Do You Take This Cowboy?
Author
Jeanne Allan
Reads
15.3K
Chapters
11
Chapter 1
J.J. HAD never seen a more beautiful woman. Envy, no less intense for being unexpected and totally irrational, slammed her in the stomach. The painting, simply titled Her Life, portrayed the pioneer woman hanging her washing on a sagging clothesline. Near the woman a pair of toddlers played in a small garden patch, a baby slept in a cradle, a pie cooled in an open window and a shotgun leaned against the door of a small sod house. The signs of human activity occupied less than one-quarter of the painting while a flat, bleached sky and parched, treeless plain filled the rest. J.J. wondered if the artist had mounted the watercolor on a slab of old barn wood rather than frame it to symbolize the sense the pioneers must have had of vast, never-ending prairie and sky.
The dull, nearly monochromatic watercolor presented an eloquent portrayal of hardship, loneliness and despair until one noticed the tiny daubs of color. Dimly visible in the background a man guiding a wooden plow behind a plodding horse wore a barn red bandanna around his neck. Near the house a single garish pink rose bloomed on a scraggly bush. The artist had cleverly used the two splashes of color to guide the viewer to the faded indigo blue of the woman’s bonnet hanging down her back as she lifted her face to the sky. The woman’s sun-and-wind-ravaged face shone with strength, courage and hope.
J.J. debated mentioning the painting to Burton. He was too well mannered to gloat, but after her fuss about being dragged down near Larimer Square in Denver to the gallery opening on her birthday, he’d be entitled to a passing moment of satisfaction at hearing she’d seen at least one picture she liked. Not that she could explain the effect the watercolor had had on her.
Chattering self-importantly about the artist’s technique and minimalist color sense, a group of people crowded around J.J. Not wanting their pretentious opinions to taint her instinctive reaction to the watercolor, JJ. moved on through the gallery. Puzzling over her unexpected response to the watercolor, she barely noticed the other paintings hanging on the walls.
Suddenly the sensation of being watched pricked the base of her spine. In the way a wild animal recognizes her mate, she sensed him before he spoke.
“Hello, O’Brien.”
JJ. turned slowly. Her gaze collided with a red silk tie littered with whitened cattle skulls. She blinked and shuddered. Her gaze crawled upward past the blunted point of the cleft chin, dark with its habitual five-o’clock shadow, and halted in fascination at the tiniest twitch at the corner of the lips. They were ordinary lips; certainly no reason for her insides to pitch and roll.
The lips moved. “The tie was a gift.” Amusement rippled through his deep voice. “You’re looking good, O’Brien. In spite of that feed sack you’re wearing.”
She forced herself to meet Luke Remington’s eyes. Hazel eyes that combined gray-brown with blue in a thousand different ways depending on his mood. She’d told him once his eyes were the color of her brother’s favorite agate marble. He’d laughed and said the color made him think of a pond filled with muddy silt. Now she said, Hello, cowboy. No time no see,” with just the right tone of airy nonchalance. He’d never know her pulse threatened to burst through her skin.
He’d changed little since she’d seen him a year ago. Then she’d foolishly considered him the handsomest man ever to cross her path. Her infatuation conquered, she thought his ears stuck out a little from his head. He’d never tame the wave above his left temple. He wasn’t handsome. He was heart-stoppingly male.
J.J. wrapped her fingers tightly around the handle of her leather briefcase, thrusting treacherous memories back into their deep hiding place before he read them in her eyes. No one else had ever come close to reading her the way he had. Or so she’d thought. She smiled, a practiced, professional smile. “What are you doing here?”
“That.” The tanned skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled, and Luke nodded to the wall behind her. “I guess it’s not such a good likeness. You didn’t recognize me.”
J.J. whirled to face the oil painting she’d been standing blindly in front of. Dismay flooded through her. Why couldn’t she have stopped in front of any other painting? Tilting her head, she stared critically at the painting, searching for something dismissive to say.
