Sunrise Vows Read online

  Derek and Belinda drifted from one cluster of people to the next until they had made the rounds of everyone. Belinda smiled until her teeth ached. Derek kept his arm around her shoulder, his hand caressing her hair as he joked and talked to their friends.

  She wondered if he had any idea what his simple touch did to her, how it quickened her pulse, weakened her knees, made her blood course hotly through her veins. When she could stand it no longer, she excused herself and went to the kitchen for a soda.

  Grateful to find nobody else in the kitchen, she took a moment to lean against the counter and clear her head. Derek had thrown her thoughts and body into chaos with that kiss at the front door.

  She could almost hate him for it. She could almost hate him for being able to pretend so easily. The fact that he could kiss her, touch her, gaze at her with his soulful brown eyes and not feel a thing for her made her both angry and sad.

  What really worried her was that she recognized a small part of her that wanted his touch, wanted his kiss. There was a small part of her that still carried a remnant of love, although it was a part of herself she intended to suffocate, not nurture.

  “Aren’t you a sly one.”

  Belinda turned to see Janice as she walked into the kitchen. She gave Belinda a warm hug, then stepped back and shook her head. “Is your best friend always the last to know what’s going on in your life?”

  “I would have told you, but it all happened so fast,” Belinda replied. She wanted to tell Janice the truth, that the entire marriage was a sham and that it was just a matter of time before it was over. But she knew if she did tell Janice, it wouldn’t be long before all of Cheyenne knew. Janice was her best friend, but she was also a shameless gossip.

  “I guess Derek knows how to be persuasive,” Janice continued.

  “Yes, very persuasive.” Belinda felt a flush warm her cheeks. She hated playing this game, lying to her friends and family. But for them to know the truththat she sold her soul to save the ranch-would be worse.

  “Enough about me,” she went on. “Derek and I are old news now. Tell me what’s going on with you. I saw you were with Roger.”

  Janice nodded with a self-satisfied smile. “We’ve been seeing each other every night since he got back from his trip. The man is crazy about me.”

  Belinda laughed. “So, will we be having another wedding soon?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. It’s too early for that. Roger and I are still getting to know each other. You know, sharing secret dreams and exploring possibilities.” Janice smiled. “It’s amazing how much Roger and I have in common. I never, in my life, dreamed I’d meet a man like him.”

  Belinda gave her a quick hug. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Ah, there you are,” Abby said as she came into the kitchen. She smiled a greeting at Janice, then looked at her sister. “You’ve got a tableful of gifts out there, and everyone is demanding you open them now. Colette is ready to record them as you and Derek unwrap them. Come on, everyone is waiting.”

  Together the three women left the kitchen and minutes later Belinda and Derek began opening their wedding gifts. Silver platters and trays, a set of delicate wineglasses, bulky bath towels and pretty sheet sets. The traditional gifts were interspersed by gag gifts that kept the guests alternating between aahs of appreciation and hoots of laughter.

  “Let them cut the cake,” somebody shouted when the gifts had all been unwrapped.

  “Yeah, cut the cake,” another echoed.

  Abby laughed and turned to Belinda and Derek. “You hear them. Wait right here and I’ll be back with the cake.” She disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later carrying a two-tier wedding cake complete with bride and groom figurines atop the white concoction.

  “Oh, Abby, it’s beautiful,” Belinda exclaimed as her sister set the cake on the folding table that had held the gifts. “But you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”

  “There’s no such thing as too much trouble when it comes to my sisters,” Abby replied.

  Tears welled up in Belinda’s eyes. Tears of love, tears of shame, tears of guilt. She hoped Abby and Colette never found out the real reason she’d married Derek.

  “Let’s get a few pictures before you cut the cake,” Colette said as she handed Belinda a beribboned cake cutter. “Derek, move in next to her…you know what I want.”

  Derek nodded and stepped close to Belinda. As she poised the knife across the top of the cake, he covered her hand with his. Cameras flashed and whirred as Abby and Colette captured the traditional wedding moments on film.

  When the pictures were taken, Belinda cut a piece of cake and picked it up in her fingers to feed to Derek. The crowd coaxed her on, urging her to shove it in his face. She forced a laugh and shook her head. She just wanted the ritual over and done.

  She held the cake to Derek’s mouth. Delicately, he took a bite, but as she started to pull her hand away, he captured it with his and brought it back to his mouth. Slowly, sensually, he licked her fingers, then drew her index finger into his mouth to suck off the last of the sticky icing.

  Belinda felt as if she were suffocating. The feel of his mouth around her finger caused a visceral pull deep within her. The people surrounding them seemed to fade away, and in that moment she knew she wanted Derek.

  She breathed a shuddery sigh as he released her fingers, but tensed again as he picked up a piece of cake and directed it toward her lips. There was something primal, something almost savage yet symbiotic in the ritual of bride and groom feeding each other.

  Derek’s eyes blazed into hers as he guided the cake closer and closer to her mouth. She saw the sudden twinkle in their brown depths, the tiny smile that lit his features just before he smooshed the cake into her mouth, smearing it across one cheek.

