Serpent in Paradise

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “But, Mel, you don’t understand. Jase said he couldn’t... I mean, he said he’d been told he would never be able to...”

  A week later Amy sat in the consultation room of her gynecologist and tried to explain the same thing to the middle-aged woman on the other side of the desk.

  “I can’t be pregnant,” Amy concluded huskily, pleading for confirmation.

  With a sympathetic expression Dr. Jessica Carson strove to explain the facts of life to her twenty-eight-year-old patient. “Having a low sperm count is not the same thing as being sterile, Amy. Far from it. I can introduce you to any number of couples who gave up and adopted children, only to turn around and create their own baby a few months later. The odds may not be in favor of a man getting a woman pregnant if his count is low, but that is not to say it’s impossible.”

  Amy stared at her, stricken. With ringing clarity she remembered the scene in her bedroom the morning after she had first gone to bed with Jase. She had been in a panic and he had been anxious to calm her down.

  What were the odds that his soothing story had been a complete fabrication, that he had made it up just to keep her conveniently where he wanted her: in bed?

  Amy was trembling as she left the doctor’s office. Jase had tricked her. In her panic and hurt and anxiety, that was the only fact that seemed to blaze forth.

  Jase had used her, knowing he would never see her again. Just like so many other men, he hadn’t cared about the consequences of his actions. All that had concerned him was having a convenient and willing lover for a while.

  And like so many women before her, Amy had been left to deal with the results of her own recklessness.

  A fury unlike anything she had ever known took root in the depths of her soul.

  Chapter Eleven

  San Francisco was suddenly teaming with babies. Amy saw babies everywhere she went during the next few days. Ahead of her on escalators in the department stores, they rode snuggled in special backpacks. The elevator in her apartment building always seemed to be crowded with strollers filled with toddlers. Babies gazed up at her as they sat on their mothers’ laps beside Amy on the bus. Infants lazed contentedly in grocery store carts, riding through the checkout line with the rest of the items in the baskets. Never had she been so aware of babies. Normally she had paid little attention to children, aside from Craig. Now she couldn’t seem to avoid them.

  It was psychological, Amy knew. She told herself again and again that the shock of her own pregnancy had made her overly aware of the babies around her. My God, she thought over and over again, what am I going to do? One thing was certain, she had to stop stumbling unwittingly into the infant departments of the large stores and staring, fascinated, at every child under the age of two. She couldn’t even sleep nights because of the dreams full of babies.

  A week after Dr. Carson had given her the news, Amy sat at her sister’s kitchen table and repeated the lament dully. “Mel, I’m going out of my mind,” she whispered honestly. “I just can’t seem to think straight. What on earth am I going to do?”

  “Well, there is one very definite way out,” Mel said gently as she poured the coffee. “And you know it as well as I do. Every woman has the option.”

  Amy stared at her sister, eyes dark and ravaged as she acknowledged the truth. “An abortion?” she made herself ask. Why was it such a difficult word? “I keep telling myself I’m not going to let a man trap me, but...” She broke off, shaking her head uncomprehendingly. “I refuse to let myself be used and then abandoned to raise a child alone. But an abortion? Mel, I just can’t think! What’s wrong with me?” she ended, softly pleading.

  Melissa watched her sister warily as the coffee cup in Amy’s hand clattered awkwardly on the saucer. Her sister’s natural propensity for clumsiness had increased several degrees lately. Amy was living on her nerves, and it showed.

  “Who,” Mel finally pointed out gently, “abandoned whom in this instance?”

  Amy stared at her, stunned. “What are you suggesting? That I run back to Saint Clair and demand marriage?”

  “Why not?”

  “I will not beg a man for marriage,” Amy seethed. “If Jase had wanted me he would have come after me. If you want to know the truth, I think he was rather relieved to see me go. Our relationship was hopeless and we both knew it, right from the start. The wrong place, the wrong time and the wrong people. He told me that, Mel. He said I was exactly the wrong sort of woman for him,” she concluded wistfully.

  “Well, you were even, weren’t you? You thought he was exactly the wrong sort of man for you!”

  “How could I have been so stupid?” Amy wondered aloud, not for the first time since she had returned to San Francisco.

  “Will you at least consider the possibility of an abortion?” her sister asked very gently.

  Amy scowled at her.

  “I got that far, you know,” Melissa confided quietly.

  “No! I didn’t know! Mel, are you telling me you almost had an abortion when you discovered you were pregnant with Craig? I didn’t realize...!”

  “I knew things probably weren’t going to work out between myself and Ty. I think I knew from the very beginning. He was everything you said he was, unreliable, undependable, untrustworthy and uncaring. I knew he didn’t really want a baby. I panicked when I realized I was pregnant and scheduled an abortion.”

  “What happened?”

  Melissa’s mouth turned downward wryly. “This is going to sound crazy, but I canceled the appointment at the last minute, because I felt like an idiot. It’s incredible what feeling like an idiot does to your common sense.”

  “I don’t understand,” Amy said weakly.

  “I walked into the waiting room at the clinic and discovered that almost every other female present was about fourteen years old!”

  “Oh, my God!” Amy stared at her.

