by Francis Ray
“Justine.”
The needy way he said her name made her feel powerful, an emotion she had thought never to feel again. She stood before him naked to the waist and unashamed.
She started to lower her head to kiss his muscled chest, but he stepped back. Her head lifted, questions formed in her eyes.
“Bed,” he gritted out. Locking one powerful arm around her waist, he grabbed the top of the comforter and jerked. Pillows flew in every direction.
Justine’s laughter at his exuberance was short-lived as she found herself in bed with Dalton towering over her. The intensity in his eyes shocked and delighted her. His head lowered to her nipple. She watched the slow descent, her breath held. At the first hot, wet touch, she quivered inside.
His hands and mouth pleasured her, driving her closer to the point of no return, and he had yet to bring them together. When he did, she arched up, her arms and legs wrapped around him.
“Heaven. Sweet heaven,” he murmured as he stroked her, loved her. His mouth fastened on hers, his hands cupping her hips. She was helpless in his arms and wanted it no other way. Pleasure mounted until it was almost unbearable. She lost herself in his loving, then went over. He followed.
Afterward, her breathing labored, she opened her eyes to find his trained on her, searching. Without words she knew what he wanted—to know if she felt guilty. Lifting her hand, she palmed his bearded cheek. “That life is over, this one has just begun.”
His forehead lowered to hers. Once again she felt his body tremble against hers. “I don’t want to lose you again.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Wanting to reassure him, she kissed him, reached for that part of him that had given her so much pleasure, felt it surge to life in her hand.
“You read my mind.” His voice was hoarse, strained. He slipped inside of her, then took them both on a slow ride to paradise again.
Brianna woke up Tuesday deliciously satiated. Patrick hadn’t left her bed until early that morning. He’d been as reluctant as she to leave, but he wanted to get an early start on getting the boat ready for their outing after she came home from work today. Besides, she’d been feeling tired lately, and he wanted her to rest.
Both knew that with him there it wasn’t likely to happen. She’d teased him that it was his fault for keeping her up at night. He’d said he’d make—
Her thoughts abruptly halted as an intense wave of nausea hit. With one hand over her mouth, the other on her churning stomach, she raced to the bathroom. She made it just in time.
Finished, she went to the vanity, stared at her reflection, and shuddered. She looked awful with her pale face and droopy eyelids. She was glad Patrick hadn’t seen her this way. Men hated to be around sick women. Her father, who dearly adored her mother, was the same way. He’d said it was because it made him feel helpless that he couldn’t ease her discomfort and make her feel better.
Bracing herself with one hand on the cold marble, she rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth. Thank goodness the nausea was gone, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling this drained. Every movement was an effort.
Going into her lingerie drawer, she picked up the first things she touched. Today matching from the skin out didn’t matter. In fact, if she didn’t have a full schedule she’d call Matilda and cancel all of her appointments and crawl back in bed.
In the bathroom, she grabbed her shower cap and adjusted the multiple sprays. She didn’t feel like standing, but she needed the bracing effect of the jets. As worn as she felt, she’d probably go to sleep if she got in the Roman tub.
Once she showered, she dressed, feeling as if every move was an effort. Picking up her attache case, she left to catch the elevator to the fourth floor. She and Patrick had easily gotten into the habit of him cooking for her every morning and some nights. A couple of times, Dalton and Justine had joined them.
Getting off the elevator, she slowly walked to Patrick’s unit and rang the doorbell, hoping he’d get there before she slid to the floor. She swept her hand over her face. She must have picked up a mean bug. She never got sick.
The door swung open. Patrick took one look at her and the playful smile on his face vanished. “What’s—”
Nausea hit without warning. Dropping the attache case, she pushed him aside and rushed to the bathroom. When it was over, she brushed her teeth, glad Patrick had had the foresight to buy her a toothbrush. He’d also picked up a comb and other toiletries for her that he kept in his bathroom. She made a couple of half-hearted swipes through her hair, but found it too much of an effort, and put the silver-plated comb back in the cabinet and left the room.
