A Bride's Tangled Vows

Three

Aiden’s uncharacteristic urge to curse like a sailor was starting to irritate him. As he snatched one of the cookies Marie had left cooling on the kitchen counter, he contemplated the grim facts. His lawyer hadn’t found a way around the legal knots James had tied. There wasn’t evidence to have him declared mentally unstable. He was, but then he’d always been. If jackassery could be considered a mental condition. And any legal proceedings to steal guardianship of his mother would take too long. Aiden wasn’t willing to chance his mother’s health and well-being. He owed her too much.

So his bad mood was justified, but when he found himself stomping up the narrow back staircase from the kitchen, the taste of chocolate chip cookie lingering on his tongue, he knew it was time to get himself under control. After all, he wasn’t a schoolboy or angst-ridden teen. He was a man capable of engineering million-dollar art deals. He could handle one obstinate grandfather and a soon-to-be bride—but only with a cool head.

As a distraction, his mind drifted to other days blessed with warm cookies, spent playing hide-and-seek or sword-wielding pirates on these dark stairs. The perfect atmosphere for little-boy secrets and make-believe. He and his brothers had also used them to disappear when their grandfather came looking for them. He’d often been on a terror about something or other. They’d sneak down and out the kitchen door for a quick escape.

Aiden stretched his mouth into a grim smile as he rounded a particularly tight bend. Escape was something he’d always excelled at. Except with Ellen Zabinski.

He didn’t hear the footsteps until too late. He’d barely looked up before colliding with someone coming down the stairs. A soft someone who emitted a little squeal as she stumbled. Certain they’d fall, Aiden surged forward to keep from losing his balance. Christina tried to pull back, but her momentum worked against her. Hands flailed, finding purchase on his shoulders. Her front crushed to his. Their weight pressed dead against each other, stabilizing as two became one.

Everything froze for Aiden, as if his very cells locked down. He managed one strangled breath, filled with the fresh scent of her hair, before his body sprang to life. Her soft curves and sexy smell urged him to pull her closer, so much so that his fingers tightened against the rounded curves of her denim-covered hips. The soft flesh gave beneath his grip.

He’d been without a woman for far too long. That had to be why he was so off balance. His strict adherence to his “no attachments” rule had led to a lifetime of brief encounters. His last choice had been a wrong one, a woman who wasn’t happy when he walked out the door the next morning. It had soured him on any woman since.

Darkness permeated the staircase, heightening the illusion of intimacy. His and Christina’s accelerated breaths were the only sound between them. They were so close, he felt the slight tremor that raced over her echo throughout his entire body. It took more minutes than Aiden cared to admit for his mind to kick into gear.

“Dreamed up more ways to invade my territory, Christina?”

He felt her stiffen against his palms, tension replacing that delicious softness. Just as he’d intended.

Before he could regret anything, she retreated, stabilizing herself with a hand against the wall. “Aiden,” she said, prim disapproval not hiding a hint of breathlessness, “I’m sorry for not seeing you.”

I’m not.

“And for the record, I’m not invading anything. So I’d thank you to never call me by that stupid nickname.”

It was a sign of his own childhood needs that he’d resented the attention she’d received here at Blackstone Manor when they were kids, enough to tease her with his invader tag. There had been times he’d felt as if she had invaded their chaotic life, garnering what little positive attention there was to go around. How he’d resented that. To the point that, one hot summer afternoon, he’d spoken harsh words he’d always regret.

“I’m trying to help, Aiden. I really am.” Her voice came out low, intensifying the sense of intimacy.

He had to clear his own throat before he spoke again. “Why? I’m nothing to you.”

“And I realize I’m nothing to you, but I care very much for Lily.”

He could feel his suspicious nature, the one that served him so well in business negotiations, kick in. “So what’s he have on you, sweetheart?”

Christina didn’t pretend not to understand. “Lily.”

“Why? There are other jobs, other people in need of a nurse.”

Her glare was almost visible in the dim light. He should feel lucky he wasn’t smoldering under that fire. Instead, a cool brush of air drifted over him as she shifted back on the steps. “If you had hung around over the past ten years, you’d know that Lily has been like a mother to me. Ever since we were kids.” Pausing to swallow, she looked down for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was once more firm and devoid of emotion. “I understand what’s being required of me.”

Somehow that monotone didn’t make him any happier than her anger, and he couldn’t resist the urge to shake her out of it. “You’d sell yourself to a stranger for what, money? Hoping ol’ Granddad will give you a piece of the pie if you work hard enough for it?”