  “Exactly,” Melissa continued emphatically. “They looked at me as if to say, ‘I’m only fourteen, so I’ve got an excuse for being here. All fourteen-year-olds make mistakes. You’re almost thirty. What the hell’s your excuse for getting into trouble?’ I tell you, Amy, it was mortifying,” Melissa ended with a rueful chuckle. “There I was, going through one of the most traumatic moments in my life, and my initial reaction was old-fashioned embarrassment over the obvious fact of my own stupidity. Crazy. But it was enough to drive me back out of the clinic to rethink the whole matter.”

  “And obviously you changed your mind, entirely.” Amy shook her head and then rested her brow on her palm in an attitude of weary frustration. “I wish I could think this through clearly. But I can’t seem to approach it rationally. I keep remembering that Jase lied to me. He told me he couldn’t get me pregnant!”

  “Was that before or after you’d taken the risk?” Melissa inquired softly.

  Amy flushed, her cheeks hoisting flags of brilliant color.

  “Do you want me to call Dr. Carson and have her set up an appointment for you at the clinic?” Melissa asked matter-of-factly. “It’s only four-thirty. She’s probably still at her office this afternoon.-

  Amy felt the mounting pressure and was afraid she would lose her self-control completely. Was that what she wanted? An abortion? Why weren’t there more options for a woman in this situation? Life could be so unfair! But that undeniable fact didn’t give her the right to be unfair to the small growing life within her. This was Jase’s child she was carrying, not a medical specimen. No, not just Jase’s child, her child. With sudden decision, Amy looked up at her sister.

  “No, Mel. Abortion is not an option, not for me.”

  “There is one possibility you’re overlooking. Dr. Carson could put you in touch with the social agencies that could arrange for adoption.”

  “Adoption,” Amy repeated blankly. Yes, that was a possibility. But why was it almost as hard to think about as abortion had be
en?

  Melissa’s eyes were alight with deep comprehension. She knew, even if Amy hadn’t yet realized it, what her sister’s final decision would be. “Still going through with the cocktail party you had planned for next Friday?” she inquired practically as her sister got to her feet and reached for her small red leather shoulder bag.

  “Of course I’m going through with it,” Amy snapped. “I must keep my life as normal as possible. I will not let this... this situation disrupt it!”

  There was no way, however, to ignore the situation. Sooner or later the decision had to be made. She knew she ought to call Dr. Carson and start the adoption proceedings.

  But the next morning something came up at one of the two boutiques she owned, something that seemed to require her immediate presence and somehow, by three o’clock, Amy hadn’t yet called Dr. Carson. She told herself that she’d wait one more day. Somehow the call didn’t get made the next day, either.

  Two days after that she accidentally blundered into the newborn department of one of the huge department stores on Union Square. Blankly she stood looking at a beautiful layette done in yellow and white lace. Her mind pictured a baby in the tiny crib, a baby with turquoise eyes. Her knees went weak.

  Abruptly she realized she was weak all over. Her head was ringing and her stomach started to churn. Good Lord, she was going to faint right there in the baby department!

  The horror of that kept her going on wobbly feet until she managed to find the ladies’ room. En route through the newborn department, she accidentally knocked over two plush teddy bears and a gift box of dress booties. Amy didn’t even notice the small disasters she left behind. All she could think about was getting to the ladies’ room before she disgraced herself. Half an hour later, having managed to recover sufficiently to get herself out of the store, Amy glanced at a clock. It was getting late in the day. Too late to phone Dr. Carson.

  Twenty-four hours after the incident in the baby department, Amy left work early, taking herself to a nearby café for cup of tea and a private talk with herself.

  It had been nearly a week now and she still hadn’t made the appointment with Dr. Carson to discuss the possibility of putting her baby up for adoption. Amy sipped tea, staring at the rain-slicked sidewalk and forced herself to face facts.

  There were no more good excuses left for putting off the phone call. There never had been any good excuses. The past week had been an exercise in deliberate procrastination, and it was time she faced up to what that really meant.

  A part of her refused to take the one escape route offered. A part of her wanted Jase Lassiter’s baby.

  It was almost a relief to admit it. With a long, weary sigh Amy took another swallow of the tea and wondered what came next. She had been resisting the thought of being a mother for so long that it was difficult now to think logically about it. But she had no choice. The feminine heart of her, the part of her that still loved Jase, couldn’t deal with the prospect of losing the seed of their union.

  However, that decision, as straightforward and positive as it was, didn’t clear up the muddiness of her feelings toward Jase. There was still the fact that he’d undoubtedly lied to her, still the fact that he hadn’t wanted to make a home with her and still the fact that he hadn’t followed her back to San Francisco. She might want his child, but the rage she felt toward Jase was unabated. It was the fiery, chaotic, half-hysterical fury that only a woman in love can experience. He had taken what she’d given, but he had rejected the future she offered.

  Amy went back to the office of Shannon’s Sensuous Chic Boutique, pushed aside a pile of frothy blue bikini panties that were stacked on her desk and reached for the phone. When Melissa came on the line, Amy told her of the decision she had made.