  She gasped and caught her breath as everyone laughed and clapped. Derek pulled her into his arms, his laughter ringing sweet in her ears. “I couldn’t help myself,” he said. To the crowd’s delight, he licked her cheek and again desire winged through her, rich and vibrant.

  Grateful when he released her, she grabbed a napkin and cleaned the last of the cake off her face, then busied herself helping Abby and Colette serve all the guests.

  When everyone was served and there was a lull in the party, Belinda slipped back into the kitchen and out the back door, needing a few minutes alone to clear her thoughts.

  Crisp and clean, the night air held the scent of approaching winter. Cold, snowy days, and frigid, lonely nights. The prospect of being cooped up in the -house with Derek during the long winter months was daunting.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped off the back porch. The light from the near half moon spilled down to paint the land in a surreal silvery glow.

  Warmth spread through her as she gazed at the familiar terrain. She remembered her father walking with his three daughters, his eyes glowing with pride as he surveyed his little kingdom. “My very own piece of heaven,” he said, then smiled at each of them. “And I’ve got my own three little angels to prove it.”

  It didn’t matter whether Belinda had been adopted or not, she’d never doubted his love for her and her sisters.

  How he’d loved the land, and how he’d loved them. Belinda felt a soothing peace sweep over her as she realized her marriage to Derek had saved her father’s dreams. The land would continue to be Connor land, passed from generation to generation.

  She would survive this year of marriage to Derek. She’d do it for the father and mother who’d raised and loved her, for her sisters and their children.

  All she had to do was figure out how to live with Derek, spend time with Derek and not want him. A deep heat swept over her as she thought of the kiss they’d shared, of the sensation of his tongue against her finger, against her cheek. He was wicked, positively wicked to do such a thing.

  It has nothing to do with love, she told herself firmly. Lust. That’s all it was, pure and simple, uncomplicated and base.

&n
bsp; “Belinda.” A voice called to her from the side of the porch.

  “Who’s there?” Belinda asked, the voice too faint for her to identify. “Derek, is that you?”

  She stepped around the corner into the dark pool of shadows. She gasped as something dark and cool came down over her head. What was happening? What?

  Plastic. It smothered her as she breathed in with panic. At the same time hands closed around her neck, squeezing painfully against her throat.

  She pulled at the hands, at the same time kicking her feet in sheer terror. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t…breathe…

  A choking, gurgling sound filled her head and she realized the noise came from her. She was listening to the sounds of her own death.

  Tighter. Harder. The hands squeezed, cutting off all air and constricting her blood flow. She knew she should fight. But couldn’t. Pinpoints of light exploded in front of her eyes as her knees buckled. A creeping numbness swept through her and she descended into the blackness of oblivion.

  Chapter Eleven

  Derek saw Belinda escape into the kitchen. As minutes passed and she didn’t return to the party, he decided to go looking for her.

  The kitchen was empty, but the back door stood ajar, letting him know she must have stepped outside for some fresh air. He could use a little himself. The house was uncomfortably warm with the press of people.

  He walked out onto the back porch. “Belinda, are you out here?” he called. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness. The night was still, and he leaned against the railing, allowing the cool night air to blow gentle, refreshing fingers against his face.

  It was obvious Belinda wasn’t out here. Nobody was. She must be back in the living room and somehow he’d just missed seeing her. He turned to go back inside. Before he could reach the door, a faint noise made him pause.

  He cocked his head, listening for the sound to be repeated. A minute passed. Two minutes. Then he heard it again. A soft moan.

  His heart stopped. Blood rushed to his head as he jumped off the porch to investigate exactly what—or who—was making the noise.

  He nearly tripped over her, so deep were the shadows that engulfed her. She lay unmoving, her head wrapped in something dark. “Belinda,” her name choked out of him as he crouched beside her.

  Plastic. Her head was covered in plastic. His fingers tore through what he instantly recognized as a garbage bag, freeing her face from its confines.

  Her eyes snapped open and she flailed wildly, kicking her feet and swinging her arms to ward him off. Pitiful, terror-filled whimpers escaped her and he realized she wasn’t seeing him, but was still fighting whoever had attacked her in the first place.

  “Belinda. Belinda.” He called her name sharply and watched with relief as her eyes finally focused on him.

  She stopped her fighting and instead embraced him around the neck and buried her face in the front of his shirt. “Derek…he tried to kill me.” The words came from her amid coughing and choking.

  “Who? Who was it?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see.”

  He scooped her up into his arms, wanting to get her inside to the warmth, into the light where he could assure himself she was all right.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he started up the steps to the porch.

  “Taking you inside.”

  “No!” She stiffened in protest. “No, please, let’s just go home.”

  Near hysteria made her voice more high-pitched than usual and Derek realized she was on the verge of shock. “Belinda, we can’t just disappear from the party.”

  “Yes, we can.” Her arms tightened around his neck and she pressed herself closer against his chest. “We can just leave. We’re newlyweds. Nobody will think it odd. Don’t ruin things for Abby and Colette. Please, just take me home.”

