Just Curious (7 page)

Mac smiled patronizingly at that.

“No, really. My sister-in-law just had a baby, and she was constantly complaining about anorexic sales girls who looked at her with pity every time she asked if they had something in extra large. And I'd have trained bra fitters and I'd have free brochures of local organizations the women could contact if they needed help or information, such as La Leche League. And of course we'd have contact with a local obstetrician in case of mishaps in the store. And—”

She broke off as she glanced at his face. He was laughing at her!

“Haven't thought about it much, have you?”

She smiled. “Well, maybe just a bit.”

“Where are your financials? And don't you dare tell me you haven't worked out to the penny how much opening a store like this would cost.”

Karen took a few bites. “I have done a bit of number crunching.”

“When we get back to Denver, you can put them on my desk and I'll—” He broke off because Karen had removed a computer disk from her handbag. Taking it, he looked down at it and frowned. “When were you going to present me with this?”

She knew what he meant. He thought
this
was the real reason she'd agreed to this weekend. She was just one of the hundreds of people who tried to see him about or mail him their schemes for getting rich. Karen snatched the disk out of his hands. “I was
never
planning to show it to you or anyone else,” she said through her teeth. “Millions of people have dreams in their heads and that's just where they stay: in their heads.”

Angrily, she grabbed her purse and coat from beside her. “Excuse me, but I think this has all been a mistake. I think I'd better leave now.”

Mac caught her arm and pulled her back down into the booth. “I'm sorry. I apologize. Really, I do.”

“Would you please release me?”

“No, because you'll run.”

“Then I'll scream.”

“No you won't. You allowed Stanley Thompson to rob you blind and you didn't scream then because you didn't want to make a scene for his family. You, Karen, are not the screaming type.”

She looked at his big, tanned hand clasping her wrist. He was right, she was not a screamer—or much of a fighter. Maybe she needed Ray standing behind her telling her she could do anything before she believed in herself.

Mac's hand moved so his fingers were entwined with hers,
and Karen made no attempt to pull away as he held her hand in his.

“Look, Karen, I know what you think of me, but it's not true. Have you ever told anyone else about your ideas for the baby store?”

“No,” she said softly.

“But you must have been working on this idea since before Ray died. Did you tell him?”

“No.” She and Ray'd had as much as they could handle with the hardware store. And she'd never wanted to give him the idea that she wanted something different—or even something more.

“Then I am honored by your confiding in me,” Mac said, and when Karen gave him a look of suspicion, he said, “Really, I am.” Pausing a moment, he looked down at their two hands entwined. “All those prenuptial agreements were only to see if she
would
sign.”

Karen looked at him in disbelief.

“Honest. If any of those women had signed, I'd have torn it up immediately. But all I ever heard was, ‘Daddy doesn't think I should sign,' or, ‘My lawyer advises me not to sign.' All I wanted was to be
sure
that the woman wanted me and not my family's wealth.”

“Rather a hateful little trick, wasn't it?”

“Not as hateful as marrying me and four years later going through a divorce. And what if we had kids?”

In spite of herself, Karen felt herself curling her fingers around his. “And what about Elaine?”

“Elaine was different,” he said softly, then pulled his hand from hers.

As Karen opened her mouth to ask another question, he said, “Ready?” and the way he said it was a command.

Minutes later they were again in the mainstream of the mall, Mac moving ahead, loaded down with shopping bags. Behind him, thoughtful, Karen followed—until she was pulled up short at the sight of a shop full of the most beautiful clothes for children she had ever seen. In the window was hanging a christening gown of fine cotton, hand-tucked, dripping soft cotton lace.

“Want to go in?” Mac said softly from over her head.

“No, of course not,” Karen said sharply, turning away.

But Mac, already large, was made even larger by all the bags he was holding and he blocked her exit as he moved forward.

“Really, I don't want …” she began, but she stopped speaking as soon as she was inside the store. Never had she allowed herself to look at baby clothes as something for a child
she
might have. For others, yes, but never for herself.

As though in a trance, she went toward the pretty dresses hanging on racks at eye level.

Mac, who had been relieved of his bags by a kind saleswoman, came up behind her. “Not those. The first Taggert baby is always a boy.”

“Nothing is ever ‘always,'” Karen told him, taking down a white cotton dress hand-embroidered with pale pink and blue flowers.

“Here, this is much better,” he said as he held up a red and blue striped shirt. “Good for playing football.”

“I am
not
going to allow my son to play football,” she told him, replacing the dress and looking at some white suits made for what could only be a little prince. “Football is much too dangerous.”

“He's my son too and I say—”

It suddenly occurred to Karen what they were talking about, that they might have a baby together but it wouldn't be
theirs.
Not in any real sense. It wouldn't be … Before she could put together another thought, she ran from the store and was staring in the window of Brentano's when Mac found her.

“You mind if we sit awhile?” he asked, and all Karen could do was nod her head. Her embarrassment over what had happened in the baby store was still too fresh to allow her to speak.

She sat, he piled shopping bags around her, then he went to get the two of them ice cream cones, and for a while they sat in silence with their ice cream.

“Why didn't you and your husband have children?” he asked softly.

“We thought we had all the time in the world, so we put it off,” she answered simply.

For a moment Mac was silent. “Did you love him very much?”

“Yes, very, very much.”

“He was a very lucky man,” Mac said and reached out to take her hand. “I envy him.”

For a moment Karen looked into his eyes, and for the first time since Ray's death she saw another man. Not Ray superimposed over another man's features, but she saw Mac Taggert for himself. I could love again, she thought, and in that moment it was as though all the ice she had protectively put around her heart melted.

