She nodded and took another slice of pizza from the box. It was her third, and she’d devoured the previous two without a single additional complaint about the lack of artichoke hearts.
“Why didn’t you leave me at the bar with Clint?” Riane asked, after the last of the pizza had been consumed and the empty box tossed aside.
“Because I didn’t want to be responsible for you doing something I knew you’d regret.”
“No one’s responsible for me but me,” she told him.
“You weren’t yourself, sweetheart.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Yes,” he insisted. “I do. I know the kind of person you are, and I know it’s not a habit of yours to go home with men you meet at bars.”
“Is this something your investigation revealed?”
“No.” He might have dug deeper into her background, he realized, except that he’d felt guilty for intruding as much as he already had. He wanted to know so much about her, but he wanted her to share the information. “I just know it’s not you.”
She laughed, bitterly. “How can you know the kind of person I am? I don’t even know who I am.”
“Finding out that your mother didn’t give birth to you doesn’t change the basic facts of who you are.”
“It changes everything,” she insisted. “Everything I’ve believed for more than twenty years has been a lie. I’m a fiction—a child they created. They even changed my date of birth.”
“Why?” Joel was still puzzled by that bit of information.
“My mother said it was because they wanted to celebrate the day I came to them.” Riane didn’t sound convinced.
“You don’t believe her?”
Riane shrugged. “She seems to have a ready answer for everything. How am I supposed to know what’s fact and what’s fantasy?”
“I’m not going to pretend I agree with, or even understand, what your parents did,” Joel said. “But after talking to your mother today, the one thing I am sure of is that she loves you.”
Riane shrugged again, but he noticed the sheen of tears in her eyes. “We’ve always been close. We never went through the usual mother-daughter difficulties. She’s always been unquestioningly supportive, unfailingly understanding.”
“Because she loves you,” Joel said again.
“If she really loved me, how could she lie to me?”
“She told you the truth now,” Joel pointed out. “Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Maybe she just knew she couldn’t keep it a secret much longer.”
“Do you really think that’s what prompted her confession?”
Riane sighed. “No,” she admitted. “I think she’s genuinely sorry about what happened. The way it happened. But I don’t know. I’m not sure I can trust my own feelings about any of this.”
“It’s going to take some time to get used to,” Joel agreed.
“I have a sister I know nothing about,” she said, speaking almost to herself. “Someone who apparently cared enough about me to want to find me all these years later, and I don’t even remember her. What does that say about me?”
“It doesn’t say anything about you. You weren’t even two years old when you were adopted.”
“But shouldn’t I have known? Shouldn’t I have remembered something about the family I’d left behind?”
“You were a child,” Joel said again. “You can’t take responsibility for everything upon yourself.”
Riane wanted to believe what Joel said was true. Logically, she knew that most people didn’t have memories of anything prior to the age of five. But in her heart she felt as if she’d let her sister down by forgetting her. Especially when her sister obviously hadn’t forgotten Riane.
She rubbed her fingers against her temple, trying to assuage the throbbing ache as she contemplated the complete upheaval of the past several hours. It was hard to believe that she’d only picked her parents up from the airport that morning. She felt as if she’d lived a lifetime in the interim.
Her parents. Ryan and Ellen. She knew they were probably worried about her, but she couldn’t deal with them just yet. She didn’t know what to say to them; she didn’t know how any of them would handle the disclosures that had been made today. But she did know that if the truth about her parentage ever came to light, if the public ever found out that her mother had sworn false affidavits regarding Riane’s birth, Ellen’s political career would be over.
Somehow, thinking of her mother’s political career brought to mind her own ambitions. And reminded her that the fairy-tale life she’d once envisioned with Stuart was no longer an option. It didn’t matter that she’d already decided she couldn’t marry him. Her concerns about their partnership were irrelevant now. There was no way Stuart would marry her with the lies of her past ticking like a time bomb, liable to blow up in all their faces at any moment. The truth hit her with the force of a prizefighter’s blow. She was alone.
“Riane?”
She started when Joel’s hand came down on her shoulder. She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts, her own misery, that she’d forgotten for a moment that he was there. And she needed him now, she needed the comfort of his presence more than she’d needed anything else in her life.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand dropping off her shoulder to gently stroke her bare arm. The physical contact banished all other thoughts from her mind, and she turned her head to look at him. She could see the concern in his eyes. Concern…and something else she wasn’t sure she recognized. Awareness, maybe. Desire.
Acting purely on instinct, she breached the scant distance that separated them and touched her lips to his. She couldn’t have said which of them was more surprised by the boldness of her action. She’d never initiated a kiss with Joel before—she’d always let him take the lead, as if doing so absolved her of responsibility. Because she’d been afraid.
The realization almost made her pull away. She was afraid of so many things: the emptiness inside her, the uncertainty of her future, the desires she’d never felt before she met Joel. And she was especially afraid that he’d walk out of her life tomorrow and she’d never know what it was like to make love with him.