A cowhand and his horse stood wearily, their dirty, sweat-covered bodies sagging. J.J. concentrated on the man’s face. Luke’s face. Satisfaction overrode the weariness. The air of a job well done. The same feeling she had after she’d won a particularly difficult case. The satisfaction a person could only earn. Not meaning to, she asked abruptly, “Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?” Then she saw the tiny calf sprawled across the saddle and had to smile. “You saved him.” She turned. Luke’s gaze caressed her face. Remembered pleasure shimmered over her skin.
“You cut your hair.” He cocked his head to one side. “I like it. Makes you look sexy as hell.”
J.J. arched a haughty brow. Her stylist cut her medium gray-brown hair chin-length to curve slightly under in a severe businesslike style. “It’s practical.”
His half smile told her how little he thought of her claim. A lazy warmth stirred in the back of his eyes. “Very sexy.” He sent a provocative gaze crawling the length of her body. “I’ll bet a year’s wages you’re wearing slinky silk underwear under that horse blanket,” he drawled.
“It’s not a horse blanket.” If she were a better liar, she’d tell him he’d loose his bet.
“There you are, JJ. I lost you in the crowd. Ready to go eat?” Burton lightly touched her arm.
Gratefully J.J. swung around to smile at him. “Yes.”
“Ah, you’ve forgiven me for persuading you to attend the opening,” Burton teased. His gaze slid beyond her, touching first on the painting, then on Luke. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Burton Alexander. That’s you in the painting, isn’t it?”
“It’s me,” Luke agreed.
The two men couldn’t have presented a greater contrast. Burton, wearing a conservatively cut, charcoal pin-striped suit, white-on-white striped button-down shirt and red Italian foulard tie, looked the very successful lawyer he was. If he envied Luke’s four-inch height advantage, tanned, rugged good looks, and broad-shouldered, lean-hipped physique clad in jeans, blue denim shirt and tweed sport coat, Burton managed to keep any trace of that envy from showing. Burton probably didn’t even notice Luke’s aura of sex appeal, which had every woman in range preening and wishing she were the focus of all that raw masculinity.
“Are you a model?” Burton asked.
Luke laughed. “No. Harve wanted to paint some spring ranch scenes, so he stayed with us for a couple of weeks last year.” He extended his hand, introducing himself. “Luke Remington.”
Burton shook hands. “Remington,” he repeated, his brow wrinkling. “You aren’t—”
“Yes, he is.” J.J. confirmed Burton’s obvious surmise. “Isn’t this an amusing birthday surprise? My husband and the man I’m going to marry running into each other like this. What are the odds?”
Burton looked around the restaurant in the area of lower downtown Denver known as LoDo. “I should have canceled these reservations. I’m sure you would have preferred a T-bone or something.”
“Eye-talian’s okay,” Luke assured him. “I can always order spaghetti. I reckon I know what that is.”
“I shouldn’t have ordered wine,” Burton continued. “You probably prefer beer.”
“Yeah, us beer-guzzling cowboys ain’t got much of them palates,” Luke pronounced it pah-lates, “for fancy stuff.”
The sarcasm found its mark, and Burton’s face reddened. The appearance of a waiter to take their orders gave the older man time to consider his words. “I apologize for my idiotic remarks. I didn’t mean, well, this is a little awkward, isn’t it?”
His rare loss of composure underlined how awkward. For the first time since J.J. had known him, Burton Alexander’s brilliant legal mind and famous unflappable demeanor had deserted him. Of course, he’d never before dined with the husband of his future wife. Not that he hadn’t brought the uncomfortable situation on himself by inviting Luke Remington to join them for dinner. J.J. had always admired Burton’s impeccable manners. If only certain others shared them. She glared across the table at her husband. “Any gentleman with a smidgen of acquaintance with proper etiquette would have politely declined Burton’s rhetorical invitation.”
“Goldarn, O‘Brien, I wish you wouldn’t mix me up with all them big words. If you’re talking manners, I took off my hat, and I shure mean to eat without usin’ my fingers.” He gave her a soulful, accusing look. “If you rightly remember, lawyer lady, I ain’t had the benefit of all your fancy schoolin’.”
“You might remember I wasn’t born yesterday,” J.J. said, “so stop that ridiculous corn pone act right now.”
“I thought the simple, down-to-earth quality about me is what attracted you,” Luke drawled.
