Maternal Instinct (22 page)

From what her mother had reported, most of the department was here, all of Nell's friends, a few of her mother's, six or eight of Kim's, and half a church of Hugh's and his family's. And Nell hadn't even sent out invitations.

The organ music swelled. She took a deep breath and started walking, aware of Kim and Jen flanking her, but a step back. Smiling faces appeared to each side and vanished. Nell couldn't have put a name to a one of them.

The altar was a blur. Hugh was up there, she was vaguely aware, with Connor at his side, and the pastor smiling beatifically from a step above.

But she was halfway down the line of pews before she really
saw
Hugh, and then she almost stopped dead. Broad-shouldered, lean and dark in a tuxedo, he was gorgeous. The fairy-tale prince she hadn't dreamed about since sixth or seventh grade. Dazed, she didn't even wonder who had gotten him into a tux. She was only aware of his blue, blue eyes watching her progress, of the solemnity of his expression, of his sheer masculine beauty. How could she be marrying a man who looked like that?

Somehow, her legs held up and she kept moving. His gaze caressed her as he took her hand and turned himself to face the minister.

"Friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of this man, and this woman…"

Pastor Harvey said wise things, she supposed, and generous ones, considering he knew what kind of marriage this was. He spoke of love and commitment and cleaving only to one another. A ballooning sense of unreality kept Nell from understanding any of it.

Hugh's hand tightened on hers when, voice slow and deep, he repeated, "I, Hugh McLean, do take this woman, Eleanor
Granstrom
, to be my lawfully wedded wife."

Somehow, in her turn, she repeated a vow to love, honor and keep, till death do them part, this man,

Hugh McLean, stranger. "I do," she said, when the moment came, and he said the same.

"You may kiss the bride." Pastor Harvey smiled gently.

Hugh drew her to face him. He wasn't smiling as he bent his head. She was past expectations, but was surprised nonetheless by the tenderness of that kiss. When his mouth left hers, she blinked and looked up at him for reassurance. Understanding was there, but something else as well, a flicker of raw emotion. Terror, like hers? Not, surely, passion for her.

It was hard to look away from his eyes, but at last she did. The sea of smiling faces refused to become individuals, except for her mother in the front pew, weeping prettily into a hankie and Kim unashamedly sobbing beside her. How could they be so moved, when Nell felt so … distant? So scared and unsure and lost?

But Hugh drew her with him, and they started up the aisle, walking faster and faster until they nearly ran. Nell gasped for breath. "Wait! Do I go with you?"

He glanced down as they burst out of the church. "Of course you go with me."

Cleave unto no other…
They were married. Oh, God.

She didn't object when he helped her into the passenger seat of his Explorer. Strange. Except for the one Sunday, she hadn't been here since… Nell stole a glance over her shoulder. Since they'd made love in the back seat. If you could dignify what they'd done with that particular euphemism. She remembered him on his knees between her thighs, his breath warm on her throat as he muttered erotic words.

Warmth pooled in her belly, and she shifted uncomfortably. They'd been drunk, she tried to remind herself with brutal frankness. That night, to him she was … was
woman,
in some symbolic sense, not Nell
Granstrom
. What was the vulgar saying? All cats were grey in the dark? He hadn't wanted
her.
Still didn't want her. How could he? A man like him and a woman like her. Yet if they took their vows seriously, they were stuck with each other. She wore an unfamiliar ring and had said, "I do."

"How did it come to this?" Until his head turned sharply, she didn't realize she'd spoken aloud.

"You mean the crowd?" His smile was smug as he started the Explorer away from the curb. "I let our mothers handle it."

"Oh." She frowned. "I thought we agreed…"

"I admit, I didn't expect this mob." He ran a finger under his crisp white collar, tugging at it. "Or to have to wear this penguin getup."

"
I
intended to wear a simple suit. I made the mistake of taking my mother and Kim shopping."

"But our families are happy."

She remembered the tears and the knowing smile as Connor clapped Hugh on the back just before they fled up the aisle.

"Yes, I suppose they are," she admitted.

"Now all we have to do is get through the reception and we can make our great escape."

Escape? She swallowed. That depended on what you were afraid of.

"Right. Sure."

"Tomorrow morning, you'll be walking on the beach, the waves running over your toes, nothing but a few humpbacks between you and China."

But tonight… She squeezed her thighs together to quell the throbbing at the same time as her heart did a few hops, skips and jumps.

Tonight, they might find out what a terrible mistake they had made.

Chapter 10

«
^
»

I
n the gazebo
that clung to the
clifftop
, Nell stood with a hand shading her eyes against the late afternoon sun as she gazed at the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Here the curve of the earth was visible on the horizon, a sight that usually stirred Hugh into the rare philosophical—for him—contemplation of how minute he was in the greater scheme of things.

Today, he watched Nell instead. She'd changed into a pair of blue slacks and a cap-sleeved T-shirt for the drive to the ocean. He was getting used to seeing her out of uniform, but that didn't mean he didn't like to look. Despite the recent hot weather, she'd stayed pale, her arms and cheeks a honey gold but her throat and shoulders a creamy white that enhanced the delicacy of her bone structure. He couldn't remember why he'd ever thought her plain. Every time he studied her he saw new details—a hint of a cleft on her chin, a tiny mole on her cheek, the length of her lashes or the faint sprinkle of freckles on her nose. Her beauty was subtle, creeping up on you. She was elegant rather than flashy.