It was that fear which bolstered her courage. She stroked her tongue over the seam of his lips, slipped inside the warmth of his mouth. He tasted spicy and hot, dangerously tempting.
She heard a low groan rumble in his throat, then she was on her back on the bed, Joel sprawled on top of her. He took control now, his kiss neither coaxing nor gentle this time. Instead he was insistent, demanding. Riane wrapped her arms around him and responded with a passion she hadn’t known she possessed.
His hand inched upward along her thigh, his fingers burning a path against her skin.
She felt his hand slip under the edge of her camisole, glide over the skin of her abdomen. Then his hand was on her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple. She arched toward him, her hips rising off the mattress, her pelvis moving against his.
She heard him groan, felt the insistent thrust of his erection against the soft cleft between her thighs, and heat flooded her body. His mouth trailed hot, hungry kisses down her throat. She had never been kissed like this before. She’d never felt so desperately wanted, so desperately needed. She’d never wanted so much that she actually ached inside.
Then his mouth was on her breast, through the silky fabric of her top. His teeth grazed the nipple, sending sharp, hot currents to the very center of her being.
“Oh, Joel, please.”
He pushed up her top, eliminating the barrier, and covered her breast with his mouth again. Riane couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. She was assaulted by sensations. Overwhelmed. Out of control. And yet, she wasn’t afraid, because it was Joel.
She tugged his shirt out of his pants, wanting to touch him, taste him, explore. She ran her hands eagerly over the taut muscles of his abdomen, the wide, hard planes of his chest, the strong breadth of his shoulders. His skin w
as hot and damp. She pressed her lips to his shoulder, let her tongue savor the salty warmth of his skin. His low groan of pleasure encouraged her, and she skimmed her lips along the curve of his collarbone, nibbled at the base of his throat.
She let her hands skim down his torso, over the bulge at the front of his jeans. He groaned again. She stroked him through the denim, felt the pulsing response of his erection even through the fabric. She fumbled with the button of his jeans, slid her hand beneath the waistband of his briefs and wrapped her fingers around the hard length of him.
Joel groaned and removed her hand. He rolled onto his back, away from her, his breathing shallow and labored.
It wasn’t quite the reaction Riane had hoped for.
She sat up, stunned and aching from his sudden withdrawal. “What’s wrong?”
“We can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” he echoed, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“I can think of a hundred reasons.”
She straightened the front of her camisole, stung by his rejection, then pushed herself off the bed and walked over to the window. Tears burned her eyes, but she held them back. She wouldn’t let him see her cry.
She jolted when his hands settled on her shoulders, hated that she had to fight the urge to lean into him as he stroked down her arms. How could she want him still? Was she so pathetically needy that she would turn to this man again, after he’d already turned her away?
“Your whole life has been turned upside down today,” he said gently. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Thanks for your input,” she said shortly. “But I’ve been making my own decisions for a while now.”
“I don’t want to be something you’ll regret.”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Don’t worry about it, Logan.”
“I care about you, Riane.”
“Is that supposed to let me down easily?”
“You’re completely misreading this situation.”
“I don’t think so.”
He turned her to face him, his expression guarded and somehow dangerous. “Do you think I don’t want you?”
“I’d think that’s pretty obvious.”
He hauled her into his arms again, banded his arms around her and covered her lips in a kiss that screamed of anger and frustration. This time she didn’t question the desire. She couldn’t. It was strong and fierce and all consuming.
But as quickly as he’d pulled her into his arms, he pushed her away. “I want you, Riane, but I don’t want it to be like this.”
Before she could respond, he was out the door.
And she was alone again.
Chapter 11
S he was working at the café. It was exactly where he’d been told she’d be, and he was relieved that his information was accurate. Relieved to see that his wife was okay. And distressed to see her like this. Her beautiful long, dark hair chopped off. Her face pale and bare of makeup. Her slender figure clad in a short black skirt and a low-cut shirt. Serving meals. Cleaning dishes. Flirting with men who were looking down her top.
He felt the rage stir inside him.
Wantonness. Lust. Infidelity. He added to the list of sins for which she would have to atone.
Soon.
For now it was enough to watch. To know that she knew he was watching. And she did. In her heart, in her soul, she knew.
They were linked, after all. Inextricably bound by vows spoken in front of God. Vows that no package of papers delivered by a process server could eradicate.
She turned suddenly toward the window. Her dark eyes wide, searching. She didn’t see him. And she wouldn’t recognize him if she did. Still, the coffeepot trembled in her hand.
His lips curved in a satisfied smile as he turned away.
She knew she was being watched.
For now that was enough.
Two days had passed since Riane had found out about her adoption. Two long days in which an uneasy tension had hovered over the Quinlan household like a storm cloud. Her relationship with her parents was strained. Maybe that was understandable, considering recent revelations, but it was unusual.