“Why do you call her O’Brien?” Burton asked quickly.
“J.J. ain’t no kind of name for a woman like O’Brien.”
“If you say ‘ain’t’ one more time,” J.J. snapped, “I am going to throw my Caesar salad at you.”
Satisfaction gleamed briefly in Luke’s eyes before he turned to Burton. “So you and O’Brien plan on getting hitched.”
“After she gets her divorce, yes,” Burton said cautiously.
“I wondered if she’d remembered that little detail.” A feral grin curved Luke’s mouth. “I suppose that’s why you invited me to dinner. To soften me up for a divorce.”
“I thought dinner would be an excellent opportunity for us to become acquainted. I assume a divorce between you and J.J. is a mere formality.”
Luke gave Burton a cool, assessing look. “Why would you assume that?”
“You’ve been separated for a year.”
“Didn’t our vows say something about as long as we both lived?” Luke asked JJ.
“I remember very little of our so-called wedding, including the vows,” J.J. said in a forbidding voice.
Luke’s grin returned. “I guess we were in too big a hurry to get back to your place to remember much of anything about our wedding. In a hurry to get to bed,” he added, in case Burton needed a picture painted. “I offered to buy her a big, fancy wedding lunch, but O’Brien wouldn’t even stop for that.”
Because she’d been worried he didn’t have that kind of money. A suspicion she hadn’t voiced then, and wasn’t about to voice now. In spite of Luke’s provocative comments. “Burton is less interested in our wedding than in our divorce.”
“I have a little interest in that subject myself.”
“Then you’ll raise no objection to meeting in my of fice on Monday so we can discuss some of the details,” JJ. said.
Luke took his time swallowing some wine. “No.”
“Good.” The empty feeling in the pit of her stomach came from delaying dinner so they could attend the gallery opening. She picked up her wineglass and saluted Luke. “Here’s to a friendly, amicable divorce.”
Luke set down his glass and leaned back against his chair. “I meant no, I won’t go to your office Monday and discuss a divorce.”
Burton said, “If Monday is inconvenient, we can—” “What’s inconvenient is a divorce.” Nothing about Luke Remington’s flat statement indicated he was kidding.
J.J. banged her wineglass down on the table. “Our marriage is inconvenient.”
Luke looked from her to Burton and back again. He raised an insulting eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem to be.”
“JJ. has always behaved with the utmost propriety. Her conduct has been honorable throughout our acquaintanceship.” Burton added dryly, “In case I’ve used words of too many syllables for you, Mr. Remington, I’ll state this simply. J.J. has never slept with me. She refuses to do so until she obtains a decree of Dissolution of Marriage.”
“Why not, O’Brien?”
“It has nothing to do with you.” Luke had been the first and only man in her bed. J.J. drew on the tablecloth with her fork handle, and repeated the explanation she’d given Burton. “Burton has an adolescent daughter. When I’m her stepmother, I don’t want to be in the position of counseling Carrie against premarital sex when she would be bound to know if her father and I engaged in it.”
She could have added, everything in her screamed against an adulterous relationship; instead she changed the subject. “What do you mean a divorce is inconvenient? We agreed we were totally incompatible.”
His casual comments that morning a year ago about her moving had caught her totally by surprise. She’d assumed they’d live in Denver where she worked for a prominent law firm earning good money with excellent prospects for earning better. She’d purchased her town house six months earlier. As a homeowner and the larger wage earner, never once had it occurred to her he’d expect her to pull up stakes and follow him to the boondocks. She’d expected Luke to look for employment in Denver.
The stunning realization he’d been thinking along totally different lines, making totally different assumptions had forced her to face reality. “We agreed we’d be better off facing the truth that we’d been foolishly impulsive. We agreed dissolving the marriage made more sense than deceiving ourselves into thinking we could make it work.”
They’d been kidding themselves if they thought the emotion between them was love. People in love asked questions, made plans. She knew he liked hot, buttered popcorn, hated flavored coffee and moved with a slow indolence, which could disappear at a second’s notice. He sang off-key in the shower. When he showered alone. He’d been an imaginative, satisfying lover. She had no idea how he’d expected to support them if she abandoned the practice of law.
