Hudsons Crossing

by Altonya Washington

  Talib stroked his jaw. “She loves him. She wouldn’t betray him that way. I know women who pull this crap on the regular.” His dark gaze took on a cooler tint. “Riley Stamper’s not one of ’em.”

  “Hey, man, I know Riley, and I believe that, too, but if these pics run in place with some screwball story, then it won’t matter if they were discussing an article on the garden club.” Hayes set down the glass again. “You may want to let Ashe know these are out there. He may want to bite the bullet before it’s loaded in the gun.”

  Hayes left the suite while Talib studied the photos again.

  “When I asked you to relieve your tension, I didn’t expect you to get your blood pressure up over it.”

  Riley moved to the edge of the chair and watched her doctor behind the desk. “Is that why I’ve been so tired?”

  Lettia nodded. “That’s part of it.” She studied Riley over the top of her gold glasses. “Fatigue goes hand in hand with pregnancy sometimes, and the high blood pressure doesn’t help.”

  Riley’s smoky stare widened. “The baby?”

  “Fine. Fine. It’s fine, but that could change if we don’t get the pressure down.” She began to scribble on a pad. “I want you to go home and sleep. Stay in bed, and keep the cabinets stocked with the herbal tea I’ve got on the list. What?” she asked, looking up to see Riley shaking her head.

  “Like I’ve been telling you, it’s easier said than done.”

  “I’m losing my patience with you, Riley.” Lettia removed her glasses. “I’m moments away from putting you on strict bed rest. For someone as active as you, that’d be like a death sentence. But I’ll do it if it’s the only way to keep you and the baby healthy.”

  “I want to rest.” Riley focused on the pointed toe of her burgundy pump tapping one leg of the desk. “The signing party for Victor Lyne is tonight, and I have to be there. Asher’s counting on me, and things are bad enough between us without me backing out of this.”

  “I want to see you again next week.” Lettia went back to scribbling on her pad. “If the pressure is still up, then it’s bed rest for you. No questions.”

  Riley swallowed with effort before nodding her agreement.

  Misha flipped through the pages of the folder she was studying on the way to her office. She did a double take and stumbled on her four-inch heels when she saw Talib Mason enjoying the view from her office windows. For several moments, she enjoyed the sight of him. Though his days as a linebacker were far behind him, he remained a prime specimen. With effort, she shook herself back to reality before she began to swoon right there.

  “Surprise, surprise,” she sang while strolling into her office.

  Talib turned slowly from the view and indulged in a brief appraisal of her pencil-slim yet sultry form. He noticed her tilting stare narrow and turned away before his expression grew too telling.

  “So to what do I owe the honor?” Misha waltzed toward her desk, determined to keep her demeanor light.

  Instead of responding, Talib tossed a legal-size envelope on the desk. Misha opened it and scanned the photos inside. Finding nothing torrid, she looked up at him.

  “Riley and Bastian Grovers? Bastian’s our—”

  “I know him.”

  “And you’re showing me this because?”

  Talib’s pointed expression roused a hearty laugh from Misha.

  “Are you serious? Riley’d never do a thing like that.”

  Talib agreed but wanted to play devil’s advocate a little longer. “Phoenix is a long way from New York, Misha.”

  She slammed down the photos, her onyx stare ablaze. “Isn’t it, though? I wonder what Riley might find out if she asked how Asher spends those long, lonely nights out West.”

  Talib appeared unaffected. “Who knows why people do what they do.”

  Misha accepted the blow. “Riley wouldn’t.”

  “I agree.” He focused on tugging at the cuff of his shirt. “She’s not that type of woman, and Lord knows, I’ve got experience enough to know the difference.”

  Misha accepted blow number two and decided that was enough. Gathering the photos, she slammed them to Talib’s broad chest and went to stand at her open door. “Get out.”

  Talib hesitated, in that moment, truly sorry for what he’d said. He did as she asked, wincing when the door slammed behind his back.