Would things ever return to the sense of normalcy that had existed before? Or would their family forever be tainted by the lies of the past? Riane had no answers to these questions and no one with whom to share her thoughts and her feelings. No one she could trust with such a secret.
She might have talked to Joel about the situation, but he’d hightailed it back to Pennsylvania after the night they’d spent in the motel. Or the night she’d spent in the motel. She still didn’t know where, or even if, Joel had slept that night, and the short trip from the motel back to her home the following morning had been difficult, the unresolved sexual tension straining through the veneer of polite conversation.
She still blamed him for the upheaval in her life, but she missed him, anyway. He was the one person who knew the truth about her, the one person who hadn’t seemed to care that she wasn’t who she’d always believed herself to be.
Not knowing where else to turn or what else to do, she kept herself busy at the camp, watching over the construction, catching up on paperwork and doing anything else that would occupy her time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to occupy her mind.
So when she came in late on that second night and found her parents together, she shared with them the decision she’d made: “I’m going to Fairweather tomorrow.”
“Good,” Ryan said. Ellen just nodded.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Riane told them.
“Will you call?” Ellen asked.
Riane wanted to refuse, but she knew it would be petty to do so. Instead she nodded.
Ellen forced a smile. “I’m glad you’re going.”
“Are you?” Riane asked, a deliberate note of challenge in her voice.
“Of course.”
“Why?”
Ellen slipped her hand inside her husband’s larger one, linking their fingers together. It was a subtle but unmistakable gesture of solidarity, and Riane didn’t so much resent it as she resented no longer feeling as if she was a part of that cohesive unit. Since the truth about her parentage had come to light, she’d felt more isolated and alone than ever.
“Because we know you won’t stop wondering until you’ve met your sister,” Ryan told her.
“Aren’t you worried that I might find something with her that’s been missing from my life?”
Riane got no satisfaction from seeing the pain she’d deliberately sought to inflict reflected in her parents’ eyes.
“We’ve thought about almost nothing else since we found out you had a sister,” Ellen confessed.
“Then why do you want me to go?”
“Because we’ve been incredibly selfish for twenty-two years. Because we believe this is something you need to do for you.”
“For me?” Riane challenged. “Or for you? Won’t it assuage some of your own guilt if I reconnect with the sister I lost?”
“Maybe,” the senator acknowledged. “And maybe you’ve been so dissatisfied your whole life because there’s a part of you that hasn’t forgotten her.”
Riane wanted to believe that could be true, but she’d racked her brain searching for some memory—anything—that would give her a hint about her sister. Always without success.
“What about my biological parents?” Riane taunted.
“Maybe I should look them up, too. We could have a real family reunion.”
Ellen paled noticeably, but it was Ryan who responded. “That’s enough, Riane.” His tone was sharp, commanding. “We know you’re hurt and angry, but you don’t ever speak to your mother that way.”
It was on the tip of Riane’s tongue to snap back that Ellen wasn’t her mother, but she was tired of the fighting and she knew that hurting her parents wouldn’t resolve anything.
Ellen put her other hand on her husband’s arm. “If you want to find
your biological parents, that’s your choice.”
Riane sighed wearily. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”
“Do you want us to go to Fairweather with you?”
The offer shouldn’t have surprised her. It did. And what surprised her even more was the urge to accept the offer, to let her parents take control and make everything better—as they always had when she was a child. But she wasn’t a child anymore, and this was a journey she had to make on her own.
“Thanks, but I think I need to do this alone.”
Ellen nodded, as if she understood. And she probably did. She’d always known what was in her daughter’s heart—sometimes before Riane did herself. The realization made Riane feel both petty and ungrateful. She’d been difficult and confrontational since she’d learned of her adoption; her parents had continued to be loving and supportive.
So why couldn’t she just forget that she had another family somewhere? Why was she so preoccupied with finding a sister she didn’t even remember?
She wasn’t sure of the answers to these questions, she only knew that she had to go to Fairweather.
Now that she was in Fairweather, Riane had no idea how to take the next step.
She drove through the town, propelled by curiosity and indecision, and she was amazed at how much the town reminded her of Mapleview. The tree-lined streets, the classic architecture, the tidy little shops, the friendliness of passersby. Despite the fact that it was more than twice the size of her hometown, it had a similar, welcoming feel. It unnerved her, that someplace she’d never been could feel so much like home.
She parked in front of the Fairweather Courthouse—a beautiful building highlighted with towering white pillars and gleaming, multifaceted windows. Still, she knew it wasn’t the architecture that had drawn her to the location, but the possibility that Arden might be inside.
Joel had told her that Arden was a family law attorney, engaged to a criminal defense attorney. She didn’t know much more than that, and she wasn’t sure where to look or even if she was ready to find Arden. She probably wouldn’t recognize her, anyway. The only picture she had of her sister was the one Joel had given to her—a picture taken almost twenty-two years earlier. But she ventured inside and wandered through the halls.
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