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  An age-old coldness rose within him, hard and impenetrable. “I make more than enough money to feed this family and a dozen more children.”

  “Money’s not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  She set the paper carefully on the desk. “I know your construction business is profitable, and I am utterly grateful to you for paying off John’s bills. But those debts are still my responsibility. I have to consider Paige and the baby.”

  “They’re protected under our contract. Nothing’s changed. Our agreement stands.”

  “So far, that agreement hasn’t stood for anything,” she reminded him, her tone quiet and nonjudgmental but firm.

  There was no hiding from the truth for either of them.

  He knew she was referring to the passion that had swept out of control and provoked this scene. “It won’t happen again,” he stated through clenched teeth. “I give you my word.”

  A glimmer of weariness touched her smile. “Neither of us knows what the future will bring.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  The look she gave him was sympathetic, tinged with a sadder-but-wiser wisdom. “I discovered a long time ago that promises rarely stand the light of day.”

  “Only if one person changes the rules.” Like his ex-wife had. At first Linda accepted their individual roles. She stayed home with the boys and he earned the money. But then she went to work and discovered the power and freedom that went with earning her own money.

  Was that what Abby was trying to do?

  He studied the shadows engraved under her blue eyes and saw the vulnerability.

  It dawned on him she wasn’t trying to provoke him but merely stating facts as she understood them. “Your husband did a real number on you, didn’t he?”

  She interlocked her fingers as if she needed something to hang on to. “We’ve both been married before, and we know there are no guarantees a marriage will last forever. All I’m asking is that we add an addendum to the original contract that protects everyone’s interests.”

  “In what way?”

  She gestured at the folded paper he held. “If you’d read the addendum—”

  “You tell me what it says.”

  At his noncommittal tone, she squared her shoulders and lifted her stubborn chin. “Basically, it lays out the terms for repayment of the loan. I’ll keep my own bank account so there won’t be any confusion in case of a breakdown in the marriage. I’ve also listed the few assets that weren’t sold to pay off debts. According to a divorce lawyer I spoke to, the rest of the new wording is pretty standard.”

  Disbelief gnawed through his gut. “You went to a divorce lawyer?” He struggled to hang on to his temper. Was she starting to feel hemmed in already? “You want out of the marriage?”

  “No, of course not.” Her surprised reaction seemed almost believable.

  Almost.

  Given how little he understood the female mind, he wasn’t about to claim victory. Nor was he about to back down from finding out what in the hell was going on. “You think I’m going to kick you out or leave you destitute like your former husband did?”

  “Did you think your first wife would put her career before your family?” she countered. “Did you believe she’d leave you with two boys to raise?”

  “You’re not Linda, and I’m not John.”

  “No, we’re not.” Her expression softened with a plea for understanding. “But I knew John several years before I married him. I thought I knew everything there was to know about him and then discovered I didn’t know anything. Whereas, you and I have only known each other a few months. During that time, we’ve been around each other only a handful of days. We really don’t know what surprises the other has in store.”

  “This marriage will last.”

  “Will it?” She crossed the floor between them and laid a hand on the tight muscle of his arm. “We need to be practical. This is more than just you or me.”

  Dev wanted to reject her words, even though she made a heck of a lot of sense. He’d bought into the entire happily-ever-after package when he married the first time.

  And he’d learned the hard price of being so gullible.

  So had his sons.

  Passion didn’t last. It didn’t put food on the table. It didn’t provide a foundation for a family to rely on.

  When he’d proposed to Abby, he’d decided it was best for all concerned to negotiate their union as he would any business deal. He’d used logic instead of romance.

  He believed he’d succeeded until his uncontrollable lust had taken control.

  He’d broken his word to Abby, and now she was pregnant.

  Her unwillingness to trust him was understandable. He was getting what he deserved. They were both going to pay the price for his lapse.

  He tossed the paper down on the desk and considered her rigid posture. She had a right to expect a few concessions—so long as they were reasonable. “You told me you didn’t want to work outside the home.”

  “I don’t.” She sounded sincere, her clear blue gaze never wavering.

  “Then what did you have in mind?”

  “You told me you hated doing bookkeeping and were having trouble keeping up with your office work. I’ve got a good head for figures and could take over those duties. You can keep track of my hours and write them off against the debt.”

  He still didn’t like it. Any of it. Yet, she was right about one thing. He did hate paperwork of any kind, and he’d rather have her work for him than for someone else. At the sight of her hopeful expression, he gave in. “All right, you can help me with the book work and payroll.”

  When her eyes started to beam with pleasure, he walked around the desk and stood in front of her, making sure their bodies didn’t touch. “But I’m not signing the addendum. The original contract stands.”

  “But—”

  He stopped her protest. “If we have too many papers between us, we’ll be sure to mess up. I don’t want to worry about making any more mistakes, do you?”

  He wasn’t about to screw up again. He intended to prove to Abby he was a man she could count on.

  She frowned, eyeing him with uncertainty. “It’s not going to be easy. For any of us.”