Patrick was waiting just outside the bathroom. For once he was silent and simply stared at her. “I must have the summer flu. I hope I don’t give it to you.”
“I don’t think you will.”
The way he said it had her frown matching his. She was too tired to try and figure it out.
“Come on in the other room and sit down.” As if she were fragile, he led her into the great room and sat her on the sofa.
The moment her bottom touched the supple leather her eyes closed. Calling Matilda and canceling was becoming more and more appealing by the minute.
“Brianna, you were sick yesterday morning as well,” Patrick said as he held her hand.
“Please don’t remind me. I just hope this passes soon.”
“I don’t think it will.”
Her eyes blinked open. He was staring at her again with those intense eyes of his, but this time they made her feel uneasy. She hadn’t seen him look so serious since he thought she might be a threat to his niece.
“There is no flu or virus that affects a person just in the morning.”
She started to tell him she must have a new strain, then felt her world tilt. The implication of what he was getting at slowly sank in. She was good with facts and figures. It was no trouble to think back to the last time she and Jackson had been intimate. They’d used a condom. She hadn’t been on the pill because she hadn’t expected to be in a relationship. Since she’d been with Patrick she’d already been to Justine’s ob/gyn for her well-woman’s checkup. She’d planned on starting the pills after her period started.
The reason she was late had nothing to do with job-related stress, as she and her gynecologist had thought.
Tears clogged her throat and filled her eyes. “Oh, God.”
“Sweetheart, don’t cry,” Patrick said, taking her into his arms and holding her tightly. “Don’t cry.”
She couldn’t help it. She’d seen the stunned expression on his face. He was just as shocked as she was. What was she going to do? She was pregnant with Jackson’s baby.
“Brianna, please stop crying and tell me what is the matter so I can help,” Justine said, sitting on the coffee table in front of Brianna, who was curled up in a ball on the sofa. Justine had come as soon as Brianna called. “I know it’s not your parents, because I called to check on them before I came over here.”
Brianna stopped crying long enough to ask, “You didn’t mention anything, did you?”
“Of course not.” Justine brushed Brianna’s hair from her face. “After all this time I know how to keep quiet. Now, please. Is it Patrick?”
That set Brianna back on another crying jag. Standing, Justine pushed the coffee table aside and knelt by Brianna’s head. “Did you have a fight? That—”
“I’m pregnant.”
The two words left Justine momentarily at a loss for words. “That can’t be. You and Patrick haven’t been together long enough for you to know that.”
Brianna sniffed and looked miserable. “Jackson.”
“Are you sure?” Justine asked.
Brianna bit her lip before answering. “I’ve been nauseous two mornings in a row, and I’m tired all the time.” She swallowed. “You said the other night that I was moving slower than usual.”
“And you pointed out that it was because of Patrick.”
Brianna flushed.
“What have I done? I’m pregnant with one man’s child and having an affair with another.”
“You had no way of knowing,” Justine said sensibly. “All ties with Jackson had been severed.”
“Except one.” Brianna’s hand cupped her stomach.
She looked so miserable that Justine wanted to help as Brianna’d helped her. “Perhaps the pregnancy test was faulty.”
“I haven’t taken one yet.”
Justine was up and grabbing her purse from the end table. “There’s a drugstore at the corner. I’ll be back with one as soon as I can.”
Hope shone in Brianna’s eyes. “You—you think it might be a virus?”
Justine wanted to say yes, but she didn’t want to give Brianna false hope. “Let’s just be sure.” Opening the door, she was gone.
The stick turned blue in three seconds. Positive. So did the stick on the second test of another brand. Brianna stared at the proof of her carelessness and felt tears sting her eyes again. “I can’t be pregnant. I have too much to do.”
