Wonder and Wild Desire Read online

  "It's a good thing I'm here or—" Carrie's voice trailed away in midsentence as Joshua Revell stepped across the threshold. He was wearing khaki-colored denim trousers and a brown leather jacket over a gold turtleneck sweater, and he looked even more frightening than he had in coat and tie.

  Carrie followed him into the living room, demanding, "I don't want you here. I have nothing to say to you. I want you to leave."

  He turned to face her, a careless lock of tawny hair falling across his forehead, and his jaw set in determined lines. "I've had you and your sister investigated, Miss Franklin."

  "You what!" Carrie felt the blood rush from her face. "You hired a private investigator?" She stomped across the room and gripped the back of a chair. "Who do you think you are? What right have you to be investigating us?"

  He retorted coolly, "I had to know something about your character before I could decide whether or not I ought to believe your story."

  "Get out!" Carrie fumed, gripping the chair back harder.

  "No," he replied flatly and proceeded to seat himself on the couch. "It seems, Miss Franklin, that your sister was as innocent as you claim. Apparently she had dated no one but Danny since her arrival in Boise. As for you, you have been living an exemplary life since your arrival in town." She started to protest, but he waved her sputterings aside. "I've given this whole situation a great deal of thought this past week. If Mike is Danny's baby, I won't allow him to be raised in… these circumstances." He glanced about the simply furnished apartment disdainfully.

  Carrie fought back a hysterical sob. "You will not allow it! You will not! Mr. Revell, you are not even entitled to an opinion in this matter!"

  Before she even realized he had moved, he was standing beside her, gripping her shoulders, holding her roughly. He was so close to her that she could feel his warm maleness radiating in waves and the anger seething through his taut body. His hands tightened until they were hurting her, forcing a small gasp of pain from her lips.

  "Don't!" Carrie jerked free, pushing at him until she had the chair between them again. "I've taken good care of Mike since I brought him home from the hospital when he was four days old. I'm sure this apartment doesn't compare with what you are accustomed to, but Mike has all that he needs. And I love him, which is more than you can say."

  "So." Astounding as it seemed to Carrie, he looked curiously relieved. "There is that much in your favor, at least."

  She forced a shaky laugh from her trembling body. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? Your good opinion may be important in some circles, but I assure you I couldn't care less what you think of me. I can do without your condescension, and I can certainly do without your money! After the way you've insulted me, I wouldn't take a dime from you if you begged me!"

  Frowning, he thrust his hands into his trousers pockets and sauntered across the room, then turned to regard her steadily. "I was given to understand by your friend that you have lost your job and have no savings to carry you through until you find other employment. What do you intend to do?"

  "I—I don't know yet. I'll find something, I'm sure. It doesn't take much for Mike and me."

  He looked at her thoughtfully. "I am prepared now to admit that Mike is a Revell. As much as we may both dislike the idea, I feel a certain responsibility for him."

  "I've already told you," she said, "I don't want your money."

  "I did not come here to offer you money."

  "Then why did you come, to gloat?"

  His thick brows were drawn abruptly together into a dangerous frown, his eyes hard at the centers like glittering chips of gold. "My brother is no longer alive to assume his obligations, but his child must have the Revell name."

  Carrie's heart was pounding like a trip-hammer. "What do you mean?"

  He shrugged, but the tenseness of his stance revealed that he was not as relaxed as he wished to appear. "I would like to adopt Mike, Miss Franklin. I can offer him a good home, the best education . . "

  "Everything money can buy!" she added derisively. "Well, you can stop right there. I have no intention of giving Mike up. I am the only mother he has ever known. I'm his whole world! Do you really imagine that the Revell name could take the place of that? Good Lord, you are arrogant!"

  His eyes sparked gold fire as they held hers. "You have the tongue of a poisonous snake, Miss Franklin. But I don't want to waste my breath exchanging insults with you. I think you know any court in the state would decide that I can provide a much better home for Mike than you can."

