by Leanne Banks
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Contents:
Prologue
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
© 2004
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Prologue
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This man was one big no-no, but Nicola Granville was having a tough time saying anything but yes.
"We said we weren't going to do this anymore," Nicola said as she reluctantly dragged her lips away from Abraham Danforth's firm mouth. With her back against his cold office door, Abe's body felt deliciously warm and strong against hers.
He slid his hands over her hips and pulled her against him. "The election's over, Nic. I won. Why fight it anymore?"
She could name several big reasons, one from her past, which would knock the mighty Abe Danforth, former Navy SEAL, CEO and newly elected senator, right on his surprisingly rock-hard rear end. Abe had turned out to be a surprise to her in many ways. Not many fifty-five-year-old men still had a body that could make most women look twice.
Nicola tried to shake off the familiar melting sensation in her body and brain. "It still wouldn't look right for you to be having an affair with your campaign manager. I'm an expert on these things. After all we've been through, you should know that by now."
"I know you've taken what could have been egg on my face and made everything sunny-side up. Who else could handle a candidate with a beautiful, but illegitimate, daughter that comes out of my past? A son falsely accused of criminal involvement? Who else—"
Shaking her head, Nicola covered his mouth with her hand. "Don't go humble on me now. Your family may have presented some unusual situations for me to manage, but the kind of man you are made my job a lot easier than it could have been. You're the real deal, Abe Danforth. That's why you were elected."
"I refuse to argue about this. I know you helped me get elected. But there's always been more between us, even from the beginning."
Nicola felt the addictive sizzle as she stared into Abe's blue eyes. Sometimes she felt as if looking into his eyes was like looking at the sun too long. If she wasn't careful, she would become blinded, in this case to reality.
She closed her eyes, still too aware of his scent and strength. "I told you I'm not going to Washington with you."
"But you promised you would stay with me during the transition until I'm sworn in," he reminded her, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek.
Nicola opened her eyes. His tenderness made her ache. "Yes, I did," she said, suspecting this would be one of the hardest promises she'd ever had to keep.
"So I have time to change your mind."
"Don't count on it." She wasn't trying to issue a challenge, just the truth.
"Oh, but I am." He slid his leg between her thighs and an image of the intimacy they'd shared taunted her.
Nicola bit her lip and pushed against his chest. "We agreed we wouldn't do this anymore. It was a mistake for us to—" she broke off and swallowed "—get involved this way."
He studied her for a long moment. "Are you saying you regret it?"
No. Yes. No. Yes. "Abe, we've been through this. I don't want what you and I have worked so hard to accomplish to be tainted because—"
"Because what? Because I'm so much older than you are?"
Nicola rolled her eyes. "That's not it and you know it."
"Maybe," he said, clearly not convinced. "I'm almost twenty years older than you."
"Your body sure doesn't seem like it," she muttered under her breath. She never ceased to be amazed by his stamina in and out of bed. She shook her head. "I'm not going to let you talk circles around me. Even though the election is over, it's still my job to make the best public relations choices for you and, trust me, I would be your worst PR nightmare yet."
"I have a hard time connecting the word nightmare with you, Nic," he murmured, trailing his fingers down her cheek and throat to the top of her breast.
Her heart pounded in her chest at the expression of wanting on his face. The combination of his strength and need for her never failed to turn her protests to dust. He was so strong. How could he want her so much? How could she refuse him? He made her feel things she'd never thought she could feel. She tried to steel herself against him, but her bones and resistance turned to water.
"You don't like the way I touch you," he said, dipping his finger lower, just glancing her nipple and making her shudder.
She bit her lip. "You know that's not true," she whispered.
"You don't like the way I kiss you," he said, lowering his mouth to hers again and making her dizzy.
Not fair, her puny rational side wanted to cry, but the rest of her was sinking into the delicious, decadent, forbidden pleasure of Abe.
"You don't like the way I make love to you," he murmured against her mouth as he skimmed his hands down to the waistband of her dress slacks and unfastened them.
This was the time to say no, a faint voice inside her coached her.
The sound of her zipper lowering mingled with his breath and hers. Nicola knew what was coming if she didn't stop him. She knew he would touch her size ten body and make her feel as if she was the most beautiful, sexiest woman in the world. He would caress her gently, paying attention to her response. He would guide her hands over him and allow her to make him sweat, just a little. Making him sweat, however, only made her hotter and more restless until he took her over the edge and sank inside her.
"I want you, Nicola," he said in a rough, sexy voice that had the same effect as an intimate stroke in her secret places.
Mentally swearing, she surrendered. One more time, she told herself. Just one more time.
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One
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Two pink lines on the at-home pregnancy test.
Two pink lines on the second at-home pregnancy test.
Panic slammed through her. Nicola couldn't believe her eyes. Sure, she'd missed her last period, but she'd never been particularly regular. Plus, she was thirty-seven years old and all the recent data suggested that a woman's fertility started going down the tubes by the time she turned twenty-six.
