Private Passions

by Rochelle Alers

  “Hey, Michael,” Emily said softly.

  Reaching for her right hand, Michael brought it to his lips. He kissed each one of her fingers before he hugged her, rocking her gently.

  “Dad told me that you and Chris got married in Mexico just after the New Year. How long have you two been together?”

  Pulling back, she stared over his broad shoulder. “Less than ten days before we married. He came to see me in Ocho Rios when he thought I was going to marry Keith Norris.”

  Michael frowned. “You really weren’t thinking about marrying that idiot, were you?”

  “He’s hardly an idiot. He just happens to have an inflated ego.”

  Her brother flashed a wide grin. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Believe what? Me married?”

  “Not that as much as you as the first lady of New Mexico.”

  That was something she did not want to think about. Not yet. “Even if you can’t get back home to vote, remember to send in your absentee ballot,” she reminded her brother.

  But Michael wasn’t listening to her. His attention was fixed on a young woman who was probably a member of his cousin’s band. The Florida sun glinted off her satiny, sable skin. Her natural hairdo was cropped close to her scalp, while a body-hugging tank dress exhibited an inordinate amount of smooth flesh. She leaned down to pick up several pages of sheet music, giving her admirer a generous display of her full breasts in a revealing neckline.

  “Who is she, Emily?”

  “I don’t know. Do you want me to find out?”

  “No. I believe I can handle that.” Leaning down, he kissed his sister’s cheek. “I left a wedding gift for you and Chris in the house.”

  Emily watched as her six-foot-four-inch brother strolled casually across the patio, removed his sunglasses and extended his right hand to the young woman. She appeared stunned as she stared up him, then extended her hand. They were still holding hands when Gabriel moved over to formally introduce them.

  Regina Spencer walked over to Emily, curving an arm around her cousin’s waist. “Your brother looks like he’s on the prowl.”

  “That’s because she’s his type—tall and dark with long legs.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Stunningly so,” Emily concurred.

  Childish voices and giggles filled the air when Nancy Cole-Thomas crowded the patio with her husband, children and many grandchildren.

  Minutes later, Josephine Cole-Wilson and her family joined the others. Some of the younger children stripped off their shorts and T-shirts and jumped into the heated pool, despite their parents’ protests.

  The smell of grilled meat filled the air as Martin, Joshua and Aaron Spencer lined three grill carts, each with a rotisserie, with marinated meats. David and Serena had wanted to cater the affair but had changed their minds when informed that Christopher and Emily Delgado sought to keep their marriage a secret until after the November election. The men decided they would do the grilling, while Vanessa, Parris and Serena opted to prepare all the main and side dishes.

  The nausea Emily had experienced the day before had subsided after she’d eaten breakfast and had yet to return. She had examined her nude body earlier that morning in front of a full-length mirror, finding her breasts fuller than they’d ever been. There still hadn’t been a sign of her menses, so she continued to suspect that she was carrying Chris’s child.

  She spied Chris coming out of the house with Tyler Cole. She tried not to be caught staring at him, but the depth of her love for her husband radiated from her gaze. He was as casually dressed as the other men—lightweight slacks and a short-sleeved shirt. He pumped hands and kissed cheeks wherever someone stopped to congratulate him.

  He stopped several feet from her, lowered his chin slightly, and smiled. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Delgado. You’re looking well.”

  “So are you, Mr. Delgado. How was your flight?”

  “Uneventful.”

  Tyler Cole shook his head ruefully. “Damn. If this is the way newlyweds interact with each other, I’m never getting married.”

  Chris placed a hand on Tyler’s broad shoulder. “You don’t expect me to ravish her in public, do you?”

  Tyler smiled, displaying a set of twin dimples. “You can kiss her, cousin.”

  Needing no further prompting, Chris swept Emily up in his arms and devoured her mouth. There was a spattering of applause that grew louder once everyone realized what was happening. Emily pushed against Chris’s chest, trying to extricate herself. She felt her head spin when she couldn’t breathe, going completely limp in his arms.

  Chris’s head came up, a triumphant grin on his face. Emily buried her nose against his neck, flames of embarrassment flaring and heating up her face.

  “Put her down, Chris,” Tyler suggested once the clapping stopped. “I want to take her into the house and examine her.”

  “What for?”

  Tyler stared at Emily, then her husband. “You don’t know?”

  “What am I missing here?” Chris asked.

  “Your wife could be pregnant.”

  Emily felt the burning anger of Chris’s accusing gaze adding more heat to her already warm face. “I’m not sure. I felt sick on the flight last night.”

  Tyler placed a hand on her arm. “Come on, Emily. After I examine you and test your urine, you’ll know one way or the other.”

  “Put me down, Chris.” He complied, and she gave her cousin a beseeching look. “Tyler, I’d rather not.”

  Grasping her hand, he squeezed her fingers gently. “This is no time to be embarrassed. It’s either me or Aaron. And I think I’m better qualified because I’m the OB-GYN.”

  She knew he was right; Aaron was a pediatrician. “Can Chris be there?”