  “We’ll make it work.”

  His flat statement didn’t appear to reassure her. “Your Jason is going through those rough middle-school years. He’s bound to resent having a stepmother, a stepsister and now a baby sibling, too. Riley and Paige will have to make major adjustments, as well. We’re going to have to blend two families and make room for a fourth child.” She took a shaky breath, a twinge of sadness pulling at the corners of her mouth before she continued, “We married before we had a chance to know each other. And now the lives of four other people will be affected by that decision. I don’t want to fail four innocent children.”

  “We won’t let them down if we trust each other to follow the contract.” He refused even to consider failure despite all the what-ifs. This marriage would be his first priority. He’d keep everything under control.

  Abby resumed worrying her lip as she moved around the room, a frown disturbing the smooth texture of her skin. “There’s something else you should know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m not much of a cook. I’ve taken every cooking class imaginable, but somehow I never quite got the hang of it.”

  He kept his smile tucked inside. The tension lifted from his shoulders. “We’ll get by.”

  She picked up a pen sitting on his desk and twirled it between her fingers. “I don’t know what kind of toothpaste you use, or what you like to do on a typical Saturday night, or even what your favorite foods are.”

  He shrugged. “I use whatever brand is cheapest, I sometimes read a book or watch a movie on Saturday night and I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me.”

  “How well do you like eggs?”

  “Well enough.” There was something oddly fascinating and endearing abo
ut having her worry about what to feed him.

  “Eggs three times a day can be a bit boring.”

  He didn’t bother to contain his amusement this time. “I’ll take my chances.”

  She tilted her head and eyed him with skepticism. “You’re a brave man.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  ***

  CHAPTER 2

  Late the next morning, Abby awoke feeling more herself, the nausea having mercifully disappeared. A tender smile curved on her lips as she turned and looked at Paige and Princess, who were both sound asleep on the other side of Devlin’s king-size bed.

  The sixth snake had been discovered inside Riley’s jacket pocket, but her daughter stoutly refused to sleep in her new bedroom with one snake still at large.

  Sharing a bed with her daughter was not an uncommon occurrence. Since John’s death, Paige often crawled in with Abby. She had a tendency to be a kicker, though, and it was a good thing Devlin had decided to camp out on the Hide-A-Bed. She doubted that his king-size bed would be nearly as comfortable with three people in it, plus Paige’s feet.

  Of course, this sleeping arrangement would only be temporary. Paige would eventually sleep in her own bed. Then Abby would have to contend with sleeping with Devlin. And after what happened on their wedding night . . .

  Steering her mind away from her new husband and the inexplicable havoc he seemed to wreak on her pulse rate, she looked around the room. The room had a romantic, woodsy scent and feel, due in part to the cedar-lined walls that were identical to those in the rest of the house. An antique dresser and mirror sat perched against the wall. The windows were covered with Venetian blinds and a beautiful landscape painting of peaceful waterfalls adorned the opposite wall.

  Everything about the house and room reminded her of her six-foot-tall husband. Attractive. Solid. No fuss. The man and his home went together.

  Turning on her side, she could see the rest of the room, including the big walk-in closet with neat rows of jeans lined up on shelves. There was a suit or two but no khaki pants or polo shirts.

  Devlin was definitely the blue-jeans type. He favored comfort in his environment and his clothes.

  She thought about her own clothes still packed inside the suitcases sitting at the foot of the bed and tried to imagine them hanging in the closet next to Devlin’s. When her dresses and shirts filled in the empty spaces, she wondered if she’d start to feel more at home. More married. The reality of being here, sleeping in Devlin’s bed and sharing his closet made this marriage seem more intimate than she’d imagined.

  A niggling doubt crept into the back of her mind.

  She’d learned years ago that the only person she could truly count on was herself. Accepting sole responsibility for herself had gotten her through many rough spots and insulated her from being too disappointed when her expectations of others failed.

  She needed that insulation now more than ever.

  Devlin had a power over her senses that stormed her defenses and made her forget to be careful.

  When she’d met him two and half months ago at a party to celebrate his sister and her husband’s fifteenth wedding anniversary, she had been in desperate straits.

  The party had barely started when Abby got a call from Paige’s babysitter to tell her the roof had started leaking again. Because Devlin was an independent contractor, he volunteered to go with her and check it out. He’d managed to temporarily patch the roof and then had returned the next day to make permanent repairs. The few hours he worked on the house had stretched into his spending the majority of the weekend with her. She’d protested the use of his vacation to work on her house. But he’d flashed her his toe-curling grin and said he’d nothing better to do.

  Her daughter formed an instant attachment to Devlin, and surprisingly, he didn’t seem to mind—not like Paige’s own father, who never had an interest in childish games and abhorred jelly-coated fingers. Devlin took time to listen and talk to Paige. He even read stories to her. He became a hero in her daughter’s eyes. And probably in her own, as well.

  How could she resist a man who could nail down the roof and hunker down to a four-year-old’s level to chat about imaginary playmates?