  “You won’t be alone, Amy,” Melissa assured her with deep understanding. “I’ll be there, just as you were there with me.”

  “Thanks, Mel. Thank you very much.”

  There was a long silence while each woman considered the future, and then Melissa said practically, “I’ll see you at the cocktail party Friday.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Amy groaned. “With all this decision-making, I’d forgotten all about it!”

  Amy dressed for her cocktail party Friday evening with care and determination. She wanted to look her best, wanted to show herself that she was a woman in charge of her own destiny. Continuing with her normal round of activities, including entertaining, was a silent statement to the world that she was in control of herself and her future. Having the baby was a conscious decision, just as it had been a conscious decision to go into business for herself. She could manage her own life. For the first time in days Amy’s nerves began to settle down. She didn’t knock over a single glass as she set the glassware out on a buffet table. She didn’t even drop a loaded tray of canapés.

  When all was in readiness, she automatically checked her appearance in the mirrored wall behind the dining area. She was wearing blue tonight, a curious shade of turquoise blue. The dress was a sensation of tiny pleats with a fitted bodice, which emphasized the gentle curves of her breasts. The skirt fell over her rounded hips, flaring gracefully at the knee when she walked. Long Renaissance sleeves ended just below the elbow. Her spice-colored hair was swept into an easy, sophisticated knot, and she had kept her makeup to a minimum. The tiny heels of her black shoes were marked with gold. Amy frowned consideringly at the picture she made, and her hand went to her stomach. How much longer before she should start shopping for maternity clothes? The ringing of the doorbell drew her attention, and Amy went to answer it with a smile on her lips.

  Within an hour the apartment was filled with friends. Amy circulated easily, the gracious hostess in full command of herself and the party. No one but Melissa and Adam knew of her pregnancy, and she decided to wait before telling anyone else. The result was that she moved through the crowded living room feeling as if she had a special secret carefully hidden from the others. It put a sparkle of amusement in her eyes and a smile of contentment on her lips.

  “You look more relaxed tonight than you have since you returned from Saint Clair,” Adam observed as he and Melissa stood chatting with Amy beside the buffet table.

  “You mean I haven’t knocked over anything or dropped a platter of food on the floor?”

  Adam chuckled ruefully, smiling down at Melissa. “Mel here explained that you’ve always been a little on the, uh, klutzy side.”

  “Only when I get nervous,” Amy said, grinning. She was about to help herself to a glass of wine when the doorbell rang again. Hesitating, she took a quick sip and made a face. It didn’t taste very good for some reason. Another quirk of pregnancy? Perhaps it was just as well, she thought as she excused herself to answer the door. She’d read somewhere that it was probably best to avoid alcohol during pregnancy.

  The glass was still in her hand when she opened the door with a welcoming smile. An instant later it fell to the floor from nerveless fingers as Amy realized who was standing on the threshold.

  “Jase!”

  He stood there, larger than life, in familiar khaki clothes. The mahogany-colored hair was carefully combed and was damp from the San Francisco fog. His only concession to the weather appeared to be an old trench coat that lay over one arm. Standing there in the carpeted hall, Jase looked out of place, a little rough and clearly unaccustomed to the sophistication of the city. He also looked bigger than Amy remembered, taller and more intense, more intimidating. She stood frozen with shock.

  “Amy?” The familiar turquoise eyes moved over her with a stark hunger, a hunger Amy remembered well. The sherry-rich sound of his voice broke her paralysis. Without hesitation she brought up her palm in a short, violent arc.

  The sharp crack of her hand against the side of his face turned the head of everyone in the room.

  It also turned Jase’s head. In fact the totally unexpected blow sent him staggering back a pace
into the hall. Amy followed, shutting the door to her apartment firmly behind her. As he stared at her, his fingers going to the red welt she had left on his cheek, Amy faced him, her hands on her hips.

  “I’m pregnant, you bastard! And it’s all your fault! What the hell are you going to do about it?”

  Jase just stood there, his eyes riveted to her face as she glared up at him. He couldn’t think of anything to say except the obvious.

  “Amy, that’s impossible! You can’t be pregnant,” he whispered, still too stunned to think straight. Of all the welcomes he’d imagined, this was the last kind he’d expected. It was as if the fantasy that had been in his head that last night when he’d made love to Amy had suddenly taken complete hold of his senses. She couldn’t be pregnant!

  “Tell that to my gynecologist!” Amy hissed. `But don’t bother trying to give her that story about the low sperm count because it won’t wash. How could you lie to me like that, Jase? I trusted you! I trusted you with my life, in fact. How could you lie to me?”

  He swallowed, trying to recover his self-control. He seemed able to respond only to one thing at a time. “Amy, I didn’t lie to you,” he said. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  “You’re going to have the sheer arrogance to stand there and tell me you really didn’t think you could get me pregnant?” she demanded, enraged.

  “Are you going to have the sheer arrogance to stand there and tell me I did get you pregnant?” he retaliated.

  Amy blanched, her eyes widening in shock as she realized for the first time that if he was telling the truth, if he really believed that he couldn’t get a woman pregnant, then it followed that he wouldn’t believe her when she accused him of fathering her child. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Oh, my God.”