No Regrets

by JoAnn Ross

  “Then He should be extremely proud of you,” Molly muttered as she glared at the miserable hand Theo had dealt her.

  “I have no doubt about it,” Theo said cheerfully as she laid down a five card straight of hearts.

  Secretly, Molly was grateful Theo hadn’t reined in her typically outrageous behavior on her account. Ever since the rape, everyone had been treating her with kid gloves. It was definitely a relief to have someone finally behaving as if Molly were a normal person.

  Five minutes later, she’d lost another hand. “The Lord does love a cheerful giver,” Theo said encouragingly as Molly counted out the dimes and quarters.

  “Well, you’ve cleaned me out. So I guess that leaves us no choice but to tune in to Dick Clark’s New Year’s countdown at Times Square.”

  “Now, let’s not be in such a hurry.” Theo swept the change into her gold leather duffel bag. “How about I advance you a stake?”

  “So I can lose even more?”

  “You never know.” Theo shuffled the cards with a flair that would have put an old-time Mississippi riverboat gambler to shame. “Maybe you’re about to get lucky.”

  Molly knew, without a single doubt, that Theo was about to start cheating to let her win. Since that held scant appeal, she was trying to figure out a way to turn Reece’s aunt down when the doorbell chimed.

  Theo left the room and returned two minutes later with Alex Kovaleski in tow. “You’re off the hook, kiddo,” she told Molly. “Gorgeous here has offered to take your place at the table.”

  “Why do I feel like Wild Bill Hickok just before he drew that deadman’s hand,” Alex drawled. He bent down and kissed Molly’s cheek, kindly ignoring the way she involuntarily flinched at the male touch. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

  Embarrassed by her behavior, Molly managed to smile up at him. “I’m a lot poorer than I was two hours ago. Theo cheats.”

  “Hell, if the woman tries it with me, I’ll arrest her. After all, gambling’s still illegal in California.”

  His gunmetal gray eyes sparkled with the amusement Molly had first seen directed Theodora’s way at Lena and Reece’s wedding. Although they were two totally dissimilar individuals, it was obvious they found each other more than a little entertaining.

  “It figures you’d threaten me with that.” Theo folded her arms over her breasts. “Did I ever tell you that I’m not overly fond of authority figures?”

  “Several times.” He folded his own arms. “Did I happen to mention that one of these days I’ll win you over with my unrelenting charm?”

  Theo snorted. “You did. And I recall telling you that better men have tried.”

  “Other men perhaps,” he said with that same unshakable confidence that had once made him a good hostage negotiator. “But not better.”

  His eyes warmed to pewter as they skimmed over her. Although she was staying home, she’d dressed for the evening in a colorful full skirt, white satin blouse and glittering beaded vest. Molly half expected her to break out a pair of castanets and start dancing at any moment.

  “You really are looking better than ever, Theodora,” Alex said. “And although you looked great as a blonde, your new hairdo is dynamite. You remind me of Rita Hayworth in her prime.”

  To Molly’s amazement, Theo blushed to the roots of her newly dyed red hair like a schoolgirl. “Compliments like that will get you anywhere you like, Officer.”

  Molly decided it was time to give the couple some privacy. “Well,” she said, pretending to stifle a yawn, “it’s been a long day. I think I’ll go upstairs to my room.”

  “Don’t you want to watch Dick Clark bring in the New Year?” Theo asked a bit too quickly.

  Molly was greatly amused by the way she seemed suddenly nervous at the idea of being alone with Alex.

  “Why bother? He’s not going to look any different. And the ball will come down on time, the same way it always does. No, I’d rather get some sleep and be fresh to watch the parade tomorrow morning.”

  “We haven’t even popped the champagne yet. It’s Cristal,” Theo coaxed.

  “I’m not supposed to be drinking while I’m on medication,” Molly reminded her. “Why don’t you share it with Alex?”

  “I’d rather have a beer,” he said. “If you have one.”

  Theo tossed her head in a way reminiscent of Hayworth’s famed Gilda. “There you go, with that Mr. Macho routine again.”

