Vows

by Rochelle Alers

  Lisabeth’s dark brown gaze was fixed on her dining partner’s face. “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about. Human resource specialists are a lot easier to replace than an accountant with your experience.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Lisabeth. You wouldn’t be where you are at GEA if you weren’t good. You of all people should know about the Old Boy’s Club.”

  She smiled. “Well, it’s not as if I don’t have other options. I could always move back to Atlanta and marry Tyrone.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Why not,” Lisabeth said glibly. “How many sisters have a brother calling them across the country and proposing marriage at least once a month?”

  Vanessa laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve got a point.”

  Lisabeth sobered. “What about you, Vanessa? What are you going to do if you’re laid off? We’re in different financial positions. I don’t have a mortgage to pay each month.”

  How could she tell her friend that the threat of being laid off did not trouble her? That she would sell her house before she lost it? That she had family in Santa Fe who would take her in? That she was married to a man who owned a home on the island of Jamaica and another residence in Palm Beach? That she was certain Joshua would take care of all of her financial needs?

  “I don’t know,” she replied as honestly as she could.

  “Enough about GEA,” Lisabeth said cheerfully. “Who are you bringing to Warren’s soirée?”

  “I’ll ask Stanton. How about yourself?”

  “I’ll probably come with Otis Nichols.”

  Vanessa shifted her eyebrows. “I thought you had stopped seeing him.”

  Lisabeth made an attractive moue. “I felt sorry for the poor fool when he came down with chicken pox at thirty-six, and I played Florence Nightingale. There was a serious epidemic at his school this past spring, and he caught it from the kids.”

  Both of them laughed, relieving the solemn mood, and concentrated on enjoying their lunch.

  Vanessa returned to her office and retrieved her voice mail. There was a message from her sister, reminding her that she was to attend her six-year-old nephew’s birthday party on Sunday afternoon at four.

  Checking her appointment book, she noted the entry. Connie would never forgive her if she missed her own godson’s birthday. She made a notation to pick up the video game Eric had not so subtly hinted that he wanted.

  She spent the remainder of the afternoon behind her door entering numbers. Taking time out to call Preston, she promised she would come to see him the following day, reassuring him that his unit was operating smoothly in his absence, and that she would keep him updated on everything.

  It wasn’t until she pulled out of the underground garage hours later that she thought about what she would tell Connie when she saw her on Sunday. She had to let her sister know that Joshua was in Santa Fe, and that they were working together. Connie would think she was crazy. There were several times over the past year that she had doubted her own sanity.

  She maneuvered through downtown Santa Fe traffic, leaving the business district behind, and drove for several miles before she realized she was being followed. The car was so far behind her that she couldn’t identify the driver. Whoever was driving knew how much distance to keep between the two automobiles.

  It was nearly eight o’clock and dusk was descending, making it difficult to see the driver’s face clearly. She recognized the black car as a Saab with a matching convertible top. Slowing, she tried making out the license plate number, but failed.

  Vanessa continued along a local two-lane highway before turning off to the one lane road leading to her house. Glancing into the rearview mirror, she breathed a sigh of relief. The black car was nowhere in sight.

  It wasn’t until she’d parked her own car in the attached garage and locked the door behind her that she felt completely safe.

  The next two days passed quickly for Vanessa. She did not get a glimpse of Joshua, but heard the quiet grumblings from other employees after they’d been sequestered in his office.

  It had become the norm for her to arrive at GEA before eight and leave twelve hours later, and she visited Preston on alternate days and updated him on her progress.

  There were nights when she was too exhausted to notice anyone following her home, but realized she’d been grinding her teeth after she locked the door behind her.

  She called Stanton, saying she couldn’t attend his sister-in-law’s birthday celebration and inviting him to accompany her to Warren’s house the following Saturday. Stanton accepted and she rang off. Even though it was a Friday night, she wanted to go to bed early because she’d planned to work the next day.

  Joshua sat in the darkened living room at the Santa Fe hotel where he was to reside for the next two months. He had watched the lengthening shadows as the sun sank down behind the nearby mountains until the last sliver of day was swallowed up by a clear blackness.

  He sat motionless, frustration mirrored on his lean face. His first week at GEA had yielded nothing. He’d learned more about the private lives of the corporation’s employees than he would ever care to know.

  Jenna had become his confidante, offering tidbits of gossip each time he called her into his office. What surprised him was that she never divulged what was deemed “classified” by Warren McDonald. There was no doubt that she could be trusted to not breach her boss’s confidentiality.

  Reaching out, he flicked on a table lamp. The soft glow of light filtered over the typical hotel furnishings. His gaze swept over the objects filling the room, and his frustration intensified. He had come to detest his existence—living in hotels and sleeping in strange beds. He wanted to come home every night to his own home and share his own bed with Vanessa. The visions of preparing meals and vacationing with her filled his days and escalated at night. His superiors had given him sixty days, and if he could he would complete the assignment in six. He wanted it over, because this time when he retired he would never come back.