  Applause rang out following a toast from one of Victor’s new teammates. Laughter mingled with hand claps throughout the upscale dining hall located on the top floor of a Manhattan skyscraper.

  Asher’s hearty chuckle resounded as loudly as anyone else’s. That is, until he caught sight of his wife in a daring peach gown that gloved her curves and showed a hint of the telltale bulge in her belly. He blinked, watching her with a look that was a mix of desire and helplessness.

  Victor called out to his agent twice before grabbing his attention. “Rory here is interested in talking to you about representation,” he said, gesturing toward one of his newest teammates.

  Asher shrugged and spread his hands wide. “Grab me now. I’m on a roll!” he boasted playfully, his response generating swells of laughter. His mind was still on Riley, but when he looked around, she was gone.

  Riley met up with several colleagues and felt even more at ease when Bastian Grovers nudged her elbow.

  “How’d you get past security?” she teased.

  “You’re forgetting my exclusive on Victor.” Bastian winked. “Thank you again.” He kissed her cheek. “Dance?”

  Riley glanced around for Asher, then told herself he probably wouldn’t want to talk to her, anyway. With a smile in place, she accepted the arm Bastian offered, and they laughed all the way to the dance floor.

  Asher had already caught sight of the laughing couple on the dance floor. He was heading over to claim his wife when he was cornered by Justine Duke.

  “My, my, you do keep turning up,” Asher murmured.

  Justine shrugged. “Guess I’m just your average bad penny.”

  “May I quote you on that?”

  “Actually, it’s your quote I’m interested in.” She waited a beat and then glanced across one shoulder, left bare by her backless frock. “Riley’s positively radiant. But then again, she’s always glowing.” She smiled up at Asher. “Many are commenting on that stunning gown of hers and the fact that it’s doing nothing to hide that bulge in her tummy. Will you two be making an announcement of the baby sort anytime soon?”

  Asher simply nodded. “Good evening, Ms. Duke.”

  She moved into his path before he could walk by her. “A baby might make the distance in your relationship quite difficult. But then…” Her expression was as coy as her tone of voice. “I’m sure a woman like Riley Stamper wouldn’t have a problem finding someone to look out for her if her husband—”

  Asher took a sudden step forward, and Justine took an instinctive step back.

  “You can quote me on this.” His voice was low, monotone and deadly in its intensity. “If I get one whiff about any unsubstantiated stories carrying your byline, you won’t even be able to get a job scrubbing toilets for a tabloid when I’m done with you.”

  When he walked away, Justine closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Steadier then, she managed a refreshing smile. “Unsubstantiated, huh? Not by a long shot, Mr. Hudson.”

  Chapter 16

  Riley and Bastian were still laughing and enjoying their dance when Bastian’s smile broadened.

  “Well, hey, hey! The man of the hour!” The sports editor greeted Asher warmly.

  “Grovers,” Asher said, then acknowledged the greeting with a stiff nod.

  “Congratulations, man. Seriously.” Bastian offered his hand. “Quite a coup. Glad I was part of it in some way.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Settling Riley’s hand in her husband’s, Bastian left the couple with a good-night nod.

  The easiness of the moment left with her colleague. Riley took note of the tightness
in Asher’s jaw the second he pulled her close.

  “What’s wrong?” she murmured, praying it had to do with something other than them.

  No such luck.

  “Have you told them you’re not taking the job?” His voice was as hard as his expression.

  Whatever lightness Riley felt vanished like mist. She looked round to see if they were being observed and then rolled her eyes back to Asher. “Let’s not do this here.”

  Asher, unfortunately, was itching for a fight. “Do what?” The words shot out through his clenched teeth. “Ask my wife to put our life before her career?”

  Her fist curled against the front lapel of his suit coat. “I will not have this same tired argument with you, and here of all places.” She moved to walk away, but he held her fast.

  “I’m losing it with you, Ri.”