“I knew something was up when you spent over an hour in the shower that Monday morning,” Luke said. “You came out of the bathroom armored from head to toe in a heavy bathrobe and announced you’d changed your mind. You carefully pointed out the differences between us. How I was nothing but a poor, crude, undereducated saddle tramp while you were cultured, well educatead, well paid, and after that long shower, no doubt well cleansed. No dirt under your fingernails, right, lawyer lady?”
J.J. knew her face matched the tomato on her plate. “I never made any such comparisons.”
“Not in so many words, but even a dumb cowboy could guess what you were thinking.”
“I didn’t have to guess what you were thinking, did I? You told me. You wanted a wife who worked side by side with her husband. A wife whom you expected to wear jeans, but not the pants in the family. You wanted a woman to cook your meals, wash your socks, warm your bed and raise your children. You didn’t want a wife—you wanted an unpaid servant.”
“I wanted a woman,” he said coldly, “who wanted a man. I don’t know what the hell you wanted. You had a great time slumming for a week, playing house with a big, bad cowboy. Then reality slapped you in the face, and you panicked at the thought of moving to North Park.”
“I didn’t panic. I came to my senses. One of us had to be pragmatic.”
Luke snorted. “Pragmatic, hell. You were plain chicken.”
“We’re getting away from the point,” Burton said. “Why would a divorce inconvenience you, Mr. Remington?”
“Call me Luke. If we’re going to share a wife, we ought to be on a first-name basis.”
“You are not going to share me.”
“Perhaps it would be best if we left O’Brien out of this discussion. Women tend to get so emotionally tied up in a situation, it’s impossible for them to reduce a thing to its lowest common denominator.”
“I’m not sure I follow you, Remington.”
The barest hint of a mocking smile registered Luke’s appreciation of Burton refusing to use his first name. “O’Brien wants to be the man in the family, so let’s talk alimony.”
Shock surged through JJ.’s veins. “Alimony! I’m not going to pay you one thin dime.” How could she ever have thought she loved this man? “No judge in the world would order me to pay alimony to an able-bodied man.”
“Well, now, about that able-bodied business,” he drawled. “I might have pulled or strained something the day I met you.”
“Of all the outrageous lies!”
“And there’s, what do they call it? Loss of consortium?” Luke shook his head sadly. “Almost a week of unmitigated bliss, and then, boom, nothing. Being cut off like that can cause intense physical and psychological damage to a man.”
“Unmitigated bliss.” J.J. ground her teeth. “The only thing unmitigated is your gall.”
“You mean you didn’t feel our marriage was a pure and sacred union of two minds? You didn’t feel two hearts beating as one?”
“The only thing between us was sex,” J.J. was driven to say, “and you know it.”
Luke grinned wickedly. “So you do remember a few things about our marriage.”
Before she could explode, Burton intervened. “Maybe we ought to hear what he has to say, J.J. I’m sure we can negotiate a settlement agreeable to all of us. Put your offer on the table, Remington.”
“I’m not going to negotiate anything with him.” She’d once thought he loved her. Though he’d never said so.
“Let’s start with me saving O’Brien’s life. That ought to be worth something to you, Alexander.”
“You want payment for that?” J.J. gasped. “That’s the most despicable thing you’ve said so far.”
“I didn’t realize you’d saved J.J.’s life,” Burton said.
“See, O’Brien. It makes a difference to your boyfriend. How much is she worth to you?” he asked Burton.
“J.J. is above price.”
“Thank you, Burton.”
“And he hasn’t even slept with you. Imagine how your value will go up then.”
“That does it. I’d hoped we could settle this like two civilized people, but if you want to fight this divorce action, cowboy, go ahead and fight. By the time I get through with you, you’ll feel as if every cow in North Park has stomped on you.”
“Easy, J.J. There’s no need to act in haste. If you’ll allow me to act as your lawyer—”
“I don’t need a lawyer, Burton. I am a lawyer.”
“I didn’t know about O’Brien’s temper, did you, Alexander? She’s kinda cute when she’s mad, isn’t she?”
