Honor Bound(46)

Willard came as close as Aislinn had ever seen him to losing his temper, but he held it in check and said tightly, "If you have anything, anything, to do with this man, you'll get nothing more from me."

"I never asked anything of you, Father." Tears were stinging her eyes, but she held her head up proudly. "I paid back your investment in the photography studio, which I didn't want in the first place. I don't owe you for anything, not even for a happy childhood. You said a moment ago that I had always bucked the system, but that isn't true. I always wanted to, but you always dissuaded me. I bowed to your wishes in every major decision of my life. Until now. If you and Mother can't accept the fact that Tony is your grandson, then I can't hold a place in your lives either."

They weathered her ultimatum with the same cool control they had every sad crisis and joyous occasion of their lives. Without a word, Willard took his wife's arm and steered her toward the door. Eleanor paused only long enough to pick up her tennis racquet before they left. They never looked back.

Aislinn's head dropped forward. The tears, which had been threatening for the past several heart-wrenching minutes, slowly slid from under her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks. Her parents wanted to dominate her life completely or have no part in it at all. She couldn't believe that they could be so resolute in their prejudice as to refuse to acknowledge their own grandson. She bitterly regretted their decision.

On the other hand, if they were that narrow-minded and unbending, she and Tony were better off without them. She wanted her son to be unashamed of the emotions he experienced. She wanted him to grow up having the freedom to express himself in a way she had never been allowed to. She wanted him to feel things intensely, as she had with…

Aislinn spun around and looked at the man standing so still and silent behind her. Her thoughts had inevitably brought her to those days she had spent as a captive of Lucas Greywolf. Then for the first time, life had been unpredictable. She dearly recalled the rushes of excitement, of joy and sadness. That brief period of time hadn't been romanticized in her mind, as she had later thought it had been. It hadn't all been wonderful. Far from it. But it had been real. She had never felt so alive as during those turbulent hours.

"What are you going to do?" Lucas asked her.

"Do you still want me to marry you?"

"For our son's sake, yes."

"Will you be a good, loving father to Tony?"

"I swear it."

It was the hardest thing she had ever had to ask another person, but she met his pale gray eyes steadily. "And to me? What kind of husband can I expect you to be?"

"You are the mother of my son. I'll treat you with the respect that deserves."

"You have frightened me on numerous occasions. I don't want to live in fear of you."

"I would never harm you. I swear it on the body of my grandfather, Joseph Greywolf."

What a bizarre proposal, Aislinn thought. Like most women, she had imagined candlelight and roses, wine and soft music, a full moon and professions of undying love. She smiled weakly and with self-derision. Oh, well, one couldn't have it all.

She had just closed the door on everything that was safe and familiar. There would be no going back. And besides, Lucas wasn't going to give up his son. He had made that perfectly clear.

It would be a loveless marriage, save for their common love for Tony. There was no love in her life now anyway, so it wouldn't be missed. Life with Lucas and Tony wouldn't be just an endless series of days, made monotonous by their sameness. It would at least hold some surprises.

Her eyes were steadfast as she looked up at him. Without further hesitation she said, "All right, Lucas Greywolf. I'll marry you."

* * *

She did, two days later at nine o'clock in the morning in a civil ceremony in the same courthouse where Lucas Greywolf had been found guilty of his alleged crimes almost four years before.

The bride held her baby on her shoulder as she recited the vows that legally bound her to a man who was little more than a stranger. She hadn't known what would be suitable to wear, but had finally decided on a peach-colored linen suit with a pleated skirt and unstructured jacket. Beneath the jacket was an ivory lawn shell so sheer that her lacy camisole showed through. The outfit was soft and feminine without being flagrantly bridal.

She held one side of her hair back with an ivory comb, an antique bequeathed her by her paternal grandmother. That was her "something old." She had chosen blue panties, not wanting to thumb her nose at tradition altogether.

Lucas had surprised her by wearing dark slacks and a sport coat over a pale-blue dress shirt and a sedate necktie. He looked incredibly handsome with his long, dark hair brushed away from his face and lying against his collar. Side by side, she knew they made a striking couple. Heads had turned to look at them when they entered the courthouse.

Before she even realized that the vows had been solemnized, the ceremony was over and they were leaving the building. Lucas had given her a light, perfunctory kiss when the judge had pronounced them man and wife. Now his hand rode loosely beneath her elbow as he guided her toward his parked pickup truck. It was at least a decade old. "We'll go load up the things you've packed, then get on our way."

He had told her the day before that he wanted to have the ceremony—though the few minutes they had spent in the judge's chambers hardly qualified as such—early, so they could reach their destination before nightfall. He wanted to waste no more time getting back to the reservation.