Finally Nicole raised her head to gaze into his eyes, her own wide with wonder. “Please, Max, stay with me tonight Stay and comfort me and make love to me.” He brushed his lips against hers, a soft, tender touch. “You couldn't chase me from your bed tonight.” He murmured the words against her lips. “I'm here as long as you'll have me.”

  She lay her head back down on his chest and he pulled the sheet up around them, cradling her in his arms.

  Nothing felt more right at this moment than being here in her arms. It felt perfect and precious, and suddenly, he feared the future.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nicole woke the next morning to an empty bed, and she stretched, feeling lazy and satisfied. They'd made love long into the night and later she'd fallen asleep in his arms.

  They hadn't talked, only made love, and somehow she'd pushed aside thoughts of whether Max would stay or go after the harvest. She didn't want to think of that time, but rather get through these next few weeks.

  Last night as she'd fallen asleep in his arms, she'd never felt so close to a human being as she did with Max. She'd thought when she married Jean, that she loved him, but though she'd fought long and hard to keep from falling in love again, she now realized she loved Max. Loved him more than she'd loved any man before him. The thought both frightened and thrilled her. But she had to get over her fear of living and give her scarred emotions a second chance.

  For she'd realized yesterday at Consuelo's funeral that life was fleeting and time didn't wait forever. And she knew she loved Max, and with time, hopefully he would help heal the scars that Jean had given her.

  Since the first time they made love, they'd never spoken again about making their marriage real. She wanted to believe in Max, she wanted to trust him and let him be the husband she dreamed of, but she felt so unsure. And even though she knew she loved him, she was still so afraid.

  Yet last night she'd boldly invited him into her bed, something she'd never done in her entire life. Yes, they were married, but for their vows to become permanent and lasting didn't seem possible. Would he want to continue roaming the countryside while she remained here at Rosewood?

  And if their marriage ended, why would she want to stay behind, with no chance of a family, no one to share the beauty of the land with?

  The original owner had built Rosewood for a family with roots and heritage, to create a legacy. Yet somehow, her dreams of giving her children everything she'd never had, had paled. The tradition she'd dreamed of building around friends and family would never happen, not unless she accepted Max as her husband.

  And could that be so bad? In his arms she felt safe and secure, as if she were meant to be there. She thought back to her marriage with Jean. Never had she felt so close to a man as she did with Max. Jean popped in and out of her bed more like a drifter than Max ever appeared.

  With Max she felt almost as if they breathed in unison. And there was this “thing,” as he called it, between them. This sense that no matter where she could be in a room, when he walked in she knew he was there. A sense of looking at Max and feeling an inexplicable yearning that left her breathless and heady. Just the thought of him caused her breath to quicken and the feeling of safety and security to overcome her.

  Never had she experienced such unrestrained physical attraction to a man. Not with Jean, not with anyone.

  She brushed her braid back and sat on the edge of the bed. Consuelo would be bringing...

  No, Consuelo would never bring her coffee again. Pain rocked her for a moment at the loss of her friend. Nicole felt truly alone in the world—no family, no one at her side any longer. The memory of Max comforting her filled her with warmth and brought a sad smile to her face.

  How many men would marry a woman to give her unborn child that wasn't his a name? And how many times had Max comforted her during their marriage? He'd taken care of her when she'd been sick during her pregnancy. He consoled her when she lost the baby. He calmed her when she'd been grieving over the loss of the child, and he'd mourned with her when Consuelo died.

  No other person had helped her through happy and sad times as much as her husband, and yet she held back a small part of herself from him. The time had come to put the past behind her and give him her heart.

  Yes, there were many unanswered questions, but did they matter when it seemed evident from Max's past behavior that he cared for her? What would happen if she gave all of herself to this marriage?

  She could give her heart to Max and give their marriage a chance, or she could shrivel away a lonely woman who let a man's deception scare her away from life and love. And then Jean would still be controlling her—from the grave.

  The thought of Max leaving frightened her. Unlike her earlier declarations of wanting him to leave, suddenly she didn't want him to go. She didn't want him to leave Rosewood. For her heart knew what her mind had refused to accept for many weeks now: she loved Max. Had loved him almost from the moment he'd married her to give her unborn child a name. A kind and decent man, Max had slowly slipped into her heart with his kind deeds and gentle soul. She'd never met a man so loving, so kind and so tender. Now she must put the past behind her and give their marriage—and hopefully her love—a chance to grow.

  In time, she would give her marriage everything that she'd never given her life with Jean. Not only would Max receive her love, he would receive the gift of her faith in their future.

  ***

  Max walked into the house from the fields, pleased that the crop would be ready to burn in the next few days. Everything was going so well—even Nicole seemed to have accepted their marriage, and soon he would tell her the truth regarding his past and his reasons for marrying her. Last night, she'd surprised him with her invitation to spend the night by her side.

  This morning he'd wakened at dawn and gently slid out from beneath the mosquito netting that covered her bed. He'd been loath to leave her, but the cane was in the process of being cut and then they would burn the fields. They were so close that he worried about every little detail. Including Consuelo's recent death.