An underlying tone she couldn’t identify in Luke’s voice brought J.J. up short. The suspicion took root that Luke was deliberately baiting her. She forced herself to speak in an admirably steady voice. “What is it you want?”
Luke stopped eating and stared thoughtfully at her for a long time. “You mentioned,” he finally said, “something that morning about bright prospects.” A chilling smile slowly curved his lips. “What’s it worth to you to get rid of me? To fix it so our paths never again cross?”
Bitter acid chewed J.J.’s stomach. She’d married this man, slept with him and planned to spend the rest of her life with him. She’d thought she knew him. She hadn’t known him at all.
He’d come barreling from out of nowhere, shoving her aside as he grabbed the toddler she’d paused to smile at. It happened so fast she didn’t even have time to yell. One second JJ. was bending over a little girl in her stroller; the next she was flying through the air. The action seemed to occur in slow motion—shock, disbelief, hearing the commotion around her, knowing she was going to fall and knowing she could do nothing to catch herself. Her bottom had not yet hit the ground when a huge brown horse thundered past, his deadly hooves slashing down the wide aisle.
As J.J. sat stunned, the mother dashed over to grab her child and tearfully thank Luke. By the time Luke turned to J.J., she’d realized what had happened. The horse had broken loose from his handlers and dashed for freedom. Totally oblivious to their danger, JJ. and the little girl, whose mother had wandered a few steps away to pet another horse, stood in the runaway’s path. If Luke hadn’t seen the danger and acted instantaneously, both J.J. and the child might have been seriously maimed, if not killed.
Before J.J. could thank Luke, he’d extended a helping hand, given her a rueful smile and apologized. The twinkle in his eyes had directed J.J.’s attention behind her. She’d landed in a large, steaming pile of what her dad called “horse apples.” JJ. never knew if it was the twinkling eyes, the rueful smile, or the incongruity of Luke apologizing for soiling her skirt when he’d saved her life, but she’d laughed until tears came. Five days later, the next Wednesday, they’d gotten married. The following Monday they’d agreed to a separation.
And not once in that time had J.J. entertained even the slightest notion that one day Luke Remington would try to extort money from her. A sense of loss engulfed her. She’d given herself to this man. Thought she’d loved him. She hadn’t. Infatuation, that’s all it had been. Brought on by gratitude plus the fact Luke Remington had more than his fair share of sex appeal. She’d been foolishly impulsive, but sometimes, at night, bittersweet memories of that week filled her dreams. No more. Luke watched her, waiting for her answer. J.J. swallowed hard against the nausea rising in her throat. “How much did you have in mind?”
“Three weeks.”
JJ. blinked in confusion. “Three weeks of what? My draw from the firm?”
“You,” Luke said softly. “Three weeks of you.” He took a bite of crusty bread, his white teeth crunching savagely.
Burton choked on his wine. “Now just a minute, Remington.”
“You’re crazy,” JJ. said flatly.
Luke looked at her, a small, humorless smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Not crazy. Mad. As in seriously annoyed.”
“You have nothing to be annoyed about.”
“Maybe I didn’t like being kicked out.”
“We’ve been separated for a year,” J.J. said, “and you’ve made no effort to contact me in that time.”
“I hope you didn’t expect me to come crawling on my hands and knees to Denver, begging you to take me in.”
“Of course not. And I don’t believe you want me back.”
“Who said I wanted you back?”
“You did,” J.J. said through clenched teeth. “You said you wanted me for three weeks. Forget it. Take a cold shower.”
“You think I meant...?” Luke laughed mockingly. “I said I was annoyed, not desperate for sex. No matter how good it was between us.” He paused. “And it was very, very good.”
J.J.’s face flamed. She felt Burton, who’d remained silent through the interchange, shift beside her. She didn’t need him to handle this for her. Before he could intercede, she spoke quickly. “Quit playing games, Luke, and tell me exactly what you’re after.”
“One year ago I married you, planning to share my life with you. Oddly enough, I thought you planned to share your life with me, but fancy lawyer ladies don’t share their lives with riffraff, do they?”
“I’m sorry if I hurt your pride, but I’m not going to give you one thin dime.”
