Hawk's Way: Carter & Falcon: The Cowboy Takes A Wife. Joan Johnston

chest and chattered happily, oblivious to the undercurrents.

      Over the next five minutes, Carter’s face looked more and more strained, and his jaw tightened. Desiree realized there was something very wrong.

      “That’s enough for now, Nicole,” Desiree said. “It’s time for you to go upstairs and choose a book for me to read before your nap.”

      Carter sighed as though relieved of a great burden as he lifted Nicole from his lap and set her on her feet.

      Nicole ran upstairs without a backward glance, leaving them alone at the table. Desiree waited for Carter to explain himself. To her amazement, he pretended as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

      “If I’d known how good you can cook, I’d have jumped at that first proposal,” he said.

      Desiree didn’t press the issue. And she chose to accept the compliment, rather than be put off by the fact Carter hadn’t wanted to marry her at first. “Thank you.”

      “Maybe you could give me a tour of the ranch this afternoon,” Carter suggested.

      “Nicole usually takes a nap after lunch. I should be up there getting her settled right now. You’re welcome to take a look on your own.”

      Carter saw the relief in Desiree’s eyes at the thought they wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the day together. He could see she was going to use the child as an excuse to keep them apart. It was funny, because he had planned to use ranch business with her as a way to avoid the child.

      “I can wait until Nicole wakes up. We’ll go then,” he said.

      “She’ll have to come with us.”

      As a chaperon, Carter thought wryly. But the little girl obviously couldn’t be left alone, and there was no one else around to take care of her. One or the other of them would always have to be with her. Which led him to ask, “How on earth have you managed to do the chores around the ranch and take care of Nicole at the same time?”

      “Sometimes it isn’t easy,” Desiree admitted.

      Carter thought that was probably the understatement of the century.

      “All right,” he said. “While Nicole’s napping you can show me around the house.”

      She gave him a disconcerted look. Was he looking for an opportunity to get her alone in the bedroom? “There isn’t much to see.”

      “You can show me what needs fixing. I couldn’t help noticing that the faucet drips in the kitchen, and the newel post on the stairs wobbles.”

      Two pink spots of color appeared on her cheeks. She was thinking of bed, while he was thinking of dripping faucets! It would be funny if it weren’t so humiliating. “I didn’t marry you to get a handyman.”

      He grinned. “But isn’t it lucky that I am one? Come on, Desiree, every house needs a few repairs now and then.”

      Her lips flattened grimly. “I’m afraid this one needs more than that.”

      “Oh?”

      She recited a long list of problems with the house that ended, “And I’m not sure the furnace will make it through the winter.”

      He stared at her, stunned by the enormity of what she had been coping with on her own. No wonder she had wanted—needed—a husband. Strange as it seemed, he felt better knowing how much work the ranch needed. It was a rational explanation for why she had married him, even if she had done it in a damned havy cavy way.

      He could have used his money and had repairmen do everything that needed to be done in a matter of weeks. But he didn’t want her to know yet about his wealth. He wanted a chance to be needed—loved?—for himself alone. Later would be soon enough to reveal the rest.

      “I guess I’ll start on those repairs while Nicole is napping,” he conceded finally.

      “I usually do something quiet, so I won’t disturb her.”

      “And repairing the newel post is hardly quiet.” He said it as a statement, not a question.

      She shook her head. He was pleased to see just the hint of a smile tease the corners of her mouth. The scar didn’t pucker so badly with the smaller smile. He forced his eyes away from the mark on her face.

      “All right,” he said with a gusty sigh. “You can show me the ranch books this afternoon. If you don’t think that would be too noisy a proposition?”

      Desiree giggled. She didn’t know where the sound had come from, and it certainly wasn’t anything she could remember doing recently. But the look of surrender to the inevitable on Carter’s face struck her as funny.

      “Just let me get Nicole settled, and I’ll be back to do the dishes.”

      “I’ll do them,” Carter volunteered.

      “That’s not necessary, I—”

      “The sooner the dishes are done, the sooner we can get to those ranch books.”

      What Desiree heard in his voice, what she saw in his eyes was The sooner we can be alone.

      “Maybe you’d rather take that tour of the ranch,” she suggested.

      Carter shook his head no. “I’d rather wait and go with you.”

      Desiree stood rooted where she was, pierced by a look in his blue eyes that held a wealth of promises. She wanted to warn him that she couldn’t fulfill those promises. But something kept her silent. The longer it took him to figure out the truth about her sexually, the better. She dreaded the disgust she was sure would be her lot when he realized what a failure she was in bed.

      Desiree took one last look over her shoulder at Carter before she left the kitchen. He was already clearing the table. Her grandmother’s silver-rimmed china looked fragile in his big hands, but he moved with easy grace between the table and sink. The thought of Nicole waiting anxiously for her upstairs pulled her from the mesmerizing sight of her husband doing the dishes on their wedding day.

      To Nicole’s delight, Desiree read two stories. The first because she always did, the second because she was putting off the moment when she would have to rejoin Carter in the parlor, which also served as the ranch office.

      When Nicole’s eyelids drifted shut and her tiny rosebud mouth fell slack, Desiree realized the inevitable could be avoided no longer.

      She rose and squared her shoulders like an aristocrat headed for the guillotine. It was time to begin the process of becoming a wife and partner to the stranger downstairs.

      Desiree felt her legs trembling and told herself she was being foolish. There was no need to fear Carter. He was not like Burley.

      Not yet. But what happens when you disappoint him in bed?

      That won’t be for a while yet. Carter promised—

      You saw the look in his eyes when he carried you over the threshold. Was that the look of a patient man?

      So he desires me. That isn’t a bad thing. Especially since we’re married.

      Are you ready to submit to him? To trust him with the secrets of your body?

      Desiree shuddered. Not yet. Not yet. She ignored her trembling limbs and headed downstairs to join her husband. She would just have to be firm with Carter.

      Sex would have to wait.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      DESIREE WALKED DOWN THE stairs, knees trembling—and found Carter sound asleep on the couch. An awkward feeling of tenderness washed over her as she stared at the sleeping man. Apparently he had needed a nap as much as Nicole. She sat down across from him in the comfortable arm chair that faced the fireplace in the parlor and searched his features.

      The rugged planes of his face were less fearsome in repose.