going to be later than seven or so, he phoned, or had Ray do it for him. The thoughtfulness had surprised her. But there had been no phone call tonight.
“Time for bed,” she reminded Angela, who was watching television in the living room.
“Can I have a cookie?”