“No,” she insisted. “I’m not selling myself, but I will sacrifice myself to do what I think is right for Lily.” She reached out in a pleading gesture, but jerked back as her fingertips brushed his chest. A deep breath seemed to stabilize her control. The professional was back. “It’s my belief as a nurse, and as Lily’s friend, that she’s conscious of where she is. This house has been her sanctuary since her car accident. I can guarantee that removing her from here will negatively affect her physical and emotional condition. Especially if he puts her in—” a shudder worked its way over her “—that place. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep Lily out of there.... Will you?”

Aiden shifted his legs, wishing he could pace despite the confinement of his surroundings. “Would he really do that to her, you think?”

An unladylike snort sounded in the air, surprising him. But Christina obviously wasn’t in the mood to pull her punches. “Have you forgotten that much already? He’s only become more pigheaded through the years.”

“You seem to handle him pretty well,” he said, remembering how she’d stared James down over the medicine.

Her brow lifted in disbelief. “He only concedes to my medical expertise because he’s afraid of dying.”

“He’s not afraid of anything.”

“Actually, Aiden, deep down we’re all afraid of something.” Her shaky breath told him she was afraid of something, too, but she wasn’t revealing any secrets. “Death is the only thing James can’t outwit, outsmart or bully into getting his way.”

Though he didn’t understand why, Aiden felt a strange kinship tingle at the edge of his consciousness. She might look delicate, but Christina was racking up evidence of being one smart cookie. On top of that, a common bond tightened between them: Lily. He knew the source of his guilt—his obligation to his mother. Despite her words, he knew Christina’s devotion to Lily wasn’t just friendship; something else lurked beneath that fierce dedication. Was it just how good Lily had been to her? Or something more? He’d find out what was going on there. She could bet on it.

The sudden silence must have become too much for her, because Christina moved forward as if to continue down the stairs. The polite thing would have been to step aside, but the ache to feel that body against his once more kept him perversely still. She slowed within a hairbreadth, tension mounting once more. “Aiden?”

“So you’re really willing to do this?” he asked, almost holding his breath as he awaited her answer. What delicious torture to spend the next year with this woman and keep his hands to himself. Could he? This was a huge mistake.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can, you know, share a bed with you.”

The way her voice trailed off told him how very uncomfortable she was, which only awakened images of making her very comfortable in a bed for two. But maybe he could find a way to make this work.

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a way around that.”

“Do you have any other choices for a wife?” she asked. “I didn’t really give you a chance to choose.”

Arguments? He had a few, but none that were effective. Excuses? A whole hay wagon full, but none he dared utter in the face of the threat to his mother’s well-being. Other women? He could think of many a delectable armful over the last ten years, but none interested in anything as mundane as marriage. He’d stayed far away from the home-and-hearth type.

“No,” he conceded, then stepped aside to let her pass. “I don’t think I could pay my assistant enough to move to the middle of nowhere and put up with me 24/7.”

“It’s hardly the middle of nowhere,” she said with a light tone as she scooted past, brushing the far wall in an attempt not to touch him again.

Which was just as well.

She continued, “We might not have the culture of New York City, but there’s still a movie theater, nice restaurants and the country-club set.” She kept that delicate face turned resolutely away as he followed her into the soft afternoon light of the kitchen. “Not something I’m that interested in, but to each his own.”

Interesting. “What do your parents think about that?”

“Who knows?” And who cares, her tone said. Could she really brush aside what her family thought that easily? Everything he’d seen since his return made him think she was family-focused. Her graceful appearance, fierce loyalty and career choice made her seem exactly like the marriage, kids and picket-fence type. All the more reason to keep his pants zipped around her.

What were they going to do about that bed? It was long moments later before she finally turned to face him, but for once the delicate lines of her face told him nothing.

“Honestly, Aiden, I want to help. This situation is uncomfortable at best, but for Lily...”

She’ll do anything. Her earlier question rang once more in his ears: Would he put aside his own selfish wants, his own desire to run far, far away for the second time, for the needs of his mother and his childhood home?

Would he?

* * *

Christina picked her way down the damp concrete steps in front of the stately Black Hills courthouse. Thunderstorms had blown through during the night, leaving a cool breeze that rustled through the Bradford pear trees lining the square. Her trembling body felt just as jostled as she followed Aiden and Canton. Were her feet really numb or was that just the shock of signing the papers?

“It’s official,” the probate judge had said, beaming with the pride of initiating a Blackstone marriage.

Luckily, it wasn’t truly official—she still had about a week before the marriage license came in to regain her senses, but picturing Lily at home, fragile yet safe in her bed, told Christina she wouldn’t change her mind.

She couldn’t turn her back on the friend who’d given up so much for her.

