One True Love

by Barbara Freethy

  Lisa was great with kids. He couldn't believe she was planning to live the rest of her life without ever having another baby. Not that he didn't understand why. He knew the fear of losing another child, the risk of taking another chance. But someday, he wanted to be a father again. He wanted to have moments like this that were his.

  "She's just a giggly girl," Lisa said, tickling Mary Bea again.

  "I threw up on Aunt Lisa," Mary Bea said proudly.

  Nick smiled at Lisa. "I guess I made the right decision in taking Dylan and Roxy to school."

  "I guess you did." Lisa pulled the plunger out of the tub. "Come on, honey, let's get you back into bed before your fingers begin to look like raisins." While the water drained from the tub, Lisa wrapped Mary Bea in a warm, fluffy towel.

  "I'll take her to her room," Nick said, picking Mary Bea up. She threw her little arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his face. He almost couldn't stand the poignancy of her simple touch. He looked up and saw Lisa watching him. "I better get this munchkin dressed." He took Mary Bea into her room before Lisa could say anything else, before she could see the moisture in his eyes. Lisa had always hated emotion, the vulnerability of tears, the nakedness of grief. Maybe that's why they'd never been able to really share the worst moment of their lives.

  Lisa put Mary Bea in new pajamas while he straightened out the bed. Once she was tucked back in bed, he read her a story while Lisa went downstairs to tackle the breakfast dishes. Mary Bea drifted off to sleep within a few minutes. He put her favorite stuffed animal next to her and then slid quietly out of the room.

  When he entered the kitchen, he found Lisa wiping down the counter. Wearing old jeans and an oversize sweatshirt, Lisa was hardly a glamour girl. He should not have been attracted to her, but he was, which annoyed him. He had to stop wanting her. There was no point. She'd made it clear she was going back to L.A., to Raymond.

  "So where is Maggie?" he asked abruptly.

  "I don't know," she replied.

  "You have an idea," he persisted. "Is there any coffee left? I could use some caffeine."

  "Among other things," Lisa said, as she poured him a cup and handed it to him. "You used to be cheerful in the morning."

  "You used to be my wife in the morning."

  "What does that mean?" she asked in astonishment.

  Hell, he had no idea what it meant or why he'd said it. Although it probably had something to do with the fact that he was dying to kiss her, maybe work his hands up under her sweatshirt and let his fingers curve around her breasts.

  Lisa must have read his mind, because she caught her breath and turned around so her back was to him. She began washing the dishes, but her hands were shaky as she rinsed each plate and set it in the dishwasher.

  "Sorry." Nick walked over and turned off the faucet. "I don't know where that came from."

  Lisa took in a breath. "Just one look, and I forget everything."

  "You do?"

  "I'll admit that no one has ever gotten to me quite the way you do."

  "Good."

  She gave him a reluctant smile. "Why don't you go to work, so I can have some peace?"

  "That's probably a good idea. But first tell me what you know about Maggie."

  Lisa wiped her hands dry on a kitchen towel. "Maggie received a letter from a woman a few weeks ago. Actually, the letter was addressed to Keith. Maggie had never heard of the woman, and the note suggested there was a personal relationship between this woman and Keith."

  "So what?"

  "So, Maggie thinks Keith might have been having an affair."

  "That's ridiculous. Keith wouldn't have cheated on Maggie," he said automatically.

  "That's what I told her. But..."

  "What else?"

  "Keith took out extra life insurance two months before he died."

  "Because he worried about the future. The guy planned out his life to the last detail. He left nothing to chance." Nick thought about the man who had been his brother-in-law for fourteen years. Never in all that time had Keith ever given Nick a reason to suspect he was anything but what he was -- a nice guy.

  "He also withdrew eight thousand dollars from their bank account the day before he died," Lisa added. "Maggie has no idea where the cash went."

  Nick felt uneasy despite his faith in Keith. "Maybe it was lost in the fire."

  "Yes, except why would Keith be walking around with eight thousand dollars in cash?"

  Nick began to pace. Something wasn't right. No wonder Maggie had begun to fall apart. "Why didn't Maggie tell me?"

  "I think she deliberately forced herself to forget about the money and the insurance, but when the letter came, it stirred everything up. You should have seen her on Friday, Nick. She was beside herself. The house was a mess. The kids were running wild, and she was stricken with anxiety. I've never seen her like that."

  Nick felt guilty that he hadn't noticed, that he'd been so preoccupied with the baby fair that he hadn't checked on Maggie in days.

  "It's not your fault," Lisa said gently, reading his mind once again.

  His gaze flew to hers, "You don't think so?"

  She shook her head. "You love Maggie, and you'd do anything for her. But she's a grown woman now. She has to take care of herself. We all do."