“You’ll find a way.” Justine put her arms around Brianna and led her back to the bed to sit down. “You’re getting undressed and under the covers. I’ll call Matilda and tell her you’re not coming in.”
Tears streamed down Brianna’s cheeks. “What will Mama and Daddy think of me?”
“They love you, Brianna,” Justine said, sure of that if nothing else. She picked up the phone on the bedside table and called Brianna’s office. “Matilda. Good morning. Brianna isn’t feeling her best today and is taking off for a couple of days. Could you please reschedule her appointments? Yes, I knew you’d take care of it. Yes, I’ll tell her. Good-bye.” Justine hung up the phone. “She sends her best, and said for you to get well soon.”
“Some women have morning sickness through their entire pregnancy,” Brianna whispered. “I can’t do this. I simply can’t.”
Justine sat on the bed and hugged her. “Take one day at a time.”
“It sounded better when I was telling that to you.” Brianna laid her head on Justine’s shoulder.
“If you can joke, you’ll be all right. I’ll get a gown.” Justine searched until she found a long gown with cap sleeves, and then came back to the bed.
Brianna let Justine help her undress, and then crawled under the covers, silently wishing she were dreaming. “You can go now.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Justine tucked the covers around Brianna’s neck. “I’m going to fix you some soup and the Seven-Up I picked up at the store.”
“You knew it would be positive?” Brianna asked.
“It’s best being prepared.” She patted Brianna on the shoulder. “First the soup, then I’ll call our gynecologist and get you an appointment.”
Miserable, Brianna scooted down in bed. “I don’t want anyone to know.”
“You know Dr. Woodson and his nurses can keep a confidence. If not, you can take them to court,” Justine said.
Brianna knew she was expected to smile, but couldn’t. “He must hate me.”
“Jackson?”
“Patrick,” Brianna clarified. “It wasn’t just sex. I care about him. What must he think of me? You should have seen his face.”
“He cares about you, too.” Justine sat back down on the side of the bed. “Give him some time.”
“All the time in the world won’t fix this, and we both know it,” Brianna said, misery in each word.
“You never know,” Justine said. “I thought my life was over when I caught Andrew cheating. Then after his accident, when I was trapped into playing the loving wife, I was even more miserable. Now, I have Dalton in my life.”
Tears formed in Brianna’s eyes. “I used to have Patrick.”
“Don’t throw what you had away until you two can talk about this,” Justine suggested.
Brianna wiped the tears from her eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s over.”
Justine stood. “You’re too stubborn to try to change your mind. I’ll go get the food and make you a doctor’s appointment.”
As soon as Justine left the room, Brianna reached for the phone and dialed a number she had hoped never to use again.
“Jackson Hewitt.”
Her hand clamped on the phone. “Jackson, this is Brianna.”
There was a long pause, giving her the opportunity to speak again. “It’s urgent that you come to Charleston as soon as possible. It concerns our future.”
“You’re coming back? Elton talks about you all the time. You could score that partnership, and we could go places,” he said, excitement in his voice.
How could she have been so wrong about a man? “Can you come today or tomorrow? The sooner we talk, the better.”
“I’m headed to meet a client whose firm will bring millions to us, but I’ll call my secretary as soon as I hang up and have her get me tickets.” He laughed. “Barring that, if I tell Elton that you’re coming back, he’ll let me have the company jet. He’s that gone on you.”
“I admire him, too.” And wish I could say the same thing about you.
“Meeting with Günter and your call makes my day. I’ll have my secretary call and let you know when to expect me. ’Bye.”
“ ’Bye.” Brianna put the phone back in the charger. She had been seconds behind a client. At least neither of them had lied and said they had missed each other. That had to count for something. She just wished she knew what.
Although she had been expecting Jackson, Brianna jumped when the doorbell rang. His secretary had called less than thirty minutes after he’d hung up to say she had booked him a flight out after his last appointment the following day. A car service would have him at her place no later than nine that night.