  "You can't do this! I'll leave Boise. I'll take Mike so far away from Idaho that you will never find us!"

  "Don't make foolish threats." He moved around the chair to stand in front of her, his eyes still on her face. "With enough money to pay investigators, you could be found. And I have enough money." He watched as her hand came up to cover her eyes for a moment. Then he said, "There is one other choice open to you."

  Mutely, she stared into his face.

  "You can marry me," he went on deliberately. "We can get the license Monday and we should be able to marry on Wednesday."

  Carrie was at a loss for words. She could only gaze at Joshua Revell in dumb astonishment, until abruptly her body shook with a shrill, humorless laugh. "Marry?" she exclaimed. "You? Do you think I'd marry a total stranger who obviously considers me some kind of low-life? I'd rather die!"

  "Are you always so melodramatic?" he inquired calmly. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I am not moved by such threats. I have made up my mind, and it does seem to me that marriage is the best way out of your present situation."

  "I can't believe you are actually serious!"

  "But I am—quite serious."

  "The very thought of what your brother did to my sister makes me sick," she said fiercely. "And I despise you for coming in here with your insults and your threats. I may be in dire straits, but I still have some pride left."

  He stopped her near-hysterical tirade by pressing a hand over her mouth. "Listen to me! Regardless of what you thought of my brother, Mike has a right to his father's name and all that goes with it. That little boy in there will be raised as a Revell—one way or another. Do I make myself clear, Miss Franklin?"

  His hand dropped carelessly to her shoulder, where it lay heavy and warm through the velour of her shirt. For a fleeting instant she thought she saw something human—compassion, perhaps—in his eyes. But then it was gone, banished behind the shade that came down and turned his face into a stone mask.

  "Try to get hold of yourself and consider this calmly. Think about the alternatives. Even if you can manage financially until you find another job, you can't afford to fight me in court. And think about the baby. Do you really want to raise an illegitimate child? Consider how that could affect him when he's old enough to understand."

  She twisted away from his grip and buried her face in her hands, struggling to remain calm, to think clearly.

  "The only other choice is to marry me," he went on relentlessly, his harsh words hammering at her, peeling away whatever illusions she might have had about finding a happier solution.

  Carrie lifted her head and gazed into his eyes, so astonishingly golden and luminous in the poorly lighted room. Wind-tanned skin, thick dark blond hair, lashes the color of dark chocolate at the base and curving upward into a honey color at the tips. She had never seen such a striking man; she would surely have admired his utterly masculine good looks if he had been anyone other than who he was. But in his veins ran the same blood as that of the man who had ripped apart her sister's innocence and destroyed her life, and Carrie hated him for that.

  "I couldn't live like that, playacting at a farce of a marriage," she said. "You don't seem to understand that I hate the name Revell."

  A muscle in his jaw jerked as she spat the words at him. The hard bones of his face seemed to protrude even further and the dark centers of his eyes expanded with molten fire. He looked as if he wanted to shake her. Carrie felt a small flicker of triumph that sh
e had managed to puncture his ego, however briefly.

  "After I have legally adopted Mike and he has had enough time to come to think of me as his father—if you still feel the same way—you can have a divorce and a financial settlement substantial enough to allow you to live the rest of your life in more comfortable circumstances than you have enjoyed up till now."

  "I—I have to think," she said rather faintly. "This whole idea is preposterous, and yet—"

  "And yet," he finished curtly, "you really have no viable alternative. You will agree because it is by far the best solution to your problem."

  "W-would Mike and I have to live in your house?"

  "Of course. I must insist upon that. My house is very large, however, so perhaps you could manage to avoid running into me often." The taunt in his words was palpable. "We must present a united front to the world, for Mike's sake."

  Carrie could feel the furious protest clamoring at her lips. But apart from the fact that his reasoning made perfect sense, there was in Joshua Revell's eyes a look that warned her he was not willing to tolerate any more insults. It was plain to Carrie that he meant to have his way, and he was a man with enough power and influence to get his way in almost any matter. She might refuse to marry him, but she was certain that if she did he would take Mike away from her.