  Abby hadn’t been able to.

  In the short space of that weekend, she discovered she and Devlin had a great deal in common. They’d both suffered major disappointments in marriage. Devlin’s ex-wife had divorced him shortly after his youngest son was born and had moved to New York to further a high-powered career. Devlin had expressed his frustration about Jason’s derogatory feelings toward women. He’d told her about Riley’s being caught stealing another boy’s school lunch, and his bewilderment over the counselor telling him Riley was trying to get Devlin’s attention.

  In turn, Abby had found it surprisingly easy to share the grim details of her husband’s sudden death and the painful discovery of the huge debt he’d left behind. Once Abby started talking to Devlin, she couldn’t stop. Facing the reality of selling their home and liquidating their assets, she’d told him about trying to get a loan, being turned down and searching for any options besides taking a job outside the home and putting Paige in day care.

  Just being able to unburden herself to another adult had been a release in itself.

  When the weekend was over and Devlin returned to Wisconsin, Abby had experienced an acute sense of loss.

  Then two weeks later, Devlin showed up on her doorstep again, helped arrange for a babysitter and took her out to dinner. Later that night, he presented his proposition. He needed a wife and mother for his sons, and she needed financial stability in order to provide a good life for Paige.

  With her options drying up, the bank threatening foreclosure and little money to make ends meet, Devlin’s plan was an answer to Abby’s prayers. The one thing she wanted to be was a mother. Raising Devlin’s sons seemed logical and heaven-sent. Her only stipulation before agreeing to the marriage was that she would pay back John’s debt.

  She refused to be a financial burden.

  Once she’d said yes, Devlin made arrangements for the speedy wedding. She didn’t have time to second-guess her decision.

  Everything went smoothly until after the wedding.

  Paige’s bout with chicken pox was complicated by an allergic reaction to the prescribed medicine. What should have been two weeks between the wedding and their move to Wisconsin stretched into six.

  Because Devlin had been in the midst of a remodeling project, he could come to see them only once during that time. Even though they kept in touch by phone, the easiness that had existed between them prior to the "I do’s" had disappeared.

  The passion that had caught them unawares came at a cost. It destroyed their easy camaraderie. During the weeks that followed, lengthy uncomfortable pauses across the long-distance lines made her question the marriage and whether they’d done the right thing by marrying in haste.

  What did they really know about each other?

  She’d been here less than twenty-four hours and already they’d been buffeted by disenchanted children, closet space, jobs, snakes and the realization that a baby would arrive in their midst in less than seven months.

  She placed her hand on her still-flat stomach. It was too late to reconsider. They had created a new life between them. Yet the future, stretching ahead of them, seemed blurry and uncertain at best.

  They’d married for convenience, which had already been upstaged by a grand case of lust. What other potholes lay in their future?

  Abby, my girl, you’re getting ahead of yourself. At least she’d set down a few rules this time. She wasn’t looking for love and neither was Devlin. That would make things a bit easier.

  She’d been loved and abandoned so many times in her life, she knew better than to relax her guard and believe in rainbows and pots of gold. They were mirages she couldn’t stake her future on.

  Chewing on her lip, she stared up at the beams crisscrossing the ceiling and t
ried to review her options. The only thing she could do was to be a good mother to the children and work to pay off John’s debts so Devlin wouldn’t ever feel he had married a charity case.

  No matter what, she’d never be that dependent or vulnerable again.

  Abby eased her relaxed body out of the bed, padded across the braided rug covering the hardwood floor and stepped into the bathroom.

  Twenty-minutes later, she was in the kitchen, checking the cupboards. She cautiously made friends with the big dog. He welcomed her with a wagging tail and a drooling tongue before jumping up and trying to lick her face. After tussling with him for a few minutes, trying to calm him down, she let him outside on a leash before rummaging through the refrigerator. Since it was almost eleven o’clock, the breakfast hour had come and gone. A good hearty lunch could go a long way toward building family togetherness.

  Halfway through her preparations, a sleep-rumpled Devlin walked into the room, and her heartbeat zigzagged. Bare-chested, wearing only a pair of well-worn jeans, he made her pulse rate pick up speed.

  Settle down, Abby. You’re a married woman with children in the house. You’re not supposed to act like an obsessed teenager.

  So why was she battling a crazy desire to fling herself into his arms and run her fingers through the thick curls of dark hair that trailed from the base of his throat and disappeared into the waistband of his shorts?

  “What do you think you’re doing?” An early-morning gruffness thickened his voice.

  She tore her gaze away from him. “Fixing lunch. I stopped at an Italian take-out restaurant yesterday. This was supposed to be last night’s dinner, but—”

  “You should have woken me, and I would have helped.”

  She shook her head. “I heard you prowling around the house last night. You needed your sleep.”

  “I still do. Hulk snores.”

  She stopped what she was doing and tilted her head. “Hulk?” It took her a moment to realize he was talking about the dog.

  “He insisted on sleeping with me.”