  Her eyes were wide and her body shivered uncontrollably as she clung to him. Making up his mind, Derek carried her to his car and gently placed her inside. Junior hadn’t been at the party because he’d been on duty. When they got back to Derek’s house, he’d call the sheriff and Junior could take things from there.

  It wasn’t until they got back to Derek’s and he’d turned on the living room lights, that he saw the extent of her injuries. Red and swollen, her neck was circled with angry marks beginning to bruise.

  Rage swept through Derek. Rage that somebody had harmed what was his. Rage at himself for being stupid enough to let down his guard.

  “Now tell me exactly what happened,” he said as he sat next to her on the sofa.

  She went through everything step by step, from the moment she’d walked out onto the porch to when Derek had found her slumped on the ground. As Derek heard the hoarseness of her voice, saw the abject fear that still darkened her eyes, his anger only increased.

  “And you didn’t recognize the voice?” he asked when she’d finished.

  She shook her head, wincing as she brought a hand up to touch her throat. “No, and the bag came down over my head before I got a chance to see anyone.” She closed her eyes, a hiccuping sob escaping from her lips. She looked at Derek once again. “All I know is that it was a man. The hands were too big, too strong, to be a woman’s.” Again a sob slipped from her lips. “Why is this happening, Derek? Why is this happening to me?”

  He stroked the long silkiness of her hair in an effort to comfort her. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

  “Thank God you came out when you did. I—I think if you hadn’t, I’d be dead.”

  “Shh, you’re safe now.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tight, felt the frantic pounding of her heart against his chest. Tenderness swept through him, protectiveness overwhelmed him. He wanted to swallow her whole, keep her inside him where she’d be safe until they figured out what monster was after her.

  Reluctantly he released her and walked over to the telephone. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “We need to get Junior out here to talk to you.” He picked up the receiver.

  “No, Derek…please don’t” She struggled to a sitting position. “I can’t go through all the questions another time. And I don’t know anything to help.” Tears sparkled on the ends of her lashes, like diamonds framing her sapphire eyes. “I just want to take a bath and go to bed Please.”

  He hesitated, then replaced the receiver in the cradle. She was right. There was little she could tell Junior that would help him catch the perpetrator and he had the feeling if pushed too hard, she’d break down all together.

  “I’ll go up and run a bath for you,” he said. “Then while you’re relaxing in the tub, I’ll make us some hot tea, okay?”

  She nodded and Derek went upstairs. Although since moving in the week before, Belinda had been. using the guest bathroom, Derek ran a tubful of water in the Jacuzzi in the master bedroom. In here, the tub was deeper, larger and would be more comfortable for her.

  It took him only minutes to fill the tub and add a splash of frothy bubbles. When it was ready, he went back downstairs, picked her up in his arms and carried her to where the bath awaited.

  “I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen,” he said. “When you’re finished, come on down.” She nodded and he left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Downstairs in the kitchen, Derek filled a teakettle with water and put it on to boil. From the drawer, he pulled out the list of suspects he and Belinda had been working on, then carried it to the table and sat.

  He worked a hand through his hair in frustration as he thought of this latest attack. Dammit, he’d allowed his vigilance to wane. He should have kept her by his side every moment they’d been at the party.

  But he’d believed they were safe, surrounded by friends and family. And now he knew for certan—one of their friends, somebody they trusted, wanted Belinda dead.

  Why? The succinct word echoed in his head. Rarely was a crime committed without motive. What reason could anyone possibly possess to want Belind
a dead?

  And why, why did he know in his gut that it revolved around him, around the fire that had nearly killed him? Was it possible that somebody wanted to destroy him? What better way than to murder the woman he’d married?

  He jumped as the teakettle whistled, sounding disturbingly like a high-pitched scream. He moved the kettle off the burner, then blew out a sigh of frustration. Although he’d agreed for Belinda’s sake not to call Junior, he owed Abby and Colette a quick call to explain their mysterious absence.

  Abby answered the call, and it was obvious from the noise that emanated in the background that the party was still going strong. “Abby, it’s Derek.”

  “Hey, where’d you guys disappear to?”

  “Belinda was getting tired and we decided to sneak out and come home.”

  Abby laughed. “Sure, I’ve heard that ‘tired’ excuse before. Did she have a good time?”

  “I’m sure she’ll never forget it,” Derek said truthfully. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you a quick call and tell you thanks, and please thank everyone who came.”

  “Derek, I’m just so happy for both of you. It’s so wonderful that you found each other again after all these years.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Now go,” she exclaimed. “Go act like a newlywed and tell Belinda I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

  Go act like a newlywed. Abby’s words rang in his ears as he said goodbye and hung up. There was nothing he’d like to do more than act like a newlywed.

  From the moment Belinda had moved into the house as his wife, he’d been fighting his desire for her. She’d not only moved her clothes into the spare; bedroom, but somehow had’ managed to imbibe the entire house with her presence.

  He smelled her perfume when he awakened in the mornings, went to bed at night with dreams of her filling his head. He’d thought it would be easy, to have her in his home, share his life with her for however long was necessary, and not feel any hunger, any passion for her that he couldn’t control.