  If Consuelo's name remained on the deed of Rosewood, who owned the plantation now that she was gone? He knew this would be a delicate subject with Nicole, but he needed answers to feel reassured. He didn't need a relative of Consuelo's to realize the opportunity and suddenly take advantage of Nicole's attempt to keep him from owning the plantation.

  Yet he had to phrase his questions to Nicole delicately, so as not to put her on the defensive. Things were going so well between them that he didn't want to undo all the progress he'd made.

  He went through the dining room to the plantation office, where Nicole sat going through a trunk.

  “Hello,” he said, noticing the way she'd swept her blonde hair up off her neck, longing to kiss the spot on the top of her shoulder. The place that made her shudder.

  She smiled up at him. “Hello. You're back early from the fields. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. We started cutting the cane today,” he said, wondering how to bring up the subject of Consuelo's will. “How are you this morning?”

  Her blue eyes rose to his, dark and poignant. “I'm fine, though every time I hear footsteps I look up and expect to see Consuelo coming through the door, and then I'm sad because I realize I won't see her again.” She paused and glanced down into the trunk. “It's hard to believe that this is all that's left of her life. I'm searching for her will. She told me she recently updated it, but I haven't found the document yet.”

  Max felt a sense of relief. If she'd updated the will a short time ago, hopefully they'd put something in about the plantation, yet he wanted to be sure. “I know you had a business arrangement with Consuelo regarding Rosewood, but I couldn't help but worry about who owns the land now. I only ask, Nicole, because I know how much you love this place and I want to make sure you don't lose it.”

  Nicole frowned, her brows drawing into a furrow on her forehead. She glanced up at Max, her eyes searching his. “I own the land.” She swallowed, the realization evident on her face. “And as my husband, you own it too.”

  A sense of satisfaction and relief swept over Max, yet he couldn't appear too eager. He smiled at her and shrugged as though it were no big deal. “I'm just concerned about the payment of the crop.”

  She watched him, her eyes gazing at him worriedly. And then she sighed. “That's not going to be a problem, Max, I promise you.” Then her eyes narrowed and she stared at him. “I have a confession to make. The reason that Consuelo's name was on the deed to Rosewood was to keep you from trying to claim the land as my husband. After all, the plantation was mine before I married you and at the time we wed, our vows were only temporary. I never intended to fall in love with you.”

  He blinked, and stared at her. “You love me?”

  She smiled and nodded her head. “Yes, no matter how hard I've tried to keep from loving you, you managed to find your way into my heart.”

  He walked to where she sat and pulled her up from the chair. He brushed her lips with his own and then held her in his arms. The moment dragged on, feeling awkward when he didn't confess his love to her. But he didn't believe in love and if he whispered words of affection, wouldn't she hate him even more when she found out the truth?

  God, how he wanted to confess to her, tell her the truth, but he was enjoying their time together. He didn't want to end the closeness he felt with Nicole, not yet. Just give himself more time to enjoy the feel of her in his arms, the love she surrounded him with. Then he'd be honest with her.

  She pulled back and gazed at him, waiting expectantly. “What did I do before you were in my life? You're so kind and considerate.”

  Max kissed her nose, guilt riding him hard. He'd only taken care of her the way she deserved to be treated. “Tell me that after we have our first disagreement.”

  She laughed. “Don't make that anytime soon, please. I'm enjoying being with you way too much.” He pressed her head against his chest and held her close, afraid of her slipping away. God, if there were only some way he could keep the truth from her, he would. She deserved never to know his faults. She'd shown him how it felt to be loved and he would repay her with his lies. Guilt overwhelmed him. Nicole deserved better.

  ***

  Two days later Max stood under the shade of an oak tree watching the field hands burn the cane. Everything was going so well, even Nicole seemed to have accepted their marriage and soon he would tell her the truth regarding his past and his reasons for marrying her. Her declaration of love had shocked him. He'd been so intent on working to make their union a reality, he'd never considered love.

  Love had always seemed such a superfluous emotion and one that he'd honestly never experienced much of in his life. He loved his son and his grandfather had always shown his affection, but Max couldn't say that he'd ever loved Desiree, and his parents' relationship never was one that made him seek out love.

  Max felt confused by her declaration of love. All his life he'd strived to do what his family wanted to regain the family home. Yet since he'd married Nicole, he'd experienced everything that a family should feel like. She'd made Rosewood into a home, and for the first time in his life he felt the warmth and tenderness of how a marriage could be between a man and a woman. He'd experienced her love and never been happier, except for the feelings of guilt that persisted in reminding him of how he'd tricked her.

  He had to tell her the truth sometime, and then all the love she felt for him would turn into hate, just like the way she felt about Jean. If only she would understand his reasons why he'd married her then maybe they had a chance. Surely she could appreciate him wanting to get back his birthright?

  He couldn't lie to her about being in love though, because he wasn't sure he believed in the emotion. His parents were certainly not shining examples of love that made a man want to spend his lifetime with one woman. Though with Nicole, he felt he knew her, he understood her thinking and wanted to share her joys, her heartaches, and her happiness. But love?