  “It’s not a routine.” His grin was quick and wicked, and even Molly, who’d always considered this man the closest thing she’d ever known to a loving father, couldn’t help noticing that it held considerable masculine charm. “And believe me, sweetheart, I’m just getting started.”

  When Theo shot back that she hadn’t left a glorious beach on Thebes to come all the way to California just to be hit on by some beer-drinking civil servant, Molly decided it was definitely time to call it a night.

  She was not surprised when neither Alex nor Theodora noticed her departure.

  High atop the Westin Bonaventure hotel, Lena swayed in her husband’s arms, trying to get up her nerve for the conversation to come. She’d made the decision to put the past behind her, to begin the New Year with a clean slate, and that meant it was time—past time—to tell Reece about that long-ago Christmas Eve night.

  His arms were wrapped loosely around her waist, his lips were nuzzling the sensitive flesh behind her ear. “You are,” he murmured, “the most beautiful woman in the room.”

  “Flatterer.” She tilted her head back to allow his mouth access to her neck.

  Reece readily obliged. “It’s the truth.”

  “What about her?” Lena asked as a vision in black swirled by.

  Reece paid no attention to the stunning redhead. “She can’t hold a candle to you.”

  Even as she knew that wasn’t the truth, Lena laughed softly with delight. “You’re prejudiced.”

  “You bet.” He drew her closer. “I’m mad about you, Lena Longworth. And if it wasn’t for the unfortunate fact that the Chief of staff of Mercy Sam just happens to be dancing five feet away, I’d drag you beneath the dessert table and ravish you.”

  The idea was deliciously wicked. And inviting. Tempted to put off the carefully planned conversation until tomorrow, Lena reluctantly reminded herself that she’d already waited far too long.

  “Being ravished by the sexiest man in the room sounds wonderful,” she admitted breathlessly as he dragged her against him, inviting her to feel his erection. Her body warmed and softened in automatic feminine response. “But there are a few things I need to tell you.”

  Although he’d been fantasizing about unzipping the froth of gilt-threaded ivory chiffon, then running his lips down her delicate spine, kissing each vertebrae in turn, something in his wife’s tone garnered Reece’s unwilling attention.

  “Are you all right?” He knew she’d had an appointment with her gynecologist. “You told me that your exam went well.”

  “I’m fine.” That was the truth, so far as it went. Yet another thing they’d have to discuss tonight, Lena thought. “Really,” she insisted when she viewed something that looked amazingly like fear in his eyes. “But we really do need to talk. I was hoping we could go downstairs to our room.”

  Reece had been hoping the same thing. The irony was that when he’d booked the suite, he’d had a much more romantic scenario than talking in mind. “Whatever you want, darling.”

  It was what he always said. But as they walked hand in hand across the dance floor, Lena wondered if Reece would still want her. Once he’d heard her story.

  Tessa watched the attractive couple leave the ballroom. Although it was more than obvious that they were madly in love, something told her that the reason for their early departure was not a midnight tryst, but something far more serious. She’d watched their discussion, witnessed the concern, followed by resolve move across the man’s handsome features.

  “I’m beginning to feel ignored,” Jason murmured in he
r ear. “You’ve been watching that guy all night.”

  “I’m sorry.” She smiled up at him. “Actually, I’ve been watching his date. She looks so familiar.” Of course that couldn’t be, Tessa had been telling herself. After all, she’d only been in Los Angeles a week. “Do you know either of them?”

  “I’ve never seen them before in my life.” He watched the sway of the woman’s hips in the full short skirt and knew he’d remember those long, wraparound legs.

  “Perhaps she’s an actress.” She was certainly attractive enough, Tessa thought. Her dark auburn hair glowed like autumn leaves highlighted by a benevolent sun and her green eyes tilted upward, catlike, at the corners. Perhaps the woman had been a bit player in some movie or television program she’d seen.

  “She’s good-looking enough to get work,” Jason agreed. He drew his head back and gave her a long assessing look. “But you are, without a doubt, the most ravishingly beautiful woman here tonight.”

