if he would act on his own. A second ticked past, another, and another.
Which was when Nicole said, “Are you going to kiss Mommy now?”
“Nicole!”
Desiree’s face reddened with embarrassment. She couldn’t bear to look at Carter, afraid of what she would see.
The sound of a masculine chuckle was followed by the feel of Carter’s hand on her unblemished cheek. She closed her eyes, flinching when she felt his moist breath against her face. She heard him make a sound of displeasure in his throat and felt his hesitation.
Desiree forced herself to stand still, waiting for the touch of his lips against hers, but her body stiffened, rejecting before it came, this sign of masculine possession.
Soft. So soft. And gentle.
Desiree’s eyes flickered open, and she stared wide-eyed at the man who had just become her husband. Her breathing was erratic, and her heart was bumping madly. It hadn’t been a painful kiss. Quite the contrary. Her lips had…tingled. She raised her hand toward her mouth in wonder.
Carter was staring at her, the expression on his face inscrutable. She had no idea what he was thinking.
She had married a stranger.
It was a terrifying thought, and Desiree felt the panic welling up inside her. Carter must have sensed her feelings, because he quickly thanked the judge, shook Carmichael’s hand, watched as the witnesses signed the marriage certificate, in which Desiree had once again given up her maiden name of Parrish, and hustled her and Nicole out of the courthouse.
“I’ve made reservations for lunch at Benham’s,” Carter said, naming one of the fanciest restaurants in Casper.
Desiree put a hand to her queasy stomach. The last thing she wanted right now was food.
“I’m starving,” Nicole piped up.
“I guess that’s settled,” Carter said. “Let’s go eat.”
“Not in a restaurant,” Desiree protested. “I put a roast in the oven before I left the ranch. Please, let’s go home.”
“Home,” Carter said. It had a wonderful sound. “All right, then. Home. I’ll follow you in my pickup.”
Desiree welcomed the brief respite before they sat down to their first meal as husband and wife. Once in the truck, Nicole focused her attention on Desiree’s wedding bouquet, which left Desiree free to mentally compare this wedding with her first one.
She had been only eighteen years old and desperately in love with Burley Kelton. Burley had come to work as a cowhand for her father, and she had fallen hard for his broad shoulders and his rakish smile. After a whirlwind romance they had married in the First Presbyterian Church. She had worn her mother’s antique-lace wedding gown and carried a pungent bouquet of gardenias.
Desiree had been a total innocent on her wedding night, naive and frightened, but so in love with Burley that she would have done anything he asked.
Only Burley hadn’t asked for anything. He had taken what he wanted. Brutally. Horribly. Painfully. She didn’t dare cry out for fear her parents would hear her in their room down the hall from her bedroom. So she bore her wedding night stoically. She survived, to endure even worse in the next weeks and months of her marriage.
They lived with her parents, and Burley continued working for her father. She kept up a front, refusing to let her parents know how bad things were. Then her mom and dad were killed in a freak one-car accident, and she was left alone with Burley. It was a ghastly end to what she now realized were girlish dreams of romance.
Burley told her the pain she felt when he exercised his husbandly rights was her fault. He had to work hard to find any pleasure in her, because she was frigid. He should have married a woman who had more experience, one who knew how to satisfy a man.
Even though Burley found her wanting in bed, he was insanely jealous if she so much as said hello to another man. When she suggested they might be better off apart, he became enraged and said he had taken his vows “Till death do us part!” and that he had meant them.
It had almost come to that.
Desiree stole a glance at Carter in the rearview mirror. At least she would be spared her wifely duties for a time. Maybe if she explained that he would find no joy in her, Carter might even change his mind about wanting to take her to bed.
Carter was having similar, but contrary, thoughts. In fact, he was wondering how long it would be before his wife became his wife—in the biblical sense. He had stood next to her during the short ceremony and felt her heat, smelled the soft floral fragrance that clung to her hair and clothes and felt himself forcing back the feelings of want and need that rose within him.
He had seen her flinch when he tried to kiss her after the ceremony. It wasn’t the first time she had recoiled from him, either. She must have been badly treated by some man, somewhere along the line. Her father? Her husband? So what were the chances she was going to let him get anywhere near her, anytime soon? Not good, he admitted. She had said they would have to wait until they knew each other better, and she had no idea when that would be. He was willing to be patient—for a while. He couldn’t help comparing this wedding with his first one.
Carter hadn’t been able to keep his hands off Jeanine, and she had been equally enamored of him. They had anticipated their wedding night by about a year, and knowing what he could expect in bed had kept him aroused through most of the ceremony and reception. He had been so much in love with Jeanine that it had been difficult to force the vows past his constricted throat. Knowing the reason they were marrying had been an extra bonus as far as he was concerned.
Looking back, he realized that the tears in Jeanine’s eyes hadn’t been tears of joy, as she had professed. His trembling bride had been trembling for entirely different reasons than the ones he had supposed. Now he knew why she had been so miserable. If only…
Carter swore under his breath. Wishing wouldn’t change the past. He was crazy to be reliving that nightmare, especially when he had just promised himself he wouldn’t look back anymore. He would do better to look forward to the future with Desiree Parrish—no, now Desiree Prescott.
Carter quashed the awful thought that arose like a many-headed hydra: This woman can’t betray me. Her scarred face will keep her from tempting another man. It wasn’t the first time he had thought it, and he couldn’t truly say whether the scar on her face had been a consideration when he agreed to marry her. But he was ashamed for what he was thinking and grateful that Desiree couldn’t read his mind. She deserved better from the man who had just become her husband.
Carter pulled his truck up beside Desiree’s pickup in back of the house. His wife and new daughter were already inside the house before he could catch up to them. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said Desiree was fleeing from him. If she was, she was wasting her time. Now that they were married, there was no place for her to run.
Desiree hurried to make herself busy before Carter came inside. She turned up the furnace and slipped off her coat and Nicole’s and sent her daughter upstairs to play.
Then she returned to the kitchen and waited beside the stove, her arms crossed over her chest. Carter didn’t bother to knock before he opened the door and stepped inside. He didn’t bother to close the door, either, just