  She laughed. “Then you’re late, baby, since I lost it with you a long time ago. Let go of me.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me? Mr. Hudson? Ms. Stamper?”

  The couple stopped snarling at each other long enough to be informed that they were wanted for a photo op.

  “This won’t take long,” Asher was saying once they were alone.

  Riley’s dark face was aglow with amazement. “You don’t really expect me to smile with you for a camera?”

  He didn’t bother to spare her a glance. “And make it good.” He took her upper arm in a firm hold. For good measure, he drew her into a thorough and lengthy kiss. As usual, the long, deep thrusts of his tongue made her forget everything except becoming an eager participant in the act. By the time he pulled back, her calm intermingled with her rage.

  Riley stormed her way into the loft, stripped out of the daring gown and went to the bathroom, where she splashed cold water over her face. From there, it was back to the kitchen, where she raided the fridge for a quart of fudge ripple ice cream and whipped topping. She gorged on the sinful treats as if they were the last things she’d ever eat. She was sitting on the kitchen floor, near the fridge, when her husband came home.

  “Riley,” he called, a clear apology on his lips when he found her.

  “Jackass,” she greeted.

  He nodded, his handsome face soft with regret as he moved farther into the kitchen. “I deserved that.”

  “Nooo.” Riley knocked the back of her head against a cabinet. “No, horse’s ass. That’s it.” She spooned a mound of fudge ripple into her mouth. “That one fits you better.”

  “Will you let me apologize?”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” She moved to get up from the floor and pushed Asher away when he tried to help her.

  “Everyone was saying how you were glowing and noticing that little rise in your stomach and asking if a baby might be on the way…” he shared while leaning against the counter. “Guess it all just got to me.”

  “Damn dress,” Riley hissed and tossed her spoon into the sink. “Haven’t worn it since I bought it last summer. I’m not big enough to wear the one you bought me, so I figured I’d go put that one on.” She shrugged. “Tonight was probably my last chance to wear it before the baby.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She pinned him with her smoky browns and shook her head. “Don’t apologize unless you didn’t mean what you said.” His expression told her that wasn’t the case. She shoved the treats back in the refrigerator and left the kitchen.

  He caught her before she cleared the living room. Pulling her back against him, he pressed his face into the nape of her neck.

  “I have a life here,” she whispered. “I have a career I love. Why can’t you accept how hard it is for me to let go of all that?”

  Instead of answering, Asher began to ply her skin with kisses while massaging the dull achiness from her breasts.

  “This won’t save what’s wrong between us,” she warned, wanting to melt against him.

  “Doesn’t have to.” His free hand dipped into her panties.

  Riley whimpered.

  When Asher felt the abundance of moisture coating his fingers, his legs went watery beneath him. Effortlessly, he hoisted Riley into his arms and carried her to their bedroom. The minutes passed in a dull haze of desire and possession as Asher made love to her with his hands and mouth before losing his clothes and taking her completely.

  Riley’s laughter held only the faintest trace of humor as she sipped tea and scanned the entertainment section of the newspaper the following morning.

  “What’s up?” Asher left the eggs he’d been scrambling to peer over her shoulder.

  “My colleagues didn’t waste a minute.” Riley folded the paper into a smaller section and recited the quote that had sparked her laughter. “‘Asher Hudson and Riley Stamper—gorgeous as usual—with the lovely Riley sporting a mysterious bulge.’” She read the caption below the picture they’d posed for at the signing party. “‘Could the gorgeous Mr. Hudson be bringing on a new player?’”

  Asher grinned and waved a hand as a request for the paper. He continued to read from the story accompanying the photo. “‘The question now is how long will the respected columnist remain a resident of our fair city?’”

  Losing her taste for the tea, Riley dumped the remnants into the sink and took longer than necessary to rinse her mug.

  “Guess that’s the question of the year.” Asher’s observation was void of amusement. He tossed the paper on the dining table. “Maybe they’ll be able to get an answer out of you.”