  The way he was looking down at her, as if she was a raw piece of clay he’d molded to his own personal preference, made her feel a bit uneasy. However, Tessa couldn’t deny that the analogy definitely fit. Not only had he chosen her dress, he’d selected her jewelry—borrowed from Fred Hayman—her hairstyle and even her makeup, which had been applied by a woman who was alleged to have done Susan Sarandon’s makeup in the movie The Witches of Eastwick.

  The dramatic makeover had not been in vain. From the looks she’d been getting all night, it was obvious his creation had met with instant approval.

  “Hey, kid,” a voice behind her said, “how about giving me an opportunity to show Tessa which brother inherited the dancing talent?”

  Jason grinned down at Tessa. “Whatever you do, don’t flatter him. His head’s already big enough.” Without asking if she wanted to change partners, he handed her over to his brother, leaving Tessa feeling once again like a piece of property.

  It was a night made for romance. The glass wall in the hotel room provided a dazzling view of the city lights. A late-afternoon rain had washed away the smog, and the stars shone like diamonds in the midnight black sky.

  “Would you like some champagne?” Reece had ordered a bottle of Dom Pérignon and caviar to be waiting when they arrived back at the suite. A splendid bouquet of long-stemmed red roses had been delivered, as well.

  The story Lena was determined to tell Reese wasn’t exactly a cause for celebration and she debated turning down the offer of champagne. Then decided that a little bottled courage might be in order, after all.

  “Thank you. That sounds wonderful.”

  Although the words fit the occasion, her expression reminded Reece of a condemned prisoner on the way to the electric chair. The fear he’d felt earlier rose again. Again he tamped it back down and concentrated on opening the wine. The cork came out of the dark green bottle with a discreet pop and a hiss of vapor.

  “You do that very well,” Lena murmured. She looked at Reece, so handsome in his custom-tailored tux, marveled not for the first time at the easy sophistication of this man she’d married, and wondered why he hadn’t chosen a sleek, elegant woman from his own world for his wife.

  “It’s all in the wrist.” He had no idea if that was the case. But he felt the need to say something to ease the strain building between them. He poured the sparkling wine into the flutes, then handed one to her.

  “To the best wife any man could ever wish for,” he said, lifting his glass in a toast.

  “To the best husband,” she corrected quietly.

  Reece wished to hell she’d smiled when she’d said that. “How about a compromise? To us. And a New Year filled with love and laughter.”

  Reece swore inwardly when he watched the suspicious sheen of moisture suddenly appear in her eyes.

  “To us.” It was little more than a whisper. Lena took a sip. Although the sparkling wine danced like laughter on her tongue, her mood remained bleak. When the suffocating silence settled over them again, she began nervously rubbing a crimson rose petal between her thumb and index finger, releasing the blossom’s sweet fragrance.

  Never having been one for game playing, Reece decided that as much as he wanted to let Lena take her time with whatever it was she wanted to say, he’d go nuts if they didn’t just cut to the chase.

  “Is this about your visit to Dr. Carstairs?”

  “No.” She abandoned plucking petals from the roses and began running her finger nervously up the crystal stem of the champagne flute. “Yes.” She shook her head. “No.”

  Reece forced a smile he was a very long way from feeling. Happy goddamn New Year. He wondered what magic it would take to make his wife happy.

  “Which is it, sweetheart?” Not wanting to make things worse than they already appeared to be, he managed, just barely, to keep his building frustration from his voice.

  Her bare shoulders slumped. “Dr. Carstairs only confirmed what all the other doctors have already told me. That there’s no way I can ever conceive a child.”

  She’d already shared the unhappy news with Molly, who’d assured her that her infertility, possibly due to a sexually transmitted pelvic infection acquired before her marriage, had not been punishment from God for her promiscuous behavior. But still, having been brought up under the stern guidance of the St. Joseph nuns, Lena couldn’t help wondering.