  He was utilizing his managerial expertise to streamline GEA, while he had transferred total control of his own company to someone else. A cynical smile touched his mouth. He had spent all of his adult life serving others—his superior officers and his country. But now, for the first time in thirty-nine years, Joshua Kirkland—his desires and his needs—had become a priority. He would take care of himself and all that belonged to him.

  Rising in one fluid motion, he strode to the bathroom with long, determined strides.

  Vanessa awoke immediately, sitting up on her bed. The sound reverberated again throughout the downstairs. There was no mistaking the chiming of her doorbell. She turned and glanced at the lighted numbers on the clock on a bedside table. It was ten-fifty.

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed at the next chime, reaching for a celery-green silk robe. Belting it tightly around her waist, she headed toward the staircase, wondering who would come to her home at this hour. She pressed a switch on the wall at the top of the stairs, flooding the downstairs with golden light.

  The bell chimed again. “Hold on,” she mumbled under her breath as she moved quickly down the staircase.

  Peering through the security eye in the door she recognized the magnified face of Joshua staring back at her. Her pulse quickened. Why had he come to her home?

  She unlocked the door and opened it, letting in the cool nighttime mountain air and the familiar scent of his aftershave. He leaned against the entrance, his hands thrust into the pockets of a pair of well-worn jeans. Her gaze swept over the navy blue T-shirt stretched over his chest and down to his running shoes, then back to his face. Their gazes met and she felt a ripple of awareness run through her body.

  “What do you want?” she asked, unaware of how sensuous her voice sounded to him.

  Joshua smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t believe you’d ask me that. Isn’t it obvious what I want?”

  Vanessa couldn’t believe his arrog
ance. “Not here, and not tonight,” she retorted, moving quickly to close the door. She was fast, but he was faster as he braced an arm against the solid wood surface, thwarting her attempt to shut him out.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said quickly.

  “Call me tomorrow.” He didn’t move or blink, and Vanessa felt a thread of panic settle in her chest and prayed that he wouldn’t attempt to force his way into her home. She wasn’t ready for a volatile confrontation with Joshua—not tonight.

  “Look, Joshua, I’m exhausted,” she said wearily. “I need to get some sleep, because I’m planning to work tomorrow.”

  His gaze softened when he noticed the evidence of strain in her face for the first time. Her large eyes were sunken, and her cheeks gaunt.

  His arm came down slowly to his side. “What do you say that I pick you up after you’re finished and we go somewhere and relax?”

  Vanessa shook her head. “No, Joshua. It’s not going to work. You can’t rip my heart out at the office, then try to put it back when we’re away from GEA.”

  Joshua successfully concealed his disappointment. “I need to be with you.”

  “You talk about what you need, but what about me? What I don’t need is for us to sneak around with each other at night, then pretend we’re strangers during the day. Unlike you, I can’t turn my feelings off and on like a faucet. I want to be given the option of openly acknowledging you as my husband before God and the world. But until that can become a reality—stay the hell away from me!” She slammed the door and locked it as tears filled her eyes and overflowed, staining her cheeks and the silk robe.

  Turning, she braced her back against the door and sobbed softly. She loved him! As much as she didn’t want to admit it to herself, she still loved him.

  She loved a man who could be as cold and cruel as he was seductive and passionate. Pushing away from the door, she made her way slowly up the staircase, to her bedroom, and her empty bed.

  Joshua’s claim that he needed to be with her echoed her own silent yearnings. He was honest enough to verbalize it, while she had taken the coward’s way out.

  Joshua leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool wood. What he wanted to do was pound his head against the door for being a fool. He’d come to her vulnerable and with all of his emotions bared because he loved her enough to humble himself, to beg. Her rejection cut deep, deeper and more painful than the knife wound which had almost cost him his life. He was bleeding for a second time, his life’s blood flowing invisibly and weakening his resolve, until he found it difficult to draw a normal breath.

  His fingers curled into tight fists as he whispered a solemn promise. He would never give her the opportunity to reject him again.

  Chapter 22

  Vanessa watched a profusion of helium-filled balloons tied to the backs of folding chairs sway gently in the night breeze. The balloons, colorful streamers and several plastic bags filled with discarded wrapping paper, plastic cups, utensils and paper plates were the only visible remnants of what had been a raucous birthday celebration.

  Constance Blanchard-Childs flopped down on the wrought-iron, cushioned love seat beside her sister, groaning. “Whoever thought of birthday parties should be drawn and quartered.”

  Closing her eyes, Vanessa smiled. “I think it was quite successful in spite of all of the noise. Why must children scream so much?”

  “I don’t think anyone has an answer to that question.”

  Connie glanced over at her sister, seeing the fatigue in her composed features, and wondering if she was still being plagued by recurring dreams of her missing husband.

  “Is everything all right, Vanessa?”

  “What do you mean by everything?”

  “Are you still having nightmares?”

  Opening her eyes, Vanessa gave Connie a long, penetrating look. She had intended to tell her sister about Joshua, but decided to wait until after her nephew’s birthday party. Now the waiting was over.

  “There’s no need for me to dream about Joshua anymore,” she began cryptically, “because he’s here.”