  Chris stared at his wife’s cousin. Tyler was the quintessential male Cole: tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair, dark eyes, a dimpled smile and rich olive-brown coloring.

  Tyler shrugged a shoulder. “I have no objection.”

  Chris and Tyler led Emily into the wing of the large house David and Serena had set aside for their guests. Vanessa moved beside her husband, watching the trio disappear into the house.

  Resting her head on Joshua’s shoulder, she smiled up at him. “What are you thinking about?”

  Reaching up, Joshua smoothed back several strands of straightened graying hair from his wife’s cheek, tucking them behind her ear. “I’m thinking you’ll finally get your wish.”

  “And that is?”

  “You’re going to get your grandchild.”

  Vanessa affected a slight frown. “Don’t take that tone with me, Joshua Kirkland,” she chided softly. “I’m not the only one who wants a grandchild.”

  He raised a pale eyebrow, giving her a look that spoke volumes. “I know you’re not talking about me.”

  “Yeah, you, Mr. Kirkland. Matt told me that you said you wanted to be a grandfather.”

  “Matt talks too much.”

  Rising on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his clean-shaven cheek. “Do you?”

  “What?”

  “Want a grandchild?”

  He gave her a tender smile. “Of course I do, angel. But what I really wanted was another child.”

  “Don’t even try it, Joshua. You’re lucky you got two children out of me. I’d warned you about your secret missions.” She’d threatened to divorce him if he returned to his former career as a military intelligence officer.

  Joshua might have wanted another child, but he was content. His life had gone better than he could’ve ever expected. Vanessa was a perfect wife and mother. He loved her, his daughter and his son. And now they could look forward to grandchildren. A satisfied smile curved his mouth as he baste
d slices of grilled chicken breast and butterflied lamb.

  * * *

  Emily sat numbly on the bed, allowing Chris to help her dress. Tyler had just confirmed her suspicions. She was pregnant and could expect to deliver sometime around November 8. Her due date was Election Day.

  Mixed emotions assailed her. She’d agreed to having a child with Chris, but the import of their decision to begin their family wasn’t apparent—until now.

  Was she really ready for motherhood?

  Was she willing to give up her career—a career that had been stymied by unfounded charges?

  And did she really want to be a politician’s wife?

  She chided herself, staring down at the salt-and-pepper hair covering her husband’s head as he knelt down to slip her sandals on to her bare feet. Had her love for him masked reality?

  In less than three months she’d rejected one man’s marriage proposal, accepted another’s, married him and now become pregnant.

  And in less than three months her professional life had also been turned upside down. A vindictive boss had reassigned her, she had become an earwitness to a murder and because she’d reported the incident her professional ethics had come under close scrutiny.

  She’d become mired in a morass of uncertainty, while the only true thing was that she was the pregnant Mrs. Christopher Delgado.

  Going to his knees in front of her, Chris grasped her cold fingers, holding them gently. “Are you all right?”

  Forcing a smile, she nodded. “Congratulations.”

  Moving closer, he placed his head on her lap. “Gracias, mi amor. Thank you for making me so happy. And thank you for making my life so complete.”

  She pulled her right hand away and placed it on his head. “Aren’t you forgetting about becoming governor?”

  His head came up slowly as he stared at her, unblinking. “There was a time when becoming governor was as important to me as drinking water to sustain my life.”

  “And now?” The two words were barely a whisper.

  “Now that’s not important. Nothing is more important to me than you and this baby.”

  Closing her eyes against his intensity, Emily mumbled a silent prayer for strength, because at that moment his sentiments did not echo her own. She did love him, but the realization that a child was growing inside her had not yet become a reality. And like Sara Lassiter, she wanted more than being a wife and mother. What she had to discover was what that more was.

  Resting her cheek on Chris’s head, she pressed her lips to his hair. “Go get our parents. It’s time we give them some more shocking news.”

  Leaning forward, he kissed her. “I’ll be right back.”

  After he left the room, Emily moved over to a rattan chair. The fabric on the back and seat cushions matched the comforters on the twin beds.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to stop the rush of tears welling behind her eyelids. What was wrong with her? All her life she’d fantasized about marrying Chris and having his children, so why was she having seconds thoughts now? What was it that kept her from sharing his joy?

  She opened her eyes, successfully stemming the flow of unexpected tears. She was back in control when Eve and Vanessa walked into the bedroom, followed by Matt, Joshua and Chris.

  Rising to her feet, she affected a bright smile. She looped her arm through Chris’s when he moved next to her. “Chris and I have something to tell you.” She glanced at him, inclining her head.

  He cleared his throat, then announced, “Emily and I are expecting a child. We estimate that the birth will coincide with Election Day.”

  Vanessa and Eve clapped hands over their mouths, then turned and hugged each other. The two expectant grandfathers gave each other rough embraces, pounding each other’s back.

  Matt turned to his stepson, pulling him roughly to his chest. Leaning down, he kissed him on both cheeks. “Nice job, son.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Extending his arm to Emily, he pulled her to his side. Joshua and Vanessa moved closer, forming a circle as the six people held hands.