Burton cleared his throat.
“No, Burton, I am not. I’m going to initiate divorce proceedings tomorrow, and there is nothing Luke Remington can do to stop me.”
“Maybe not stop you,” Luke said, “but I can sure slow the process down. Not to mention spice it up. I’m willing to bet you’ve bested more than one lawyer in Denver who’d be thrilled to represent me. We could come up with enough writs, habeas corpuses, court orders or other legal mumbo jumbo to create a judicial mine field between you and your holy grail. It would make for nice, juicy reading in the newspapers, don’t you think, lawyer lady?”
“I’m sure you’re prepared to propose an alternative, Remington,” Burton said.
“As it happens, I am.” Luke looked steadily at JJ. “You come back with me, spend three weeks at my place.”
“No,” she said.
“Scared?”
“I’m not—”
“Sure you are,” Luke said coolly. “You’re nothing but a canary yellow chicken masquerading as a tough guy. Everybody here might buy your act, but you’re terrified real people would spot what a fake you are.”
“You can’t challenge me into taking up your insane proposition.” JJ. had faced far more formidable opponents in court to fall into Luke’s flimsy trap.
Luke laughed shortly. “Three weeks,” he repeated. “Then I’ll sign any divorce papers you stick in front of me. Hell, when you marry Alexander, I’ll even give away the bride.”
“Happy birthday to me,” JJ. said bitterly as she paced back and forth across the living room of her Denver town house. “If you hadn’t insisted we go to that stupid opening... I hate Western art. It was as clichéd as I feared it would be.” No doubt the glass of champagne she’d drunk on arrival at the gallery had everything to do with her momentary weakness in front of the watercolor of the pioneer woman. The champagne or hunger pangs. She’d lost her appetite soon enough.
“The gallery’s owners are clients,” Burton reminded her again. “I had to make an appearance.”
“I don’t know why they had to have the opening during the stock show.” JJ. continued to pace.
Burton didn’t bother to point out the obvious connection between the National Western Stock Show and Western art. They both knew her anger and frustration weren’t directed toward the gallery opening. “You never told me Remington saved your life.”
“He was playing hero and pushed me out of the way of a runaway horse at the stock show last year.” She didn’t want to be reminded of her obligation.
“What were you doing at the stock show? You’re the last person I’d expect to be at a rodeo.”
“Not the rodeo. I was in one of the barns or something. You know how the firm feels about us doing pro bono work.” At his nod she continued, “I was there interviewing a potential witness in a domestic violence case.” She made a face. “That was when I was still assigned all the cases with a woman’s angle.”
“Did you ever consider you were assigned those cases because you did such a superb job handling them?”
“C’mon, Burton, we both know I’m the token woman in the firm, hard as it is to believe in this day and age. The partners still think women ought to be kept barefoot and pregnant.” Her churning emotions wouldn’t allow her to stand still.
Burton laughed. “I don’t think they’re quite that bad. And you might remember you’re speaking to one of the partners.”
“I remember. I’ll be grateful to you until the day I die for persuading the others to give me a chance to prove I could stand up to the big boys in court.”
“Is that why you agreed to marry me? Gratitude?”
J.J.’s pacing came to an abrupt halt, and she whirled to face Burton. “Of course not. And before you ask, I didn’t agree to marry you to advance my career, either. I’m extremely fond of you and Carrie, and I know you’re starting to feel out of your depth with Carrie on the brink of womanhood. I want to help you. I hope I can make life a little easier for both of you.”
“You don’t mention love.”
After a long moment, J.J. said, “You’ve never mentioned love before. I thought you preferred it that way. I know you wouldn’t remarry if it weren’t for Carrie. I assumed you didn’t want the burden of another woman loving you when you felt you couldn’t return her love.”
“Are you in love with me, JJ.?”
“I care for you very much.”
Outside her curtained windows, the scream of emergency vehicles tore through the night. Burton seemed not to hear the sirens as he stared at a spot on the wall beyond JJ, “When Caroline died of ovarian cancer, I wanted to die, too, but I couldn’t. I had Carrie.”