  There was a stunned, pregnant silence before Connie found her voice. “What!”

  Vanessa slowly and methodically related everything, including his late night visit to her home.

  Connie’s gaping mouth closed as she shook her head. “I can’t believe you didn’t let him in.”

  “Why? So he could climb into my bed!”

  “Did you think that maybe it wasn’t about sex?”

  Vanessa felt her temper flare. “Sex brought us together, and it was because of sex that we married. And the sex was good, Connie. It was hot, raw, unbridled and delightfully satisfying. But it’s not enough to base a marriage on or build a future. I need more than the love he professes.” Her lower lip trembled when she sought to stem the tears welling up in her eyes. “I need to trust him.

  “How do you explain it, Connie?” she continued vehemently. “I can accept his being assaulted, but I can’t accept the amount of time it took for him to let me know that he was still alive. Why couldn’t he have called me instead of showing up mysteriously at a meeting he knew I would attend? He knew where I worked, and it would’ve been easy enough for him to get my office extension and call me with some advance warning. He had no way of knowing whether I would blurt out his name before he was introduced.”

  “Maybe he counted on you being too shocked to say anything,” Connie rationalized.

  “And he was right.”

  Running her fingers through her blunt cut hair, Vanessa closed her eyes and tried slowing down her runaway pulse. “Why does he have to work for GEA?”

  “From what you’ve told me, Vanessa, he doesn’t work for GEA. Didn’t you say that he’s a consultant? And to my knowledge, consultants aren’t employees.”

  Her eyes opened quickly and she stared at Connie. “You’re right! And that means that we don’t have to keep our marriage a secret. It would also stop Jenna Grant from throwing herself at him. When I saw her practically sitting in his lap the other day I wanted to slap her blind and snatch her baldheaded.”

  Throwing back her head, Connie squealed with laughter. “You sound just a little bit jealous, sister. Could it be that you’re in love with the man you claim as your husband?”

  Vanessa felt heat flood her face. She’d given herself away. “I never said that I didn’t love him.”

  Connie cocked her head at an angle. “So, you didn’t marry him just for the sex?”

  Staring up at the star-littered summer sky, she shook her head slowly. “No. I consented to become his wife because I loved him. And as crazy as it may sound, I still do.”

  Connie draped an arm around her younger sister’s shoulders. “It’s not crazy at all. How many people meet and know within days that they want to spend the rest of their lives with each other?”

  “I don’t know about spending the rest of our lives with each other.”

  Connie’s delicately arched eyebrows drew together. “Why not?”

  “Joshua’s the only man I’ve known who can bring out the worst in me. One wrong word from him can set me off, and I’m ready to explode.”

  Connie’s frown disappeared. Resting her head against her sister’s, she said softly, “It’s called passion.”

  “I think I prefer the other form of passion.”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  The two women sat under the stars for another hour, talking quietly. Vanessa listened intently to her sister who was trained in social work, as Connie objectively analyzed all that she had revealed to her. Their conversation took a different turn when Roger Childs emerged from the large house and joined them.

  Roger ran a hand over his face and let out his breath slowly. “No more, Connie. This is the last time we’re going to have a kids’ party at the house.”

  “You said the same thing last year, darling,” Connie reminded her husband. “The kids come here because of the pool.”

  “I’m goin
g to fill it in.”

  Connie and Vanessa looked at each other and shared a secret smile. Roger Childs’s size and gruff demeanor were deceptive. He was compassionate, a Santa Fe cardiologist who had earned a reputation as one of the best surgeons in the Southwest.

  “You’re spoiling Eric,” Roger continued, wagging a finger at his sister-in-law. “He asks for one video game and you buy him three.”

  “That’s because I don’t know an Xbox from a PlayStation. Besides, as his aunt and godmother I have a right to spoil him.”

  “Once you’re married and have your own children we’ll see if you’re going to be so indulgent,” he countered.

  The two women shared a knowing look. What Roger did not know was that Vanessa was married, and that her first wedding anniversary had come and gone.

  When Vanessa walked into her office early Monday morning she spied a beautifully curved, crystal vase filled with a profusion of pale pink flowers. As she made her way slowly to the desk, her gaze widened when she recognized the same variety of flowers that had made up the bouquet Joshua had sent her at La Mérida. Unlike the other bouquet, this one had been delivered without a card. A sensual smile softened her mouth and her expression as she leaned over and inhaled the heady fragrance of a delicate orchid.

  Reaching over, she picked up the telephone and dialed Joshua’s extension. His voice-mail switched over after four rings. She waited for his recorded message to end. “Mr. Kirkland, please call Miss Blanchard,” she said softly into the receiver.

  She hung up at the same time Shane walked through the door. Her smile was dazzling. “Good morning. You’re in early this morning.”

  Shane gestured toward the vase. “I suppose it is a good morning for you. Very nice.” He winked at her. “Are you celebrating something we should know about?”

  “Of course not.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. “I hope you didn’t come to work this early to engage in office gossip.”

  He stared at her with rounded eyes behind the lenses of his glasses. “No way. I need the backup on the Kroff account.”