The second missed period and the lingering nausea had made her nervous enough to do the drugstore pregnancy test. Inside the bathroom of her large temporary suite in Crofthaven, she stared at the twin positive results for a full moment.
How could you have been so stupid? Didn't you learn your lesson the first time?
Nicola closed her eyes at the stab from her ruthless conscience. A hundred emotions rumbled inside her like a volcano that had been silent for years. She couldn't help remembering the other time in her life when she'd gotten pregnant.
No one close to her had seemed to be able to look her in the eye. Her foster parents had been utterly humiliated. Her high school boyfriend had insisted he was too young to be a father.
The only person who had looked at her without condemnation had been the woman at the home for unwed mothers.
Nicola's stomach knotted at the memory. She'd felt so trapped and frightened. She hadn't known where to turn. She'd been unable to go through with an abortion, yet every day the truth hit her in the face that she didn't have the resources to take care of a baby.
So she'd carried her baby for nine months and given her away. Her chest began to ache with a terrible pain she'd felt throughout the years. Don't go there, she told herself. "She has wonderful parents who love her with all their hearts. It was the right decision. It was the best thing for her." She said it aloud to drown out her regrets.
But Nicola had never totally gotten past the feeling that she must have been a bad person to give up her child.
She bit her lip and opened her eyes, the test results shouting at her. How could you be so stupid? Twice!
* * *
"Where's Nicola?" Abraham asked his housekeeper, Joyce, as she delivered his morning breakfast on a tray. He noted the tray only held one plate with an omelette and toast, one glass of orange juice and one cup of coffee. Nicola usually took her breakfast with him. He enjoyed starting his morning with her. No matter what crisis the day promised, she made him feel lighter.
"Miss Granville said she's not feeling well this morning. She sends her regrets."
Abraham frowned. Her regrets? She could have spoken to him directly.
The housekeeper must have noticed his displeasure. "She said her stomach was bothering her." She paused then added, "It may be cramps, her, uh, lady's time and she was uncomfortable—"
Abe gave a short nod, surprised that Nicola would be uncomfortable discussing anything with him. They'd been as close as a man and woman could get physically, mentally … maybe even emotionally.
He took a sip of his coffee. "Thank you, Joyce. It looks perfect, as usual."
His housekeeper beamed from the praise. "You're welcome, sir. Let me know if you want anything else."
"How are you doing?" he asked, silently referring to her grief over her daughter's death.
"Thank you for asking. Every day it gets a little better," she said and left the room.
His son Marcus poked his head through the door. "Good morning. How's the progress on your move to Washington?"
"Progressing," Abe grumbled, frowning at the boxes of files and papers occupying a quarter of his large office.
"You don't look happy at the moment, Senator-elect," Marcus said.
Abe gave a short chuckle and met his son's gaze. There was a slight easing of tension in his relationship with Marc, although Abe still sensed a guarded wariness from his son. When Marc had been framed, then ultimately cleared, of a crime he didn't commit, Abe had been outraged. Nicola had helped him see Marc in a different way. He was proud of Marc's strength and ingenuity and damn glad he'd found a good woman. Abe knew Marc still didn't understand all the choices Abe had made when the children were young, but his son didn't seem to be as resentful as he had been in the past.
"I'm trying to figure out how to persuade Nicola to come to Washington to manage my staff," Abe confessed.
Marcus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't know she wasn't going. You two have worked together so well."
"Yes, we have, but she insists that she'd rather stay in Georgia."
"She's probably got her pick of offers. Nothing like being on the winning team to boost your career, especially in her business."
"True," Abe said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I just haven't come up with the right combination of terms."
"If anyone can persuade her, you can," Marc said.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. How's your FBI agent wife?"
"Working hard. We're close to getting evidence on the people who tried to frame me. She says it's personal." Marc shook his head. "Pretty amazing woman that dropped into my life. Can't get more lucky than that."
Abe saw Marc's love for his new wife shining from his eyes. "It's good having you here for the holidays."
"It's good being here. Different than usual. You seem different," Marc said. "Less tense. I guess winning the election helped."
"Yes, it did." It was odd as hell, but now that the battle was over, he was left feeling empty. The exhilaration of the win had faded. He was looking forward to the challenge of serving in Congress. He felt as if it was his duty, his destiny, but the campaign had put stress on his family. In watching his sons and daughter meeting every challenge, Abe was more aware than ever of all he had missed during their growing-up years.
"You and your brothers and sister showed what you were made of during the campaign. Lord knows I wasn't there for you when you were growing up." He tasted the bitter, familiar flavor of regret. "I can't take credit for how you've turned out, but I'm proud of all of you."
Surprise crossed Marc's face. "That's the first time I've heard you say that."
"It's not the first time I've thought it," Abe said gruffly, reminded again of his less-than-stellar performance as a father and a husband.
"Mom always said you had more important things to do than be here with us."
Anger rushed through him, but he bit his tongue. Abe didn't want to speak poorly of his late wife. He had never been able to please her. "She was right in a way. I needed to prove myself. Your mother and I didn't have a perfect marriage. We wanted different things."