  "There are two stipulations I will make." He gazed directly into her eyes, making it impossible for her to look away. "First, no one else is to know that Mike is Danny's child."

  "But Jan—"

  "I am certain your friend's silence can be assured." A mocking smile played at one corner of his mouth. "She seems an eminently practical young woman—far more than you, I must say."

  "What is the second stipulation?"

  "If you ever decide to leave, Mike will stay with me. I will have custody."

  Carrie managed to brush aside the tremor of unease that she felt. Strange as it seemed, Joshua Revell appeared already to have developed a feeling for Mike as a member of the proud Revell family. He had certainly left her in no doubt that what he was doing was for the child's sake. He was willing to provide for her and give the child his name, making no further demands except that he wanted Mike to grow up a part of a respected, influential family. And no matter how she despised the knowledge, Mike was a Revell.

  Suddenly all her arguments against his plan seemed flimsy, and the fight drained out of her. "All right." She gave a helpless shrug. "I'll agree to your conditions. As long as we're going through with this charade, I'd like to have the wedding with as little fuss and ceremony as possible."

  "I quite agree," he returned mockingly. "I know a judge here. We'll go to his chambers. No one else need be present except for the witnesses. I'll ask a friend to stand up with me, and perhaps you would like to ask Miss Winton."

  She nodded dumbly.

  "I'll take care of the arrangements," he said with a sudden brusqueness, as if he were concluding a minor business deal. "I'll call for you on Monday and we'll get the license."

  "Very well, Mr. Revell," she agreed dispiritedly.

  "Now that we are engaged," he said dryly, "you'd better get used to calling me Josh. What do your friends call you—Caroline?"

  "Carrie."

  "Goodbye for now, Carrie. Until Monday." He strode from the room, and Carrie, discovering that her knees had turned to rubber, lowered herself to the couch.

  She was still sitting there a few minutes later when Jan breezed into the apartment. "Gotta rush. Mind if I borrow your down jacket? Carrie, honey, whatever is wrong? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

  Carrie looked up at her friend, who stood in the center of the room, a great deal of puzzlement in her green eyes.

  "I am going to marry Joshua Revell," Carrie heard herself say in even tones. But inwardly she was quaking, the stunning realization of what she had agreed to do belatedly penetrating her dazed consciousness with full force.

  Chapter Two

  The table that was waiting for them at the hotel where Josh had been staying in Boise was in a private alcove, one of several off the main dining room. It was already set for two, and a bucket on another small table alongside held ice and a bottle of champagne.

  Carrie noticed how the young waitress kept glancing at Josh as she took their order. No doubt Joshua Revell was a valued guest, but Carrie felt that the waitress was a little too eager to please. She didn't doubt that the girl was envying her and would have given almost anything to change places with her.

  She couldn't fail to see the irony in the situation. She and Josh, married little more than an hour, were anything but typical newlyweds. It seemed almost impossible that the waitress couldn't sense the strangeness in their relationship. They weren't touching hands across the table or gazing into each other's eyes as if they couldn't wait to be alone together. And Carrie kept her left hand in her lap, concealing the wide platinum band set with four large diamonds that Josh had placed on her slender finger in the judge's chambers. She had been shocked at its price tag when Josh had picked it out for her the day before and had tried to steer him toward the plain gold bands. He had smiled sardonically when the jeweler remarked that a beautiful woman like Carrie deserved diamonds.

  "After all, miss," the jeweler had said to Carrie, "you will only marry once."

  "You sound awfully sure of that." Carrie couldn't resist the opportunity to needle Josh a little.

  The jeweler had been slightly flustered. "Why, I am. I can tell by looking at you and Mr. Revell that you are very much in love."

  "Don't tease him, my dear," Josh had said dryly. "He's had enough experience to be a good judge in these matters."

  "Was that really necessary?" Carrie had asked when they had left the store. "Pretending that we're madly in love."