  "Family takes care of family," he corrected.

  "You're right, but I don't think that Maggie is in trouble. She just needed to get away. I'm sure she'll come back happy and well-rested."

  Nick started as the phone rang. "That better be her." He grabbed the receiver. "Hello."

  "Nick?" Maggie's tentative voice sent a mix of relief and anger through him.

  "Where the hell are you?"

  "Is Lisa there?" she interrupted.

  "Of course she's here. Where else would she be?"

  "I'd like to talk to her," Maggie said with annoyance, which only made him angrier.

  "Well, I'd like to talk to you. Where are you and when are you coming home?"

  "I'll be home as soon as I can."

  Nick ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "What does that mean? You make it sound like you have to do something. What on earth requires you to be away from your kids?"

  "I have something to do, Nick," she said briskly, "something that could be very important for my children. How dare you imply that I'm letting them down? Lisa's there. You're there. I spoke to Silvia yesterday. She told me everything was fine, that the kids were happy. Was she wrong?"

  "That's not the point." He lowered his voice, trying to hold on to his temper, but sometimes his little sister drove him crazy. "Maggie, what are you doing?"

  There was a long silence from her end. "I think Keith's alive, Nick."

  Nick almost dropped the phone. "Excuse me?"

  "I think he faked his death," she said with more energy in her voice than he'd heard in a long time. "It makes sense."

  "No, it doesn't."

  "It's a long story, Nick, but I have to find him. I can't come home until I do. I'm sorry if watching the kids is an imposition, but dammit, I've never asked anything of you or of Lisa. Surely one of you can help me out. I won't feel guilty about this. I just won't."

  Nick couldn't focus on what she was saying. All he could hear were the words I think Keith is alive. "Maggie, are you out of your mind?" he asked, finally finding his voice. "Keith is not alive. He died almost a year ago."

  "That's what he wanted everyone to think," she shouted.

  "Come home, Maggie. We'll get you a shrink. We'll talk all this out."

  "I am not crazy, and I am not coming home until I find Keith."

  Before Nick could say another word, the dial tone rang in his ear. "She's nuts." He shook his head in bewilderment as he put the phone back on the hook.

  "Nick, what's going on?" Lisa asked, her eyes worried.

  "Maggie thinks her husband is alive, that it was all a big misunderstanding."

  "Did she say where she was? When she's coming home?"


  "She said she isn't coming home until she finds Keith." Nick flopped down in a chair at the kitchen table.

  Lisa crossed the room and sat next to him. "Nick, why didn't you tell her about Mary Bea?"

  His head jerked up at her simple question. "Damn, I forgot. How could I forget? Oh, hell. She rattled me, Lisa. I wasn't thinking." He slammed the table with his fist and stood up. "I should have told her Mary Bea was sick. She would have come home then."

  "It's okay."

  "It's not okay," he yelled at her. He took a deep breath. "Shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be yelling at you. I'm the one who screwed up."

  Lisa got up and put a hand on his shoulder. "Nick, I think Mary Bea is better, and I'm sure Maggie will call back. She's called every day so far."

  "You're right." He latched on to that thought like a drowning man clinging to the side of a lifeboat. "She'll call back. We'll tell her that Mary Bea needs her, and she has to come home."

  "And you won't tell her she needs a shrink."

  "Right." Nick looked into Lisa's eyes, and although he saw understanding, he still wished he hadn't messed up. There had to be a way to fix things. But how? "Wait a second. I can push that star button," he said, snapping his finger. "It will call Maggie back."

  Before he could take a step toward the phone, it rang. They both dashed for it, but Nick grabbed it. "Maggie. Maggie, I'm sorry. Don't hang up."

  "Uh, this is Raymond Curtis. I'm looking for Elisabeth Alvarez."

  Nick felt another rush of anger. Not only was he reminded that Lisa had another man in her life, he'd also lost his only chance of getting Maggie back on the phone.

  "For you," he said shortly, handing the phone to Lisa.

  "Hello? Raymond. No, it's all right. We just thought you were someone else." Nick stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Lisa was grateful he'd left. She preferred to speak to Raymond in private. "How are you?"

  "Not so good. I had a breakfast meeting with Monty this morning. Paul and Jeff worked up some ideas for me, but Monty didn't like any of them. I need you on this, Elisabeth. What time will you be back today?"

  Lisa took a deep breath, knowing Raymond would not like her answer. "I don't think I'll be back today. Maybe not tomorrow either. My friend hasn't returned, and I can't leave the kids."

  "Elisabeth," Raymond said tensely, obviously trying to hang on to his patience. "Forgive me if I'm not being sympathetic, but yesterday I spoke to your mother, and this morning a man answers the phone. It sounds like there are plenty of people down there who could take care of those kids."