"What things?"
"She didn't want to be married to a military man. She didn't want to leave Savannah and Crofthaven."
"Weren't you in the military when you two got married?" Marc seemed to want to get his questions answered while he had the chance.
Abe nodded. "Yes, but she thought she could change me." He held up his hand when Marc looked as if he wanted to ask another question. "Listen, your mother loved all of you and she wanted the best for you. I won't disrespect her memory. She doesn't deserve that. I stand by my choices, good and bad."
Abe saw a hint of vulnerability cross his son's face that cut him to the quick. A glimpse of the hurt Marc had endured because Abe had been too busy fighting his own demons to be a dad. Excuses, he thought. He didn't believe in making excuses. There was nothing else to say.
Marc gave a shrug. "I'll let you get back to your packing," he said.
"Marc," Abe said. "You're always welcome."
His son gave a slow nod full of wariness and walked away.
Abe bit back an oath. This was what he deserved. Respect, but distance.
Two hours later, Abe heard a knock at his office door. Nicola appeared and he felt his heart speed up. Crazy fool, he admonished himself. He stood, allowing his gaze to fall over her. He liked the way her red hair bounced over her shoulders as she walked toward him. She wore a black pantsuit that hinted at the curves beneath. She was rounded the way a woman should be, and when she wore heels, she stood tall enough to look him in the eye. He'd never met a woman who'd gotten to him more quickly. "I wondered when you were going to show up."
"Didn't Joyce tell you—"
He nodded, rounding his desk to be closer to her. "Yes, she said something about a stomachache or cramps?"
"Something like that," she said with a shrug.
"Are you better?"
"I'm fine."
He took her hand. "I've been thinking. I really want you in Washington with me. Name your price."
Nicola's eyes rounded and she shook her head. "Wow. Good morning to you, too. I told you I'm going to stay in Savannah."
"You can keep your home in Savannah and stay here when the Senate isn't in session. I can make this very easy for you. Liberal leave. I'll even subsidize your housing in Washington. Think of the contacts you'll make." He squeezed her hand. It felt cool within his. Too cool. "Are you still not feeling well?"
"I'm okay," she said.
"Your hand is cold," he said, and rubbed her palm between his. "You seem distracted."
"I actually have some things I need to take care of this afternoon, so I was going to ask if I could take the rest of the day off."
"Sure," he said, confused by her distant attitude. "Do you need to talk about something?"
She looked away from him. "No, I just need to take care of some errands."
"You know that if you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask me," he told her.
She gave a half-hearted smile. "Of course."
"We can have dinner when you get back."
"I may not be back in time. You'd probably better go ahead without me."
His gut twisted and he tightened his hand around hers. "You know I don't play games, Nic. What's up?"
She bit her lip. "I really do have some things I need to take care of this afternoon. Personal things."
Which she didn't want to share with him. Abe felt a door shut in his face. He shouldn't be bothered. Nicola was younger than he was and he kept telling himself she should find someo
ne closer to her own age… They were the epitome of consenting adults, and both had fought the flash fire of sexual awareness that simmered between them from the beginning. The emotional connection that developed throughout the campaign had made it nearly impossible not to take her to bed. "Nic, we've been through a lot during the last year. I know I'm not the right man for you in the long run, but I want you to know you can turn to me."
She paled and swallowed audibly. "Thanks," she murmured and walked out of the room.
* * *
Thank goodness her gynecologist had agreed to see her immediately. After a couple of tests Nicola sat on the hard examination table and waited. The tests were for the benefit of the doctor. Nicola already knew and accepted the truth. She was pregnant. She was having the baby even if she had to raise him or her on her own. She just didn't know how to tell Abe.
She felt a stab of guilt. This was the kind of thing that could ruin his career, and Nicola, more than anyone, believed Abe Danforth was going to rock Washington D.C.
A knock sounded on the door and her doctor, a kind, no-nonsense woman in her fifties, entered. "Good afternoon, Nicola."
"Good afternoon, Dr. Baxter. Thank you for working me in."
Dr. Baxter nodded and looked at the chart she carried. "You're pregnant. Did you suspect?"
Nicola nodded. "I'm here for the vitamins."
Dr. Baxter glanced at the chart again. "Has your marital status changed?"
Nicola shook her head. "Still single. I'm a big girl. I can take care of me and the baby."
Dr. Baxter met her gaze. "I'm sure you can."
Nicola relaxed a smidgen at the doctor's confidence. She would be okay, especially after this gosh-awful morning sickness passed.
* * *
Unable to sleep, Nicola crept into the kitchen after midnight. She'd picked up a variety box of herbal teas at the same time she'd filled the prescription for her prenatal vitamins and hoped a cup would calm her nerves. Bypassing a noisy kettle, she boiled water in a small pan. She pulled a cup from the cabinet, tossed in a bag that promised soothing qualities and poured the hot water over it.