“Caroline was a beautiful person. You and Carrie must miss her terribly.” J.J. hesitated. “I want Carrie and me to be good friends. I don’t intend to take the place of her mother.”
“Carrie wants you for her stepmother.” Looking down at his folded hands, Burton said somberly, “I don’t think Carrie and I could deal with losing another wife and mother.”
“You’re not going to lose me. Once we’re married, I’m sticking to you two like glue.”
“I imagine Remington thought you’d stick with him.”
“Burton, he expected me to give up everything. Sell my house, quit being a lawyer, go off to the boonies where all I’d be is his housekeeper and lover. I didn’t go to college for six years and work all those extra hours at the office to toss it all away for a man who doesn’t own much more than a saddle.”
“You’ve kept your marriage a secret. I didn’t even know you were married until I asked you to marry me. Even then you told me little, and I didn’t want to probe.” He looked at her with unblinking eyes. “I’ve known you since you joined our firm four years ago, J.J. You are not a woman of impulse, yet you married Luke Remington after knowing him less than one week.”
“In a moment of insanity. I was a fool, okay? Can’t we leave it at that?”
“I want you to enter into our marriage absolutely certain of what you’re doing.”
“I am absolutely certain.” She stepped nearer, willing him to believe her. “Years ago I decided I wanted to be a successful top corporate lawyer. I thought I’d have to forego a husband and children, but with you and Carrie I’ll have everything.”
“Everything,” Burton repeated gravely. He contemplated her as she stood in front of him. “I met Caroline in college. The first day she walked into speech class I decided to ask her out. I was still gathering my courage several weeks later when she gave a wonderful speech on women’s rights. After class I complimented her. She gave me a smile so filled with a mixture of gratitude and triumph that right then and there I blurted out I intended to marry her.”
J.J. smiled gently at Burton. “What did she say?”
“She said it was all right with her, but she hated to play bridge, she wanted six kids and she expected to live in a big house.” He looked into space. “The powers that be saw fit to bless us only with Carrie, but at least Caroline had her big house, and we never played a game of bridge during our entire marriage.” His gaze returned to J.J. “I loved her deeply.”
“I don’t expect that kind of love,” J.J. said quietly.
“Don’t you see what I’m getting at? Love at first sight might be a cliché, but with Caroline and I, it happened. And it lasted. Sure, we disagreed on hundreds of things, and we fought, but we worked things out because we loved each other.”
J.J. gave him a confident smile. “You and I disagree on very little.”
“J.J.—” Burton reached out and pulled her down beside him on the sofa “—I know you. You wouldn’t have married Remington if you didn’t love him.”
“But that’s exactly what I did do.” She tried to explain. “Focusing so intently on my studies and then on work, wanting so desperately to succeed, I had no time for the usual dating scene. I was pretty naive. Luke was the first attractive man to come along who didn’t seem intimidated or challenged by my being a lawyer. He could have had any woman at the stock show, and he chose me.” She smiled crookedly. “I thought he admired my mind. I fell pretty hard. Now I know what I felt was physical attraction, not love.”
Burton didn’t look at her. “Tonight, seeing you two together... I don’t think you’ve resolved your first marriage.”
“A divorce will resolve it.”
Burton shook his head. “I’m not so certain of that.” He clasped J.J.’s hands in his. “I want you to accept his invitation to spend three weeks with him.”
“I can’t take off from work for three weeks.”
“I’ll take care of the arrangements. You don’t have any major cases on the calendar right now. I can shift or postpone your other clients and appointments.”
“I’m not going to pander to Luke Remington’s injured ego. He can hire every lawyer in Denver, but he has nothing he can hold over my head.”
“I’m not asking you to go because it would facilitate your divorce, J.J.” Burton’s grip tightened around her hand. “I’m asking because I want you to be sure of what you’re doing.”
“I am sure. I want to marry you, Burton.”
“I don’t want...” He paused, then reworded what he was about to say, “I will not marry a woman who might be in love with another man.” Ignoring her sputtering denial, Burton eyed her steadily. “When you say ‘I do,’ I want both of us to be absolutely, positively certain you’re not in love with Luke Remington.”