“Karen, I—” Mac began as he moved toward her as though he meant to kiss her right there in the midst of Tysons Corner mall.

“My goodness!” Karen said. “Just look at the time. I have an appointment at the hairdresser for the wedding tonight, and I'm barely going to make it. It's here in the mall but on the next level, so I'd better run.”

“When did you make an appointment?” he asked, sounding for all the world like a husband who couldn't believe she'd done anything without his knowledge.

“In between toy stores.” She stood. “I have to go,” she said, then started walking. “I'll meet you back here in two hours,” she called over her shoulder, then disappeared around the corner before he could say another word.

The truth was, she had half an hour before her appointment, but she wanted to get a Christmas gift for Mac. And she wanted to get away from him. She could not possibly fall in love with a man like Mac Taggert. “He's out of your league, Karen,” she told herself. A man like him needed a woman whose father was the ambassador to some glamorous country, a woman who could identify one caviar from another, who could … could …

“Idiot!” she told herself. You are as bad as all the others, thinking you're in love with him. Or worse! Thinking he is in love with
you.

By the time she met him two hours later, she had
managed to calm herself and regain her equilibrium. She saw him sitting on the bench, looking very pleased with himself. “What have you done?” she asked suspiciously.

“Merely had everything wrapped and labeled, and now they are all in the car.”

“I am impressed,” she said, wide-eyed.

“Stop laughing at me and let's go,” he said, taking her arm. “Is that shellac they used on your hair? Or did they give you a wig made out of wood?”

“It's lacquer and I think it looks great.”

“Hmmm,”
was all he'd say as they hurried to the car.

Back at the house, everything was chaos as people scurried to get ready for the wedding. It seemed that nearly everyone had lost a vital piece of clothing and now was frantically trying to find it. When Mac closed the door to “their” bedroom, it was like a haven of calm, and when Karen came out of the bathroom, the bed was covered with boxes and a couple of hanging bags full of clothes.

“It all came while you were in there,” he said, and when Karen started to comment that she'd heard no one enter, Mac scurried into the bathroom.

One box contained silk underwear, all of it white: lacy bra, teddy, and white stockings that ended mid-thigh in lacy elastic. Never before had she heard of a wedding providing underwear along with the dress.

“You don't have time to examine everything,” Mac said as he entered the room.

“But—”

“Get dressed!”

As she picked up the underwear, then the dress that must have been made of three hundred yards of chiffon, she looked at the narrow space in the bathroom and back at the voluminous skirt.

“I won't attack you if I see you in your underwear—but only if you make the same promise to me,” Mac said, deadpan.

Karen started to protest but then smiled devilishly. “All right, you're on,” she said as she took the white silk underwear and went into the bathroom. Moments later she emerged wearing makeup and her underwear and nothing
else—and she knew that she looked great. She wasn't very large above the waist, but, as many people had told her, she had the legs of a showgirl.

“Do you know where—” Mac said as he turned toward her, then Karen had the great, oh, the enormous, satisfaction of seeing all the color drain from his face as he stared at her.

“Do I know where what is?” she asked innocently.

But Mac couldn't say a word as he stood there, his hands frozen, one held outstretched, the other trying to fasten the cuff link on his shirt.

“Could I help you with that?” she asked, striding toward him as he stared at her speechlessly. As sweetly as she could, she fastened first one then the other of his cuff links, then smiled up at him. “Anything else you need?”

When he didn't answer, she smiled again and started to walk away from him, knowing that the back view of her was as good as the front. Thank you, NordicTrack, she thought.

But she had no more time for thought because Mac grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into his arms, then brought his lips down on hers. How could she have forgotten? she wondered. She'd nearly forgotten the deliciousness of a kiss.

He kissed her long and thoroughly, and his big hands caressed her body, pulling her close to him.

Had it not been for the loud knock on the door and the call, “Ready to leave for the church?” Karen wasn't sure what would have happened. Even so, she had to push her way out of his arms, and it was with great reluctance that she did so. Her heart was pounding and her breath was fast.

“We must get dressed,” she managed to say while he silently stared at her. With shaking hands, she picked up her dress and tried to get it on over her head without mussing her hair. She wasn't surprised when Mac helped her pull the dress down over her body, then zipped it up the back. And it seemed natural to help him into the coat of his tuxedo.

It wasn't until they started to leave the room that he spoke. “I almost forgot to give you your bridesmaid gift.” Out of his pocket he pulled a two-strand pearl necklace and an earring with a long drop pearl.

“They're beautiful,” Karen said. “The pearls almost look real.”

“They do, don't they?” he said as he fished out the second earring, then he fastened the necklace on while she put on the earrings.

“Do I look okay?” she asked in earnest.

“No one will look at the bride.”

It was a cliché, but the way he said it made her feel beautiful.

The wedding was enchanting. For all the chaos beforehand, everything went smoothly, and the reception was filled with laughter and champagne. Mac disappeared with a group of men he hadn't seen in years, and for a few moments Karen was alone at a table.

“Do you know how to dance?”

Karen looked up at Mac. “Wasn't that in your report about me? Or did your spies forget such unimportant things as dancing?”

With a laugh, he pulled her out of her chair and led her onto the dance floor. To say they danced splendidly together was an understatement.

Steve sailed by, his lovely bride, Catherine, in his arms, and told Mac he should keep “this one.”

Mac smiled. “You know that no woman wants me for long.”

After Steve had laughed and moved away, Karen frowned up at Mac. “Why don't you tell them the truth? Everyone blames you for all the breakups.”

Mac pulled her closer into his arms. “Be careful, Mrs. Lawrence, it almost sounds as though you're beginning to like me.”

“Ha! All I want from you is—”

“A child,” he said softly. “You want to have my child.”