Society Wives: Secret Lives: The Rags-To-Riches Wife. Jennifer Greene

      Jack coughed. “Thanks, Aunt Olivia, but I don’t think—“

      “And you,” she said, turning her focus on Lily. “You need to remember that men are like little boys. Every one of them wants to be a super hero between the sheets. If you spend all of your time and energy on the children or the house, you’ll be too tired to let them do their super-hero act. Their fragile egos can’t handle it. So you make sure you save some of yourself for your man,” she continued. “Even if it means ordering takeout food or hiring a sitter for the kids, do it. Because when you close that bedroom door, you need to be a woman first. Understand?”

      “Um, yes, ma’am,” Lily said, but Jack noted she averted her eyes.

      “There’s no need for either of you to be embarrassed. From where I stand, it looks to me like you’re not having any troubles in the bedroom now. All I’m saying is make sure you keep it that way. Good sex is one of the most important things in a marriage. Why do you think Uncle Charlie and I made it for more than sixty years? It’s because we had a good sex life up until the day he died.”

      Which was a lot more than he wanted to know. “Thanks, Aunt Olivia. We appreciate the advice.”

      “Yes, thank you,” Lily said.

      “Just doing my duty,” Aunt Olivia told them.

      And before she started doling out any more advice on sex, Jack said, “You’ll need to excuse us, Aunt Olivia. It looks like Mother needs us to cut the cake.” Taking Lily by the arm, he hustled her across the room. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of this place. What do you say we cut the cake and then head for home?”

      “It sounds good to me.”

      Lily squirmed in the seat of Jack’s car. Ever since she’d hit the fourth month of her pregnancy, trips to the restroom were like clockwork. They came at two-hour intervals without fail. She’d gotten used to it for the most part and simply made sure she was in close proximity to a bathroom when the urge hit. But she had been so anxious to leave the reception that she hadn’t paid attention to her inner clock or visited the restroom before leaving. As a result, she was well past schedule for a bathroom break and there didn’t seem to be a service station anywhere in sight. She shifted in her seat again and wondered what Jack’s reaction would be to his new bride ruining the leather upholstery in his shiny Mercedes. She didn’t want to find out. “Is it much farther?” she asked him.

      “About five minutes,” he told her.

      Lily bit off a groan and squirmed in her seat.

      He glanced across the seat at her. “Is everything okay?” he asked, a worried note in his voice. “Is it the baby?”

      “No, everything is not okay, and yes, it’s the baby,” she confessed and would have laughed at his panicked expression, but knew that even a chuckle right now would result in wet leather seats. “Our little angel is pushing on my bladder and I really, really need a bathroom. So could you please hurry?”

      Jack hurried and ten minutes later when she left the bathroom, she felt almost normal again. Or as normal as she could under the circumstances. She had made such a mad dash for the bathroom when they’d arrived that she had scarcely noticed the two-story Colonial and just how lovely it was. After seeing his parents’ home, she had worried that Jack, too, lived in a sprawling mansion, and she had wondered how she would feel living in such a big place. But she needn’t have worried, because while Jack’s house was certainly enormous compared to her efficiency apartment, she didn’t find it intimidating.

      “I appreciate the offer, Mother …”

      Lily heard Jack’s deep voice coming from another part of the house and realized he must be on the phone. So she used the time to explore her surroundings. She had raced through the door so quickly, intent on finding the bathroom, that she hadn’t noticed that the front door was made of walnut. Nor had she seen the leaded side-lights on either side of the door. Turning, she noted the large rectangular mirror set in pewter that hung over an antique table. A crystal vase of bright red tulips added a burst of color to the muted tones. The sweeping staircase was a real eye-catcher. She walked across the diamond-patterned marble floor and found herself in the living room. The room was gorgeous. A fireplace with a dramatic mantel was the focal point of the room. She could easily imagine a fire burning in the hearth on cold winter days. Floor-to-ceiling windows and built-in bookcases gave the room a welcoming feel. Photographs were scattered about—shots of Jack and his sisters holding skis while they stood in front of a snow-covered slope, shots of his parents on a cruise ship, one of Aunt Olivia standing before a birthday cake covered in candles. She trailed her fingers across the back of one of the couches. The furniture was high-quality and she suspected the chairs alone cost more than all the furniture in her apartment. Yet, it looked comfortable and had a lived-in feel to it. It wasn’t just for show.

      The living room led to a bright sunroom with flagstone floors, lattice work, ten-foot ceilings and southern, eastern and western exposures. There were French doors leading to a stone patio off the sunroom. Reversing direction, Lily headed back toward the foyer. This time she stopped at the base of the staircase and glanced up to where she suspected the bedrooms were located. Thoughts of the bedrooms and her and Jack’s sleeping arrangements set off a nervous fluttering in her stomach.

      She hadn’t allowed herself to think much beyond the wedding, let alone to the wedding night. She and Jack hadn’t discussed what their sleeping arrangements would be. On the one hand, she knew it was silly for them not to share a bed. They were married and it wasn’t as though they were two strangers who had never shared a bed. They had. They were expecting a baby together—a baby that had been created the old-fashioned way. But when she’d gone to his room that night, she hadn’t realized who he was, that he was Jack Cartwright, a member of Eastwick’s elite and the newly appointed board member of Eastwick Cares. No, he had just been the handsome stranger who had eased the ache in her heart. That night, in his arms, it hadn’t mattered that she’d failed once again in her quest to discover who she was and why she had been left at the church. What had mattered was that he had wanted her and she had wanted him. And, for that one night, she hadn’t felt so alone.

      But she had no mask to hide behind now. There was no more pretending she was someone else. She was still Lily. Only now she was pregnant and married to Jack Cartwright, a man who didn’t love her, a man who had married her out of his sense of responsibility because she carried his child. She looked at the rings on her finger, remembered the night Jack had given her his grandmother’s engagement ring and kissed her. She touched her lips, recalling the rush of heat and emotion she’d experienced that night. She’d felt that same rush of feeling when he’d recited his vows and slid the wedding band on her finger. His voice had sounded so strong and true, she could almost believe that he’d meant those words.

       And if you do, Lily Miller, you’re setting yourself up for a fall.

      It was true, she reasoned. If she had learned nothing else in those years she’d been a ward of the state and in the foster-care system, she had learned not to wear rose-colored glasses. Too many times she had gotten her hopes up, thinking that she would be adopted, only to find herself passed over when the couple she’d pinned her hopes on became pregnant or an infant became available for adoption. Lily Miller would do in a pinch—but only until the real thing came along. Jack might desire her, he might even have married her for the baby’s sake. But he didn’t love her. The surefire path to heartache would be to allow herself to think otherwise.

      “There you are.”

      She turned at the sound of Jack’s voice and darned if her heart didn’t kick an extra beat as she watched him walk toward her. He’d lost his jacket, shed his tie and opened the buttons of his shirt at the collar. His dark hair looked a tad less perfect, as though he had shoved his fingers through it. A trace of five o’clock shadow darkened his jawline and made him even sexier than she’d remembered. He looked so tall and strong and sure of himself, she thought. Unlike her, he didn’t seem to be suffering any second thoughts or concerns about the fact that they were now husband and wife.