The three of them reached the bottom just as a group of local guys approached. Cleaned up from work in jeans and button-downs, they looked like what they were—small-town guys headin’ down to start their weekend with some fun at Lola’s, the local bar.

“Well, look at this, boys. It’s Aiden Blackstone, back from New York City.”

Christina cringed inside. Jason Briggs had to be the cockiest guy in Black Hills, and had the mouth to prove it. Not someone she wanted to deal with given her current edgy nerves.

“Jason.” Aiden acknowledged the other man with the single, short word. From his tight tone, Christina guessed his memories of Jason were anything but fond.

“Whatya doin’ back here?” Jason asked, as if it was any of his business. “Can’t imagine you showing up after all this time for a pleasure visit.” He glanced past Aiden to Christina. “Or is it?”

The guys with him snickered, causing Christina to tense. While Aiden didn’t seem like the “let’s solve this with our fists” type, Jason had been known to push lesser men over the edge. The differences between the two were clear. Aiden was perfectly at home in his dress pants and shoes, his own button-down tucked in and sporting the sheen of a silky material. He wasn’t the old-school business-suit type, but he looked like a sophisticated professional, while the dark, stylishly spiked hair and his brooding look gave him that creative edge that probably had the women of New York swooning like Southern belles.

She knew she was.

But in the midst of the other men, it was like comparing dynamite to ordinary firecrackers. Jason and his crew might be the big fish in this tiny pond, but Christina put her money on the shark invading their midst.

The metaphor proved apt as Aiden ignored their ribbing with the confidence of someone who couldn’t be beaten. “I’m here to take over my grandfather’s affairs, now that he’s become ill,” he said with quiet confidence, not mentioning the true purpose of this little visit to the courthouse.

It was Canton who stirred the waters. “Including the running of the mill,” he added.

Rumblings started from the back of the group, but Jason shrugged off the explanation with a smart, “Doubt he can fix what’s wrong any more than a good ol’ boy like Bateman can.”

“Who’s Bateman?” Aiden asked.

The men simply stared at him for a minute before Christina answered. “Bateman is the current day foreman at the mill.”

“Check it out,” Jason said, raising his voice just a bit. “Guy doesn’t even know who the foreman is, and he thinks he’s gonna stop all the bull that’s been going on over there.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Aiden said, cool, calm and collected. Standing tall on the steps, his back braced and arms folded across his chest, giving him the presence of a leader.

Jason held his gaze for a moment, probably an attempt to stare Aiden down, then shifted his cocky eyes to Christina. A weaker target. She fought the urge to ease behind Aiden’s strong back for protection. Jason was older than she was by a few years, but that hadn’t stopped him from hitting on her when they were teenagers. He hadn’t appreciated her rejection, and now enjoyed hassling her whenever they met. “I guess you filled him in, huh, sweet cheeks? Is that all you gave him? Information?”

Confident he’d gotten a few good jabs in, Jason decided he was done with them. With a self-assured jerk of his head, he got the whole crew moving like the lemmings they were.

Aiden watched them go before asking, “So he works out at the mill?”

Canton replied before Christina could. “Yes. His father is in management, I believe.”

“That’s not going to help him if he ever talks to Christina like that again.”

Startled, Christina eyed Aiden’s hard jaw and compressed lips. She’d never had a champion before, at least, not one capable of doing much in her defense. That Aiden would punish Jason on her behalf...she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Christina frowned after the departing group. Maybe she had more of her mother’s tastes than she’d wanted to admit. None of the local guys had ever interested her much. Jerks like Jason who thought they were God’s gift to the women of this town didn’t help. But Aiden’s quietly sophisticated, confident aura made her stomach tighten every time she saw him. Which was trouble, big trouble. Especially when she started looking to him for more than just that tingling rush.

Glancing back at the men, she found Aiden watching her intently. Her cheeks burned. Please don’t let him be able to guess my thoughts.

“What’s he talking about?” Aiden asked.

Was he asking her? Why not the lawyer? But the direction of Aiden’s stare was plain.

“Well, I know there’ve been some problems out at the mill. Strange things happening. Shipments delayed or missing altogether. Perfectly good equipment breaking unexpectedly. Things like that.”

“Sabotage?” Aiden asked with narrowing eyes.

Canton broke in. “Absolutely not. Just a coincidence, is all.”

But Christina wasn’t about to lie to the person she hoped would be able to fix it. “Some people say it is. But there’s no proof of anything. Still, people in the town are starting to get antsy, superstitious, worried about their jobs—”

Canton cleared his throat, shooting her a “shut your mouth” glare. “Everything will be fine once they realize a strong Blackstone is back at the helm.”