  Chris gave each one a calm look, saying softly, “Emily and I would like to keep this news between us for the time being. I’ll respect her decision as to when she’s ready to make the announcement.” There was a unanimous nod from all those assembled.

  “I think this calls for a celebratory toast,” Matt said.

  “Amen to that,” Joshua concurred.

  Vanessa turned and hugged her daughter. “Your father and I will return to Santa Fe with you and the others.”

  Emily went completely still. “I thought you and Daddy had planned to stay here until the end of April.”

  “Our plans have changed. You might need us—especially with the baby coming.”

  She held up a hand. “No, Mom. I’m only a few weeks into this pregnancy, and the baby’s not due until early November.”

  “But Emily—”

  “But nothing, Mom. I’m going to be okay. I’ll see my own doctor as soon as I get back home. And I’ll call you. Every day. I promise.”

  Vanessa pressed her forehead to her daughter’s. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Can I tell Connie when she gets back from vacation?”

  “Yes, you can tell Aunt Connie.”

  Constance Blanchard-Childs’s husband, a newly retired cardiologist, had taken his wife, their two sons, daughters-in-law and preschool grandchildren on a family vacation to the South Pacific for three weeks. The Childses were scheduled to spend time touring Australia, New Zealand and Tahiti.

  Vanessa Kirkland’s large dark eyes crinkled as she displayed an alluring smile. Emily thought her mother was aging beautifully. Her thick black hair was liberally streaked with gray. Parted off-center, the soft, curling ends floated under her delicate chin and around her long, slender neck. She hadn’t gained more than eight pounds since she had married Joshua Kirkland, but the additional weight was distributed in all the right places.

  Emily couldn’t remember her mother ever raising her voice. She had managed to make herself obeyed not by how she said something, but what she said. Vanessa was the only person Emily knew who struck fear in her father. A warning glance or a softly spoken threat usually had Joshua scrambling to do her bidding.

  She wondered how it would be between her and Chris. They were married, yet they did not live together. She had time—eight months—before she delivered the baby—in which she would come to know her husband in every way possible.

  Emily offered a smile so reminiscent of Vanessa’s. “Let’s get back to the others before they suspect we’re hatching a secret mission.”

  “Don’t you dare mention secret missions to me,” Vanessa retorted, giving her husband a warning glare.

  Joshua threw up his hands. “What?”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  Mumbling under his breath in Spanish, he switched fluidly to French, then German. Shaking his head, he stalked out of the bedroom, his wife’s triumphant laughter following him.

  * * *

  Emily spent the afternoon talking to relatives. She chatted with Arianna Cole, questioning her about her life in France. The Olympic gold-medal swimmer regaled her with tales of the inner workings of the European fashion industry, the many glamorous parties she attended with her boyfriend and the cities she’d visited since meeting Salih in Milan, while on holiday. She reported that she had secured a position at a Parisian private school, teaching French to English-speaking children. After everyone had eaten, Arianna entertained the younger children by racing them across the pool. She hadn’t swum competitively for more than ten years, yet she hadn’t lost much of her speed.

  Bright lights lit up the perimeter of the Cole prope
rty, and chairs and tables were repositioned for live music and dancing under the stars.

  Gabriel Cole held a microphone, tapping it gently to garner everyone’s attention. Brilliant spotlights created a halo around his cropped black hair. Dressed entirely in black, two sets of small gold hoops in each ear and strutting much like his father had years before, Gabriel Morris Cole had become David Claridge Cole all over again.

  Unlike his father, who played percussion, piano and guitar, Gabriel possessed the facility to play every instrument in an orchestra. He wrote and played music, and he was also gifted with a wonderful baritone singing voice.

  “I’d like to thank everyone for coming to my parents’ home to help me celebrate what has become the best that life has to offer me as a musician.”

  “You’re the bomb, Gabe,” a young voice called out from a crowd of people sitting with their feet dangling in the warm waters of the swimming pool.

  Gabriel flashed a dimpled grin. “Thanks, Casey.” He’d recognized his aunt’s granddaughter’s voice. “What I’ve achieved would not have been possible without the support of my mother and father.” He turned, inclined his head, positioned his hands over his heart, then pointed to David and Serena, who stood side by side, their arms around the other’s waist.

  “Today’s celebration is not only for me, but for two other family members. In case you haven’t heard, Emily and Chris have finally come to their senses and decided to get married.” There was a thundering round of applause and whistling. “New Mexico State Senator Christopher Delgado happens to be a serious Maxwell fan. Yeah, Chris, Emily told me.” Chris raised his right hand in acknowledgment. “The band and I would like to celebrate your recent nuptials by playing a Maxwell composition, which just happens to be a favorite of mine. Ladies, gentleman, here’s Maxwell’s ‘Fortunate.’”

  Emily looked at Chris as he rose to his feet. He extended his hand, pulling her up gently. “You know they expect us to dance with each other.”

  He led her to the patio and cradled her in a close embrace. She curved her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. Gabriel and the attractive girl who had captured her brother’s attention leaned toward each other and sang the sensual words of the love song that echoed the emotions of the couple who, despite being married and having created a new life, continued to live their separate lives.