  “I always wanted children,” she murmured, looking out over the city, wondering how many people were sitting home alone, wishing they had someone—anyone—to love them. New Year’s, she knew from personal experience, could be one of the loneliest nights of the year. That thought reminded her of all the strangers she’d gone to bed with, just to avoid being alone. “I always dreamed of becoming the mother I never had.”

  “I know how important having a child is to you, sweetheart,” Reece said carefully, feeling as if he were making his way across a deadly conversational minefield. “But I’ve never felt any great need to perpetuate the Longworth name. And we could adopt.”

  “I suppose that’s one possibility.”

  She sighed and sat down in the suede chair across the room. Although he longed to take her in his arms, Reece took the fact that she’d chosen not to sit next to him on the sofa as a sign she needed her own space to tell him what was bothering her.

  “You never asked how my mother and father died.”

  “I figured you’d tell me. When you were ready.”

  She smiled at that. A soft sad smile that tore at something elemental inside Reece. “You are so incredible. I’ve never known anyone with such patience.”

  For some reason, her words rankled. “Dammit, Lena, don’t make me into any kind of saint. Because I’m not. I’m just a man. Who loves you with a depth I never would have imagined possible. I’ve tried to come up with a word for how I feel. Obsession comes close. But it’s still not enough.”

  She felt the traitorous tears overbrimming her eyes. “I’m never going to make it through this if you keep making me cry.”

  Reece managed, just barely, to remain where he was, watching with admiration as she drew in a deep, calming breath. She’d changed since Molly’s attack, the emotionally frail young bride he’d married had begun to show signs of becoming an independent woman.

  Lena turned her gaze away from him and looked back out the window at the lights of the city below them. “I can’t remember a time when my parents weren’t fighting.” Her voice was soft, little more than a whisper, but Reece had no difficulty hearing it in the hushed room. “About everything. And anything. My father was a big man. With a big hairy belly that always stuck out from beneath his sweat-stained undershirt. And big hands that loved to hit little girls. But of course, I was very little, so perhaps he wasn’t so big at all. Perhaps he just seemed that way….

  “Did I ever tell you I had a kitten?”

  “No,” Reece said carefully, feeling like he’d just entered one of those dark carnival fun houses that weren’t really any fun at all but filled with monsters who’d gl
eefully leap out and scare the piss out of little kids.

  “Her name was Miss Puss in Boots.” She turned toward him, her eyes as flat as her voice. “Because she had white paws. Like little boots. I found her in the alley and brought her home. Molly helped me hide her in our bedroom closet and every night I’d let her out of her box and she’d sneak beneath the blanket and curl up next to me and purr. I used to listen to that sound, like a small warm little engine, and it helped me block out the sound of the fighting.”

  She fell silent. Reece waited.

  “One night he came in to drag us out of bed for some perceived misbehavior. I can’t remember what, and it probably wasn’t anything at all. Drinking always made him paranoid and he’d imagine all sorts of things we might have done. Or even thought.

  “Anyway, he found Miss Puss. He pulled her out of the bed, and Molly tried to stop him. He knocked her away and she hit her head on the corner of the metal bed frame. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget that sound.

  “She still has the scar on her temple. It’s faint, but if you know it’s there, you can see it. There was so much blood, I thought she was going to die. But of course she didn’t….

  “Then he strangled Miss Puss with his big hairy hands. And threatened to do the same to us if we ever brought another animal into his house.”

  As an ER doctor, Reece thought he’d seen all the evils humans could do to one another. But never had such horror hit so close to home.

  “My God, Lena—”

  “No.” She held up a hand. “Please, just let me get this all out. Because it’s taken me years to get up the nerve to say it out loud, and if I stop, I may never be able to do it again.”

  Reece tamped down his building fury and nodded.

  “I think he raped our mother that night. I didn’t understand the sounds coming through the wall from their bedroom at the time. But now I believe that’s what happened. Then he left the house to go out drinking.

  “Molly and I tried to see if Mama was all right—we could hear her crying—but she wouldn’t open her bedroom door. She told us to go to bed and everything would be all right in the morning…. She always said that. But of course it never was.”