And so damn sexy he had to forcibly wrench his mind from the forthcoming evening. He kept seeing flashes of her from that night in the Explorer: a long white waist and soft blond V of curls as she struggled to pull up her trousers, the plump round of a breast, pale like the moon in the dark interior of the SUV, her butt wedged between the seats with his hands splayed over it. He heard her sighs and demands and throaty cries, too.

What scared him was the horror and undiluted dislike in her eyes after they'd woken up. She'd been drunk when she called his name in husky wonder. What if she
didn't
like him? Didn't want him? What if tonight she was stiff and unhappy, accepting him into her bed because she'd made a bargain and for no other reason?

He stifled a groan and walked toward her across the mown grass. He'd registered inside the rustic lodge while she admired the sea view.

As he approached, he saw the serenity of her profile. For a moment she tipped her head back, closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of salty air. But she tensed immediately when she heard his first footstep on the gazebo floorboards.

"Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?" he asked. "We have time before dinner."

"Can we?" She turned a shining expression on him. "I'm itching to take my shoes off and dig my toes in the sand."

Was that what newly weds were supposed to be itching to do? he wondered wryly. But he made his smile easy. "How about we go change into jeans? I suspect the breeze will turn cold as the sun sets."

"Look." She pointed past the curving creek below to the driftwood strewn beach. "People are gathering wood for fires. Can we do that one of these nights? We could have
s'mores
."

"Yeah." He took her hand. "We can do that."

They carried their bags up to their small room with a big bed and a sloping ceiling. She changed in the bathroom while he did the same in the bedroom. Then they made their way between cabins to the trail to the beach.

Huge logs were piled like Pick-Up Sticks against the reddish clay bluff, forming a maze and a playground for children, who climbed and shrieked and made forts.

"It's hard to imagine waves big enough to fling these trees like—like sticks," Nell marveled. "Have you ever been here in winter?"

"No, but I'll bet it's spectacular in a storm. You can pick up good stuff on the beach the next day, too, I hear. Even Japanese sea floats. Maybe we should have a romantic weekend here this winter. Or a family one," he amended, trying to read her body language. "We could rent a cabin."

"That would be fun." She nodded toward a half circle of sandals left by a family, to judge by the Varying sizes. "Let's leave our shoes."

The golden sand was pure silk between his toes. Nell rolled up her pant legs and looked up at him, laughing. "You're going to get wet, you know."

"Am I?"

"Come on." She grabbed his hand, her mood a thousand times lighter than it had been all day. "I want a sand dollar."

"I think we need a lower tide."

"Oh, pooh. Maybe I'll get lucky."

The beach here was huge, the surf what seemed like a quarter of a mile from the bluff. To the north,
Kalaloch
Creek spread a shimmering net of streamlets over the sand as it met the ocean. To the south, the beach arched toward a distant point.

They walked along the firm, damp sand at the water's edge, visited occasionally by a white or pale-brown gull, coming across a few flocks of sandpipers chasing the outgoing waves. Once a jogger passed; in the far distance, someone threw a Frisbee for a dog. But for the most part, they were alone with the constant, muted roar of the surf and the sinking sun. They scarcely talked, Nell seemingly content to leave her hand in his. A couple of times she tugged him playfully into an advancing rush of wave and laughed as he protested against the icy temperature.

When the entire horizon was painted in orange and purple and the sun was a half disc that cast a long glowing trail across the ocean, Hugh stopped her. "Let's turn back. You'll get cold."

"I am getting hungry," she admitted.

He'd noticed she ate nothing at the reception. He hadn't been in the mood himself.

"The wedding was nice," he said.

"It was." She sounded surprised. "I was petrified."

"About marrying me?"

She made a face up at him. "About walking down the aisle. I just knew I was going to trip and fall flat on my face, or people were going to buzz about how inappropriate my dress was, or—" she gave a small, huffing laugh "—you can fill in the blank."

Her gaze was fixed raptly on the setting sun. Watching her, Hugh said, "Here's one of those facets of you that doesn't show on the surface. You seem so confident."

"I was never exactly a … belle, even in high school. And, you know, when you're a young, single parent, you don't date. Who has time, or money to pay a baby-sitter? And what young guy is interested in a woman who has a kid?"

"Idiots." He grinned at her startled look. "You were so beautiful coming down the aisle today, Connor had to remind me to breathe."

Her smile was small and even sad. "Thank you for saying that."

"Damn it!" He stopped abruptly. Barely aware of a cold wave rushing over their feet, he pulled her to face him. "I'm going to cure you of this inferiority complex."

Her chin lifted. "I don't feel inferior! I know my own qualities. I'm a good cop, and I think a good mother. Mostly. I'm just not Helen of Troy."

"Maybe you are, to me." Even to him, his voice sounded rough. Odd.

Tension quivered through her. "You don't have to … pretend. I—I'd rather you didn't."

"Who says I'm pretending?" Anger joined the current of passion running through his veins. Hugh gripped her chin and bent his head, kissing Nell with more savagery and a hell of a lot less finesse than he'd intended for his wedding night.