Brianna glanced at the clock on the end table as she passed on the way to the door. Eight fifty-eight. “Hello, Jackson.”
“Brianna, honey.” His arms opened wide; he reached for her. She stepped out of his reach. He frowned and came inside. “What’s the matter?” His frown deepened. “Are you sick?”
“No.” She waved him to a chair.
He didn’t take it. “I was hoping you can be on board next week. Günter is resisting. With you on the team, he’ll sign on the dotted line and make us both shoo-ins for that junior partnership.”
Since he wasn’t wasting time presenting his case, neither was she. “I’m pregnant.”
His head jerked back. Shock reflected in his face. “You’re kidding?”
She folded her arms. How had she ever thought he was intelligent? “No, I’m not kidding.”
“You’re not going to pin this kid on me. We only slept together a couple of times!” he shouted, loosening his silk tie.
“Haven’t you heard, once is enough?”
“Damn!” He paced away, then whirled back. “This is your fault. You’re probably one of those scattered women who forget to take her pills.”
Her arms came to her sides. “I can understand shock and anger, but I won’t take you calling me names. This is your baby, so get over yourself.”
He stared at her, his chest heaving in anger. “Have you thought of an ab—”
“Don’t even think of saying it,” she said, her body vibrating with anger.
He held up his hands in submission. “All right, I’ll support it, but that’s all. If you think you can trap me into marriage, think again. I’m going to the top and I won’t be hampered by a clinging wife and a rug rat.”
Brianna took a menacing step toward him. Rage almost consumed her. He took a step back, but she kept coming until they were inches apart. “You’re right. You won’t be bothered by a clinging wife or a rug rat because my baby and I are neither of those things. But listen and listen well.” She punctuated each word with a sharp jab of her finger to his chest. “You’ll set up a trust fund compensatory with your salary, the amount I know very well, or we’ll see each other in court. A paternity suit would not help your climb.”
“You—”
“I dare
you to say it,” she challenged.
Whirling, he muttered an expletive halfway out the slamming door.
Brianna’s hand cupped her stomach. “Sorry I didn’t choose you a better father.” Sighing, she picked up her purse from the end of the sofa. There were two more people she had to tell.
All the way to her parents’ house she debated on the best way to tell them, but as soon as her mother opened the door, the tears began to fall. Her father rushed out of his study to see what the commotion was.
“Are you hurt?”
“Did you have a fight with Patrick?”
“If only I had,” she gulped, trying not to think of what might have been. The pregnancy was unplanned, but she’d give her baby all the love a child deserved.
“Let’s go into the den,” her father said, his arm around her waist. He stopped when he felt resistance.
The most difficult thing in her life was looking at them when she said, “I let you down.”
“With a case?” her father wanted to know.
Her mother said nothing, just briefly shut her eyes. She knew.
“A man. I’m pregnant with Jackson’s baby, and there won’t be a wedding.” Tears started falling again. “I’m so sorry. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. If you want me to leave—”
“Hush that nonsense,” her mother said, hugging her. “Things happen for a reason.”
Her eyes sought her father, her idol. It would kill her if he thought less of her, less of the innocent baby she carried. “Mother is right as usual.” He wrapped his long arms around her. “I won’t lie and say I don’t wish the wedding had come first, but things do happen for a reason. We love you, and I don’t want you to ever think differently.”
Too full to speak, she nodded.
“Have you been to the doctor?” Her mother was always practical.
“This morning. I’m seven weeks,” she said. “I’m due in March.”
“You look tired. You’re spending the night. Go on upstairs, and get dressed for bed. I’ll bring you a tray,” her mother told her.
Her room hadn’t changed since she’d moved out after she’d graduated from college. “I’d rather stay down here with you and Daddy for a while, if I could?” she asked. Perhaps if she wasn’t alone her fears wouldn’t be so great. She wanted her baby, but she didn’t want to be an unwed mother.