  “Asher…”

  “God knows I can’t.”

  Riley slammed the orange ceramic mug into the dish rack. “Do you have any idea what you’re putting me through with this?”

  “Putting you through?”

  “Yes, Asher, me. Remember me?” Her thumbnail poked her chest. “The woman who’s pregnant with your child. Sorry to break this to you, but it’s not about you. It’s about me and the baby and what’s best for us!”

  Asher stepped back, as though she’d hit him. “Us? Don’t I fit into that group, Riley?”

  She knew she’d hurt him, even though he chose to hide the emotion by turning away. She wouldn’t apologize. She was hurting, too, and it was time he understood how much.

  “This is not a difficult decision to make.” Asher tugged on the drawstring of his sleep pants, desperate to soothe the rage he’d managed to quell as they’d loved each other the previous night. “Forgive me if I sound cold about your column, but you really can work on it from anywhere. As for this position of yours—” he let her see his face then “—I know it’s a chance of a lifetime, but so is our child coming into the world.” He moved toward her, softness taking root in his expression and voice. “I can give you anything you want. You could do whatever your heart desires in Phoenix.”

  “Except work doing something I love and make it my own.”

  “Dammit, Ri, you’re my wife! Making it on your own isn’t a thing you have to worry about!”

  “Until I find myself alone, with a child to raise!” she blurted, closing her eyes as she whirled away from him.

  Asher froze. Other than the fire stirring in his provocative stare, he was like stone.

  “Is that what you think I’d do to you?” His voice was half groan, half whisper.

  “It’s what my father did,” she mumbled.

  Asher came up behind her and made her turn to face him. “Is that what you think I’d do?”

  Riley couldn’t make herself take it back. “I believe…here now you’d never leave or never abandon us…never find someone else to love.” She rubbed clammy hands across the seat of her shorts. “My mother believed the same thing, but that didn’t stop it from happening.” She met his gaze with her own stony one. “I know you’re not my father, but things change. People change. Things they think they want…change.”

  He seemed to wilt. “Have you always felt this way?”

  “Yes.” She owed him her honesty. “I tried to tell you that marriage wasn’t for me, but you didn’t seem to want
it any other way.” Tears sprinkled her cheeks suddenly. “And…and I love you so much.”

  “You love me?” The admission only set Asher further on edge. “Is that what you said? Seconds ago you’re telling me you think one day I’ll walk out on you and my child, that you’ve always felt this way, and now you expect me to believe you love me?”

  Riley could hardly decipher his image through the tears blurring her eyes. “Asher.” She reached out to him, her heart lurching when he wrenched back from her touch.

  “I need to go.” He looked everywhere but her face.

  “Wait—”

  “It’s best that I leave.” He looked over at the eggs he’d scrambled. “I’ll grab somethin’ while I’m out.”

  “Asher, please…”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, surprised to find wetness spiking his lashes. Riley called his name as he left the kitchen, but he didn’t look back.

  Talib had barely pulled the door open halfway when Asher stormed through it.

  “Well, good morning!” When his cheery greeting was met by a stony glare, Talib rubbed his hands, his expression a mix of humor and curiosity. “Now this I can’t figure!” The Manchester, England, in his voice gave his amused bellow a regal undertone. “Are you forgetting last night being a total success? That we may be snagging a few new clients? Blokes who are a bit disillusioned with their present representation?”

  “Riley never wanted to marry me.”

  “Get out.”

  “It’s true.” Asher’s sullen grimace was unmistakably honest.

  Talib felt his excitement over the previous evening’s success begin to fade. “Well…” He glanced down at his glass of cranberry juice and decided it could stand a bit of hardening. “You gotta know this isn’t true, Ashe.” He splashed a bit of gin onto the burgundy juice. “The two of you are a unit. You’re made for each other.”

  Asher smoothed one hand across the dull ache in the center of his chest. “She practically told me so. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Hell, I practically bullied her into marrying me, anyway.”