Do you take this rebel - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,60

at once. “Though buying some property outside of town and building would be okay. That way we’ll get exactly what we want, a place with plenty of room.”

So they would barely have to speak, much less spend time together? she wondered. How had it come to this? How could there be such a terrible distance between two people who had once shared everything? Of course, the answer was plain enough. She was responsible. She had no one to blame but herself for destroying the trust that they had once felt.

“Building would take time,” she pointed out, even though her imagination was already at work on all the possibilities. She wondered if he even remembered that once upon a time they had spun their fantasies about what their dream house would look like. It had been spacious but cozy, with lots of fireplaces, overstuffed furniture and a king-size bed for the two of them. That bed had been the centerpiece of all their daydreams. Her cheeks burned at the memory. Now there would be separate beds, separate rooms, if Cole had his way.

“We have the time,” he said, his gaze locked with hers.

For a heartbeat she thought she saw affection, at least, in his eyes, maybe a promise that as the weeks and months passed, they would work things out.

Then he had to go and ruin it by lifting his champagne glass and adding in a sarcastic tone, “After all, isn’t this the first day of the rest of our lives?”

Deliberate cruelty had never been in Cole’s nature. As he heard himself taunting Cassie repeatedly on their wedding day, he wondered if this new pattern of behavior was tapping into an uncontrollable dark side of him, a side far too much like his father in the early days after his mother’s death. He hated the hurt that darkened her eyes, hated that he was responsible, but once his bitterness had been unleashed, he hadn’t been able to stop.

Cassie’s mother had insisted on keeping Jake with her for a few days while Cole and Cassie settled into married life. Obviously, she was determined to keep up the charade that this was a real marriage. And because he cared about her, had always cared about her, he let her have her illusions. He even went so far as to take Cassie’s hand as they ran to the car that her friends had decorated with painted slogans and strings of empty cans.

At the hotel, though, he left Cassie at the door to her adjoining suite, then retreated to the bar, where he nursed a drink and his dark thoughts for hours.

This was the part he hadn’t considered when he’d made his impulsive decision to marry her rather than fight her for custody of his son. He hadn’t imagined what it would be like to know that Cassie was upstairs, dressed in something slinky and sexy, perhaps, wondering if there was to be a real wedding night. He hadn’t thought ahead to how it would feel to know that she was his wife, that legally, at least, they were bound together.

He muttered a harsh expletive and tossed some money on the bar, then headed upstairs. Until he reached the door to his own room, he’d thought he was going to bed—alone. But that image of Cassie wearing lace wouldn’t quit, and his body didn’t seem to understand that she was the enemy, the betrayer.

He took a few steps toward her door, then backtracked to his own, then cursed himself for a fool. He went back to hers and hammered on it.

“Yes?”

Her voice was muffled and sleepy and so damn sexy it made his blood roar.

“It’s me,” he said tightly.

She opened the door and destroyed his illusions. She was wearing an oversize T-shirt that skimmed her knees. Her hair was rumpled, her cheeks streaked with dried tears, her eyes filled with distress. All the same, she was so blasted desirable it made him ache.

If she’d been waiting for him, though, she had long since given up. Cole raked a hand through his hair and bit back another curse.

Still, she was his wife now…if he dared to claim her. He thought about it, then sighed, defeated by his own conscience.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I thought you might be awake.”

“I was until a few minutes ago,” she said. “Do you want to come in?”

“No,” he said, then, “Yes.”

A faint smile touched her lips, then faded. “Can’t make up your mind?”

“I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not? We are married. I have