“The what?” he asked. Ignoring her unspoken directive to leave the presents alone, he rifled through some red tissue paper to get to the perfume beneath.
She covered the phone. “This is a private conversation. And that belongs to me.”
She whipped the bottle from his grasp before he could even open it.
“It’s not as though these things belong exclusively to you,” he said. “You only got them because you’re getting married. And you’re marrying me.” He pulled out a black bustier, imagined Delaney in it and grinned. Maybe this marriage stuff wasn’t so bad, after all.
“Rebecca, I gotta go,” Delaney said. “No, nothing’s wrong…What?”
Conner’s fingers encountered something voluminous and soft, fabric that felt as sheer as the bustier but much more flowing. Removing it from its box, he held up a diaphanous ivory negligee that was probably the most elegant piece of lingerie he’d ever seen. What struck him as even more significant was that it looked exactly like something Delaney might choose.
“This is beautiful,” he started to say, but she slammed the phone down, ripped the nightgown from his hands and shoved it back in the box.
“Don’t,” she said. “I’m returning it.”
“Why?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. She didn’t want to wear it for him. It wasn’t that kind of wedding.
“There’s no need to pretend.”
“Pretend. Right.” Somehow his interest in the presents disappeared just that quickly, and he wondered what he’d been doing following her around, digging through her things. “Sorry to intrude,” he said. “I’ll tell Isaiah about his cake.”
DELANEY SIGHED when she heard Conner’s steps retreat. She knew she’d hurt him in some way, but she didn’t know what to do about it. She’d come home overwhelmed by the attention she’d received at the shower, already embarrassed because everyone in town seemed to think she’d met her Prince Charming—and yet she and Conner were barely speaking to each other. She was marrying him to make amends, as far as she could, for what she’d done, but she wasn’t sure marriage was very wise in the long run, for either one of them. And just when all these thoughts and feelings seemed to be colliding inside her, he appeared out of nowhere and began examining these stupid gifts, things that felt too personal to share with him. And she’d…Well, she hadn’t reacted in the best manner.
She slumped down on her bed, started to call Rebecca back, then hung up. She’d talk to Conner instead, open communications between them, try to gain some understanding of his confusing behavior.
Leaving her presents behind, including the embarrassing memory of unwrapping edible underwear in front of Aunt Millie—thanks to Katie, another stylist at the salon—she walked silently to the other side of the house. But Conner’s office was, for once, dark.
Was he in his bedroom? Continuing around the corner, she came face-to-face with his closed door, hesitated, then raised her hand to knock.
The door opened a second later and Conner stood there, wearing jeans but no shirt. The sight of his bare chest brought their night in Boise back to her—the steam from the shower, the smell of his soap and shampoo, the intimacy of talking to him and getting to know him. She tried to tell herself this wasn’t the same man she’d met that night, that this Conner had good reason to hate her, but it was difficult to get beyond a very basic desire to touch him again.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Delaney opened her mouth to apologize, to try to explain why she’d behaved the way she had a few minutes ago. But once more, he looked so composed and remote that she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She must have imagined the hurt, she decided. Conner didn’t care enough about her to feel hurt. “Um…Aunt Millie wanted me to tell you that she thinks you’re doing your grandfather proud by taking responsibility for the baby.”
He studied her but said nothing.
“And I…” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you for not telling anyone about how I…you know, how we met. I’ve tried to take as much of the blame as possible, but for the baby’s sake, I haven’t told the exact truth. I’d rather not have something that could embarrass our child flying around a community this size, because Dundee never forgets, you know? Do you understand?”
Conner nodded. “I understand,” he said, and shut the door.
CONNER CAUGHT DELANEY by the arm just as she was about to get out of the Suburban they’d taken to Boise to pick up his mother. According to Conner, Vivian Armstrong had decided to fly in a day before the wedding to have some time to meet Delaney; however, Delaney felt less than excited about this aspect of marrying Conner. She felt as though she’d wronged his mother and the rest of his family as much as she’d wronged him.
“At least pretend to like me,” he said. “She’s not stupid.”
Delaney nodded and tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach. She’s going to hate me. They’re going to know I’ve ruined Conner’s life, and they’re all going to hate me. Fortunately she didn’t have to meet the entire family today. Conner’s grandfather and uncles were flying in tomorrow, just in time for the ceremony, and would stay at the ranch overnight. Then they’d all fly back to California together.
Two days had never sounded so long. How were she and Conner going to keep up appearances for such an extended period? Even the ranch hands knew their engagement wasn’t exactly typical.
She put a palm to the small bulge in her stomach, knowing the baby would be a focal point over the next few days, and threw her shoulders back as Conner came around the car.
“Are you feeling sick?” he asked, looking concerned when he saw her.
“No.” She let her hand fall and started moving woodenly toward the terminal.
He stopped her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you scared?”
“No,” she lied.
Maybe he could see through her, or maybe he was just practicing their act, because he took her hand, and Delaney was surprised at how much the warmth and strength of that contact helped her.
“She’ll think you’re lovely,” he said as they walked.
“How do you know?” she asked.
He didn’t look at her. He was too busy navigating across the loading and unloading zones so they could enter the airport. “Because you are.”