  "Of course, Carrie." He had looked down at her with an unreadable expression. "We are going to be married. You really must learn to play your part more convincingly."

  "That won't be easy," she said grimly. "I never imagined marrying for anything but love." Relenting a little, she added, "But then I don't suppose you expected your marriage to be a fake, either—after escaping the matrimonial state for so long, too."

  "Our marriage, whatever else it may be, will not be a fake. When we leave the judge's chambers tomorrow, legally we will be man and wife."

  "I didn't mean—oh, you know what I meant."

  "Yes, Carrie, I think I do." His sideways glance made her feel oddly uncomfortable. He cupped his hand under her elbow to steer her across the street.

  "Also, you seem to have drawn a false conclusion. This won't be my first marriage."

  That unexpected bit of information caused her to look up at him with surprise. Curious, she had wanted to ask more. Was he divorced—or widowed? If he'd had children by that other marriage, surely he would have mentioned it. But he had such a closed look on his face, all at once, that she hadn't the courage to question him.

  Already she sensed that he was a private sort of person. Sitting across the table from him, she wondered what he was thinking. There was no denying that he looked suave and stylish in his three-piece brown suit with shirt and tie in cream and brown, wearing the shining gold band that he had provided for her to place on his marriage finger.

  An observer could easily guess that he was successful in business and probably a member of an influential family. At thirty-five (Carrie had gleaned that fact when they had applied for the marriage license and were asked their ages) he was in the prime of life, both physically and professionally.

  "Are you divorced?" she suddenly asked him.

  He looked at her a trifle amused, for she had been silent ever since they had left the judge's chambers as husband and wife. She had been angered at the unexpected kiss he had dropped at the corner of her mouth, even though she knew it was only for show in front of the best man and the judge, both friends of Josh.

  "My wife died five years ago. We were married for three years."

  "I'm sorry." She looked into his face, and h
er eyes against the background of her powder-blue suit and ivory silk blouse, took on the color of a summer sky.

  "Why should you be? It's nothing to do with you."

  He fell silent, his brown eyes fixed broodingly upon the champagne glass in his hand.

  "It's just that I've been so caught up in what I was feeling that I didn't stop to think about you. After being happily married, this must be doubly awkward for you."

  He swirled the liquid in the bottom of his glass. "I assure you, Carrie, I have few illusions about marriage."

  It had taken a lot of courage for her to make a friendly overture, and his seeming rebuff caused her to feel fresh resentment. "Well, I had—not illusions, but dreams. But that doesn't seem to concern you. You don't care that the Revells destroyed my sister, not to mention me."

  "Carrie, if you are destroyed, no one would ever guess it by looking at you." His eyes were narrowed and slightly mocking as they wandered over the loose falling waves of her hair and the creamy delicacy of her face, settling for a moment on her soft, rosy mouth. "You look very beautiful."

  "You can thank yourself for that. Your money bought everything I am wearing." Two days ago he had given her more money than she had ever made in an entire month and ordered her to spend it all on a wedding outfit. "Of course, I realize I have to look my best if I'm to be seen with a Revell."

  He chose to ignore the sneer in her words. "We do make a good-looking couple, don't we? Heads turned when we walked through the dining room together."

  "What an egotistical thing to say!" Her cool blue eyes studied his face, seeing the ruthlessness in the hard angle of cheekbone and chin, a suggestion of sensuality in the firmly sculptured mouth.

  "I never claimed to be the humble sort. That's not my style." He said it tauntingly.

  "No, I'm sure it isn't."

  Something in the unwavering gaze of the gold-flecked eyes hinted at a deep well of passion, a suggestion that he knew all the ways to arouse a woman's darkest desires. What would it be like to be held in Joshua Revell's arms? The direction of Carrie's wayward thoughts shocked her, causing her to blush; at the unbidden awareness of Joshua Revell as the -epitome of masculinity, a sudden alarming anxiety passed through her.