Wife in Disguise

you went through, but I can’t do anything but admire the person you’ve become.”

Josie wanted to believe him. Most of the time she would have, but not now. Not after seeing all those damn pictures. She’d forgotten how perfect she’d been. The suppleness of her movements, the lean strength, the grace. Then she’d raced and danced and dashed. Today she lurched and hobbled and stumbled. So many memories of something that could never be again.

“Don’t,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “Don’t you dare start disappearing into feeling sorry for yourself. I won’t let you. You’ve lived through a trial of fire and you’ve come out a better person on the inside. Don’t wish that away.”

His hands felt warm and powerful. She wanted to ask him to never let go.

“Can’t I have both? My new-and-improved personality along with my old body?”

“I don’t think it works that way.” His dark eyes were intense with emotion and something she might have thought was…desire? No. That was crazy. Del couldn’t want her. Not now. Not like this.

“I was thinner back then,” she said, both as a complaint and a warning.

“Yeah, and I was always worried about being impaled on a hipbone or done in by an elbow. Now you’re curvy in all the right places.”

She swallowed. Could she believe him? She desperately wanted to but she wasn’t sure. “Don’t say things just to be kind,” she said, shifting away from him.

But Del didn’t let her go. Instead he moved closer and bent down to kiss her. The touch of his mouth against hers was almost painful in its tenderness. So light, so perfect. Possession, desire and a promise all blended in the one brief brush of skin on skin.

What was he doing? When he pulled away, she tried to speak and couldn’t. Her throat felt too tight. Her heart was pounding so fast she was afraid it was going to wear itself out.

“Del?”

“If you’re asking me what’s going on, I don’t have a clue. All I know is that I want you.” He touched his fingers to her mouth, preventing her from saying anything. “It’s not pity. It’s real. I want you.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. “I want you in my bed. I want to make love with you.”

She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Was this really happening? Could she believe him? How could she know he wasn’t just feeling sorry for her?

He swore under his breath. “I can see the doubts in your eyes,” he said and reached for her hand. Then he placed it flat against his groin.

She felt the hard ridge of his desire. Something hot and hungry flared to life inside of her. He really did want her. Broken or not, different or not. He wanted her.

And she loved him.

“Say yes,” he requested. “Please say yes.”

She couldn’t have said anything else. He was the man she’d always dreamed of.

“Yes,” she whispered. “As long as we can do it right now.”

Chapter Thirteen

Before Josie knew what was happening, Del swept her up in his arms. Since she’d moved in with him, he’d carried her many times. Mostly from her wheelchair to the sofa, or from her wheelchair to bed. She told herself she should be used to the feel of his arms around her, supporting her. But this time was different. This time she would swear she could feel the heat and desire filling him. This time his hands seemed especially tender where they touched her. This time he murmured her name, then brushed a kiss across her forehead. His actions almost made her grateful that she couldn’t walk like a normal person.

“My room?” he asked, then chuckled low in his throat. “Make that our room?”

She hesitated, then nodded. Their room. She hadn’t allowed herself to go back into that section of the house. Every time she’d been tempted, she’d reminded herself that she was his guest and she owed him his privacy. But she’d wondered if it looked different, if he’d changed the furniture or the bedspread.

He walked toward the wooden double doors. The left one stood ajar. He turned sideways to slip inside, flipping on the light switch as he went, then crossed to the bed and set her on the mattress.

Josie looked around, taking in what was the same and what was different. The furniture-the big king-size bed, the nightstands and the dresser-were all familiar, but the bedspread was new, as were the shutters at the windows. She remembered drapes. He’d pulled up the carpet and had replaced it with a hardwood floor covered with several small scatter rugs. The fireplace in the corner was now brick instead of river rock. The space was a disquieting combination of old and new. She felt she was living through a dream where reality kept changing and shifting until she couldn’t maintain her balance.

Del sat next to her and took her hand in his. “Are you all right? Have you changed your mind?”

She shook her head, then realized he wouldn’t know what she was denying. “I haven’t changed my mind. It’s just…strange to be here.”

“Would you rather make love in the guest room?”

Those two words, make love, made her shiver as desire flared up inside of her. Would the guest room be better? She decided it didn’t matter where they actually became intimate. There were ghosts in every part of this house. And not just the ones from their marriage. Even though she knew it was stupid, she couldn’t help wondering about the women he’d been with since she’d left. How many had there been? How beautiful, how young, how undamaged?

Unexpectedly her eyes began to burn, as if she was close to crying.

Del touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. “What are you thinking?”

She sighed. There wasn’t much point in avoiding the truth. He was going to see it for himself in just a few minutes.

“I saw Jasmine,” she whispered. “There have been others, too, I’m sure. Plus there are the pictures we found. The ones from our honeymoon.”

He frowned. “Josie, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

If she’d been able to, she would have slid off the bed and started pacing. As it was, all she could do was half turn away from him and hunch her shoulders forward.

“My body,” she said flatly. “It’s different. Not just the loss of muscle or the weight gain. I have scars. Some are old, but others are still red and thick. I’ve lost a lot of flexibility. I don’t bend the same. I can’t get in all those crazy positions anymore. Everything is going to be different. I just wanted you to know that.”

Speaking the words made her ache inside. She didn’t like being different and she hated having to tell him about it. She wanted to turn back the clock and be the person she’d been before. Except she liked the emotional lessons she’d learned in the past year. If only she could have gotten the latter without having to be hit by a truck.

He touched her shoulder, urging her to face him again. When she didn’t move, he spoke anyway.

“Do you think I care about scars or the fact that we can’t do it like professional gymnasts?”

There was a long pause, and she realized he expected her to answer. Slowly she shifted until she could look at him. He stared at her-all intensity and fire.

“I don’t know if you do care,” she admitted. “That’s what makes this difficult. Plus, no one has seen me. I mean no one other than a medical professional.”

He smiled. “I promise I won’t run screaming from the room. As for the rest of it, Josie, you matter. All of you. No part is any more important than another, except for your brain. Because that’s who you are. It’s about your insides way more than your outsides. Please believe that.”

“I want to.”

“Then take a chance. I meant what I said before. I think you’re beautiful. Scars and all. As for having to make love differently, I’m not frightened of that. Slow and seductive isn’t a punishment. Besides-” he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear “-we can think of it as a second first time. For us it will be as if we’ve never made love before. How many couples get that kind of second chance?”

He was saying all the right things. She desperately wanted to make love with him, but there was so much fear.