Carrera's Bride Read online

  The wedding was incredible. News media from two continents showed up with satellite trucks and reporters. Print media sent reporters with cameras and tape recorders. Limousines came to town bearing men in dark suits, two groups of which seemed to line up to glare across the pews at each other. Another pew was populated by rough-looking men who kept watching the men in the dark suits. Lawmen covered one, including police chief Cash Grier and his wife, Tippy, along with assistant chief Judd Dunn and his wife Christabel, former Texas Ranger Marc Brannon with his wife Josette Brannon, Jacobsville police officers Palmer and Barrett and their wives, and Sheriff Hayes Carson. Another group of local mercenaries and their wives covered a separate pew—Dr. Micah Steele and his wife Callie, Eb and Sally Scott, Cy and Lisa Parks—with Harley Fowler who wasn’t married. All five Hart brothers, Justin and Calhoun Ballenger, the Tremayne brothers attended, with all their wives, and so did the doctors Coltrain and Dr. Morris and his wife. Tom Walker and his wife showed up with Ted Regan and his wife, the Donavans, the Langleys and even the attorney, Blake Kemp with his secretary Violet. Any of the local gentry who didn’t attend simply weren’t in town at the time. It was an event, with a capital “E.”

  There were some unexpected guests, too, including a man named Tate Winthrop from Washington, D.C., with his wife, Cecily. He worked in personal security, or so Marcus told Delia, and Marcus had done him a favor to help keep Cecily of danger.

  Delia also noticed some well-known national politicians, two movie stars, three or four singers and a whole rock band of the notorious type. She couldn’t say that Marcus wasn’t gregarious, in his way. He certainly had a duke’s mixture of friends and acquaintances.

  But the one person Delia noticed most was Barb, standing at her side at the altar, having served as her matron of honor. Mr. Smith had flown up just for the day and he was serving as best man for Marcus.

  The church leader, an elderly man with a contagious smile, performed the service with dignity and affection, and at the end, where they exchanged rings and kissed each other tenderly, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

  Later, at the reception, Delia’s gown was the center of attention.

  “You can tell it’s from Paris,” Barb remarked, hugging Delia warmly. She’d been ecstatic ever since the announcement in the newspapers when she and Barney were listed for the first time as Delia’s parents. It had stirred quite a lot of local gossip, but the nicest possible kind.

  “It’s just beautiful,” Violet Hardy sighed, smiling at Delia. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever get to wear anything like that,” she added. Violet was just a little overweight, although she had a beautiful face. She worked for local attorney Blake Kemp, who’d brought her to the wedding, to everyone’s surprise. Kemp’s aversion to women was well known.

  “You never know, Violet,” Delia whispered with a speaking glance at Blake Kemp, who was speaking to Cy Parks. Violet actually giggled.

  The local people who didn’t go to the wedding were waiting outside at the end of the reception, as the couple left in a shower of rice and good wishes.

  The limo driver, long-suffering but a good sport, stood dignified and silent beside his elegant vehicle, which was now covered with soaped well wishes, ribbons and bows, with a string of cans, shoes and ribbons dangling from the rear bumper.

  “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Carrera,” he said with a smile, and opened the door for them with a flourish.

  “Thanks,” they echoed, diving inside under another barrage of rice.

  They waved at the crowd one last time before the door closed.

  The next morning, they were cuddled together like spoons, in a king-sized bed in a luxurious beach house in St. Martin. It had been a long, passionate wedding night and they’d slept late. Marcus had woken first and called room service to send up breakfast. Then he’d curled Delia into his body and dozed until it arrived.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Marcus kissed his wife awake warmly and threw on a terry cloth robe so that he could answer the door, while she stayed in bed behind a closed door.

  It was room service, with breakfast. Marcus let the waiter in, with his cart, and directed him where to leave it. He gave the smiling waiter a big tip and saw him out. Before he went to get Delia, he lifted the lids from the dishes and took a deep breath of the delicious scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast.

  He went back into the bedroom, tugged the cover from Delia’s pretty nude body, bent and kissed her breasts with breathless tenderness.

  “I don’t want to stop, but we need to eat something,” he whispered, pulling her gently to her feet. “For my part, I’d keep you like this,” he added, smiling.

  “We’d never be able to go out and see the sights,” she laughed.

  He kissed her. “Spoilsport. Who wants to see other sights when these are so perfect?” he asked. “Come on. We’ve got food. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!”

  “Where’s my gown?”

  He slid it over her head. “Waste of time to put it on, baby,” he told her with a grin. “It’s coming right back off after breakfast.”

  She tucked her hand into his and let him lead her to the table. But an unexpected thing happened when she smelled the scrambled eggs.

  She barely made it to the bathroom in time. He was right behind her, wetting a cloth to bathe her face when she could get up. He helped her wash out her mouth so tenderly that she could have bawled, then he picked her up, cuddling her like a small, frightened child, and carried her right back to bed.

  He put her against the pillows with breathless care. “Oh, baby,” he said softly, “I never dreamed we’d do it this quick!”

  She met his eyes and managed a watery laugh. “Me, neither,” she replied. “Marcus, I think I’m pregnant!”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, smiling from ear to ear. “Doesn’t it look like it, though?”

  She drew him down to her and kissed him until her mouth hurt.

  “Now we’ve got a real dilemma,” he whispered.

  “Hmm?”

  He grinned against her lips. “Who do we call first?”

  “My parents!”

  “Mr. Smith will be ticked,” he said. “And he’s the best babysitter we’ll ever find. He was with Kip Tennison’s little boy from birth.”

  She beamed. “What a lovely thought!”

  “I’ve got it,” he said. “You call Barb and Barney on the room phone.” He went to the dresser and picked up his cell phone. “I’ll phone Smith with my cell phone!” He stuck it in his robe. “But, first, we have breakfast. I’ll bring you a nice glass of milk and some toast. You can have breakfast in bed!”

  She sighed and smiled up at him with love glowing from her eyes. “You are going to be the nicest husband and best daddy in the whole world,” she said with heartfelt conviction.

  And he was.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-1632-1

  CARRERA’S BRIDE

  Copyright © 2004 by Diana Palmer

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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