Still, Aiden watched her, assessing as if he were cataloging her every feature. But then his gaze seemed to morph into something more, something she couldn’t look away from as heat spread through her limbs like seeping honey. When was the last time a man, any man, had truly seen her? Gifted her with a moment of intense focus?

But Aiden’s silvery-black gaze didn’t hold desire—at least, not the kind that shivered through her veins. No, his eyes appraised her, calculating her value. Their shared look allowed her to see the moment the idea hit him.

Yes, she could be useful to a lot of people, but to Aiden in particular. She knew this town in ways he didn’t anymore. And Jason had just proven that taking over the town’s biggest source of income wasn’t going to be easy. Small-town Southerners had long memories, and little tolerance for outsiders coming in to tell them what to do.

He didn’t have an easy road ahead of him, but she had a feeling she’d just been chosen to pave his way.

Four

Christina enjoyed reading to Lily. Sometimes she would indulge in short verses from a book of poetry, magazine articles or a cozy mystery. Today the words from a story set in a small town like theirs eased over them both, until muffled bumps and bangs erupted from the adjoining room. She cocked her head, hearing more thumping sounds. A quick glance reassured her Lily was okay, so she set the book down and hurried through the dressing room.

The noise grew as she approached the door that led from Lily’s dressing room to Christina’s bedroom. What was going on?

Opening the door, she found herself facing a...wall? A mattress wall?

Going back through Lily’s suite to the other exit into the hallway only gave her time to get good and angry. Nolen stood outside Christina’s room, arms crossed over his chest. His closed stance matched his expression.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Nolen shook his head. “That boy. Master Aiden always was one to get something in his mind, and that’s all she wrote....”

Alarm skittered through Christina. What was he up to? One step inside the disarray told her it was no good.

“Why are you rearranging the furniture in my room?” She didn’t care that her voice was high-pitched and panicked. He could not do this. He could not simply move himself in without permission.

Furniture had been shoved aside, her bed taken apart and general chaos reigned. In the midst of it all, Aiden stood, legs braced. He wore almond-colored cargo pants and a blue button-down, sleeves rolled up to expose muscled forearms with a sprinkling of dark hair. A masculine statue in purple girly land.

He nodded to the delivery guys. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

Christina practically vibrated as she waited for them to clear the room. Her eyes rounded and her throat tightened as the men took her old mattress with them.

“Thanks, Nolen,” she heard Aiden say before the door clicked closed. Then he resumed his autocratic stance nearby.

“Don’t you think we should have talked about this first?”

His insolent shrug matched his nonchalant attitude, which only upped her panic for some reason. “Why? You said you would go through with this for Mother.”

She wanted to scream, but held on to her control for a moment more. “Yes, but not sharing a bed.”

He was silent so long that she shifted uncomfortably. Finally, he said, “James will get his way—you said that yourself.”

“But if we give him the marriage, maybe—”

“He doesn’t want this half-done, Christina. You know that. But I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t feel comfortable with.”

She raised her brows, pointedly surveying her disheveled room. “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing. I’m definitely not comfortable with this.”

“We each have a side. I’ll keep my clothes and stuff upstairs, out of your way. This doesn’t have to be any more intimate than two people sleeping beside each other.”

She wanted to study his face, see if he really believed that, but she couldn’t scratch up the nerve. Instead, she concentrated on maintaining what small modicum of grace she still possessed.

“Look,” Aiden said, “if we’re gonna do this, we’ve got to be all in. Either that, or get out now.”

Christina glanced at the door to Lily’s room. “No. I’m in,” she conceded. But as she turned back to measure the queen-size mattress dominating her small room, she had to ask, “Couldn’t you have bought two twins?”

His grin should be illegal. “Where’s the fun in that?”

* * *

Christina shoved leaden limbs through the armholes of her nightgown and dragged it on. The day had been long, and an even longer, probably restless night lay ahead. Her emotional turmoil was compounded by worries over Lily, James’s health, the bargain she’d agreed to and Aiden...always Aiden. Nicole had testing to keep her away for the next two days, but Christina looked forward to the nonstop vigil Lily’s care required. Sometimes she wished taking care of Lily were a bit more labor intensive. It might help her think a whole lot less.

Her sigh echoed around her tiny bedroom. Soon she’d be the wife of Aiden Blackstone. The cocktail of fear, desire and worry bubbling through her veins might just be enough to keep her awake until then.

But hopefully not. She stared at the new queen-size bed that consumed more than its fair share of real estate. Great, another worry. How in the world could she share a bed with Aiden Blackstone?