  Would she repeat those three little words once she found out that he'd married her for the plantation?

  The sound of a boat whistle shocked him out of his reverie and he turned toward the river. He watched the big steamer dock at the landing and feared who it could be. He untied his roan and stepped into the stirrup. With a kick to the horse's flanks he rode toward the house, hoping to intercept the wagon that traveled down the lane to Rosewood.

  He worried he already knew who was riding beside Joseph and had expected her arrival days before. He rode his horse to the front steps and saw that Nicole stood waiting on the verandah to greet their guest. He glanced up at her standing in the shade.

  “Who is it, Max?” she asked.

  “I don't know,” he lied as he swung his leg over the saddle and stepped down from his horse. He led the animal to a post in the yard, looping the reins securely around the piece of wood beneath a large oak tree that shaded the animal from the fall sunshine. Max felt uneasy as he watched the wagon pull up into the yard with none other than Desiree.

  Max positioned himself between her and the house.

  In her hand, she held an envelope. She saw him and she frowned, her painted brows drawing together. As soon as the wagon came to a halt, she climbed down and approached Max, her hips swaying.

  Desiree hurried up the walk to the wooden stairs where Max stood waiting for her, knowing he would never let her enter the house.

  She halted before the bottom step, looking up at him as he stood there with his arms folded. She shook the envelope at him. “What is this? If you think you and your fancy lawyers are going to keep me from my son, you're crazy.”

  “There are provisions for you to visit with Paul whenever he wants to see you, or at least once a month,” Max said calmly, hoping that Nicole didn't pick up on the “fancy lawyers” or would assume that Desiree had misused the term.

  “Once a month! Never! I've come to take Paul home with me today. That boy should never have left and I want him back, now!” she said, her chest heaving beneath her tight purple dress.

  Max took a deep breath and kept his voice at an even tone. “Paul is not here, so you're unable to visit him today. Plus, if you thoroughly read that document you're holding, you will see a clause in there that states if you come around threatening or making a scene in front of Paul, you jeopardize the money you receive from me each month. I don't have to pay you and in fact I won't send you money if you harass us.” Her face flushed red and her eyes widened in disbelief. “I can live without—”

  “Desiree, be very certain of what you're about to say. I don't have to pay you. I'm only giving you money so that Paul doesn't worry about his brothers and sisters. God knows, those children deserve a better life, but if you make my son feel guilty for wanting to live with me, or you continually come here and throw your temper tantrums, then you won't get a dime. Do you understand me?”

  “He's my son, too!” she shouted.

  The spirit bottles clanged noisily together as the breeze shook the limbs of the oak tree. The sound seemed loud in the tense atmosphere, but Max refused to back down. Paul's future was at stake and Desiree wasn't a shining example of motherhood.

  “And you'll see him. But you and I both know that I can give him so many more opportunities that you're unable to offer him. You had him the first twelve years, now let me turn him into a man,” Max said gently, trying to reason with her.

  She stopped for a moment, pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve, and dabbed at her eyes. “But I need Paul. He's...”

  The woman should have been an actress. Exasperated, Max shook his head. “Turn off the tears, Desiree. They are not going to work. You'll need to find someone else to watch your children because Paul will be spending his time getting an education.”

  Her dark brown eyes flashed at him, her red painted lips turned into a grimace that would frighten most people. “Fine! You can keep the boy, but if so much as one check stops coming to me, then I swear I'll be out here hounding you day and night I might even bring the other bunch of brats to live with you.” Max smiled at her. “That's more like the Desiree I'm accustomed to seeing. Now get back in the wagon. The steamboat is waiting for you and I don't want to see you again until I bring Paul in to visit you next month. Do not come out here again, Desiree.” She whirled around, the red ruffles of her petticoat flouncing through carefully cut slits in her skirt as she strode off to the wagon, her feet almost stomping. She climbed up onto the bench seat and then Joseph slapped the horses' backs with the reins, and the wagon lurched.

  Max stood there and watched her leave, feeling somewhat successful. He still had his son, and hopefully the money would be enough to keep her from intruding too much in their lives. Though he loved Paul, he wished that somehow he'd never met Desiree. Never given in to his foolish romance with her.

  He turned to go up the stairs and saw Nicole standing on the verandah. She'd witnessed everything. A frown furrowed her brow and he could see that she stood contemplating everything she'd seen and heard. After the first five minutes, he'd forgotten all about her standing there. And now she gazed at him as if she'd never seen him before.

  “So,” she said, her voice dragging the word out. “How does a man who drifts from town to town afford ‘fancy lawyers' and manage to pay someone a monthly fee?”

  Max cringed at his own slip about the payments. For a man who hated lying, he felt as if he was drowning in his own lies.

  “That's where some of the money from the crop is going to go,” he replied without hesitation.

  He watched her puzzle his response and finally, after several moments, her lips came up in a smile. “You always have the right answer, don't you?”

  Max shook his head. “No, not always. If I always had the right answer, I would never have gotten involved with Desiree.”

  Nicole laughed. “Maybe your luck doesn't apply to women.”

 

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