She Woke Up Married by Suzanne Macpherson Page A

beautiful in her black velvet, with her red hair flaming, and her angry green eyes drilling holes in him. For a minute Turner wanted to take her in his arms and make the world go away just for her. Okay, for him too.
    The kettle started to scream. Turner set tea bags in the cups and poured boiling water over them.
    “I bought you green tea with ginger today. It tastes best if you let it steep for three minutes. It might help your nausea.”
    “Just spit it out, Turner. Cut the tea talk, and spit it out.”
    These bags were’t going to get their three minutes. He took them out, set them on the plate he’d layed out, and looked straight at Paris. Eye contact.
    “I want to see you through this all the way, Paris. I don’t want you to fly to Switzerland. I want to experience this time. That is my child you are carrying, too. I respect your feelings, but I have different feelings.” He leaned forward.
    “I am willing to keep the child, with or without you. If you truly feel you can’t be a mother to this baby, that is what you feel. I, however, am completely willing to be a father. I embrace being a father. I am excited about being a father! I was just as excited about being a husband to you, Paris. And whether you believe it or not, I am legally…and spiritually…your husband.” His voice was strong with his conviction.
    Paris looked stunned. She didn’t have a snappy comeback. She stood perfectly still, as if she’d been hit with an unexpected spotlight on an unexpected stage.
    Then Turner did what he’d wanted to do for days. He strode over to Paris and broke down the barriers she’d put up. He took her in his arms.
    She didn’t melt, but she didn’t push him away. He tipped up her chin with his hand and kissed her pretty, stunned lips. It was a good kiss. The kind of kiss you get before anyone starts thinking about it. He kissed her deeper and ran his hand into her beautiful red hair. She let out a minute sound of pleasure.
    Then she must have started thinking. Then she pushed him away.
    “I don’t care if some paper says you are my husband. I’m not your wife.”
    He stood in front of her. She wasn’t going to run away this time. “ Yes , you are. And you aren’t going to Switzerland. You’re going to come with me to Las Vegas, and I’m going to see you through this pregnancy, and then I’m going to welcome my child into my life. You are free to leave or stay at that point. If at any point you actually decide to be my wife, let me know, won’t you?”
    “Oh the great, patient Turner finally cracks.” She put her hands on her hips.
    “I don’t care if I have to handcuff us together to get you on a plane. You are coming back with me.”
    Paris looked amused. He was slightly amused himself. As if he’d ever actually do that. Although he might.
    “I don’t think that will be necessary.” Paris gave him an odd smile. “To tell you the truth, it’s not a bad idea. I will come back to Las Vegas with you. After all, I’m using this marriage as an excuse, why not take it all the way? And you are right. Why should I go through all this alone? You got me pregnant, and if you want this baby, who am I to say you can’t have it? Maybe we can talk more about that, because it would be better from my viewpoint if a settled couple adopted it, but I’m willing to hear you out.”
    Turner was completely shocked at her reaction, but he sure wasn’t going to question it. “Now you’re making some sense,” Turner said. He turned back into the kitchen, picked up the cups, and brought them to the table. “Come and drink this tea. We’ll plan this out and get your place packed up and settled.”
    Paris, much to Turner’s surprise, had turned the tables on him. She came and sat next to him pretty as you please. He wasn’t fooled a bit, though; she had ulterior motives. He could see her brain working on twists and turns and devious Paris pathways.
    When would she ever just surrender to some kind of peace?