  Lisa twisted the phone cord between her fingers. "Maggie left them with me, Raymond. I made a promise."

  "You made a promise to me. By the way, did you mail our wedding invitations?"

  Lisa hesitated, then lied. "Yes, they're on their way."

  "Well, thank goodness for that."

  Lisa felt terribly guilty, but she would mail them, she told herself, as soon as she got off the phone.

  "Elisabeth. I can't lose this account. You're going to have to find someone to relieve you."

  "What if I work up some ideas and fax them to you?"

  Raymond didn't answer for a moment. "All right. I did get more information today that might help you. I guess that's all I'm going to get, isn't it?"

  "I'm sorry," she said, sincerely meaning it. "I didn't know Maggie would disappear like this. But we have several weeks. We can get it done."

  "This isn't something we can throw together at the last minute. Beverly Wickham is hot for this account. I'm not sure she isn't in the lead."

  "You've never been afraid of Beverly."

  "I've gotten to know her a little better."

  "Really?" Lisa asked, hearing something in his voice that sounded odd. "Why is that? I would think she would be the last person you'd be socializing with, especially in the middle of this contest."

  "She keeps turning up, like a bad penny," he replied. "Does your friend have a fax there? I want to get you this information before you start coming up with copy."

  "You can't email it to me?"

  "The scanner isn't working at the moment."

  "Okay, let me check." Lisa put down the phone and walked to the door. She opened it and saw Nick lounging in front of the television in the adjoining family room. "Nick, do you know where I can find a fax?"

  "There's one at my store," he said, without turning his head.

  "Would you mind if Raymond sent me something?"

  "Why would I mind?"

  "What's the number?" Lisa asked, trying to ignore his bad mood.

  She reached for a piece of paper on a side table and jotted down the number he gave her, then returned to the kitchen and relayed it to Raymond.

  "Elisabeth, if you can do this as soon as possible, it would really help. I want to make sure you and the art department are in sync."

  "I'll try to get you something by this afternoon."

  "All right."

  Lisa wasn't sure what else to say. Their conversation was so business-oriented, so edgy. She was going to marry this man in under a month, and he seemed like a stranger.

  "I'll talk to you later," he said finally. "Good-bye."

  "Bye," she said softly, wondering why she hadn't told him she loved him, wondering why he hadn't said the same to her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lisa hid in the kitchen for the next thirty minutes, cleaning and straightening the shelves until she had absolutely nothing left to do. When she went into the family room, she found it empty. She had begun to think Nick had left when she heard the strains of his guitar coming from upstairs.

  She followed the music to Mary Bea's room, where she found Nick playing a Spanish love song to his niece. Mary Bea's eyes drooped so low they were almost closed. Lisa leaned against the doorjamb and listened to him, feeling the music play through her soul.

  The song was familiar. He'd played it for Robin many, many times. At some point, they'd begun to call it Robin's song. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain, but instead she felt only a bittersweet sense of longing, which slowly turned into pleasure. She'd missed this song, missed hearing Nick play.

  The Spanish guitar was one part of her heritage she had never denied. When Nick had learned how to play the songs that were part of her culture, he'd completely won over Silvia and Carmela -- and her.

  He'd seduced her with that same music. They'd made love to it, and they'd watched their baby sleep through it. So many memories, she thought, as a montage of images raced through her mind. She remembered sitting with Nick on a bluff overlooking the ocean, content to share a little music, a big sunset and a long bottle of wine. She could see them walking down Pacific Avenue on Sunday, when the artists took over the sidewalks. With Nick holding her hand, kissing her mouth, laughing, always smiling, she'd felt like her life was one beautiful love story. Nick had coaxed her to try so many new things, riding a motorcycle, taking a dune buggy ride in the desert, eating praline pecan ice cream and Ruby's hot, hot chili.

  They had shared a lot of good times, she realized, and when she'd turned her back on her life with him, she'd locked away not just the bad memories but the good ones as well.

  Nick stopped playing, and she opened her eyes. He looked at her inquiringly, obviously not sure of her response.

  "That was nice," she said softly.

  "Sh-sh." He tipped his head toward the sleeping child, then slid off the bed and met her in the hallway. They both looked back to see if Mary Bea was still asleep. She was, so Lisa pulled the door halfway closed.

  "That was beautiful," Lisa said, as Nick set his guitar down on the floor next to the hall table,

  "Thanks."

  "I'd forgotten how well you play."

  "I'm a little out of practice."

  "Do you -- do you play for Suzanne?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  His eyes met hers. "You're treading on dangerous ground, Lisa."

  She couldn't stop herself. "I
t was a simple question."

  "No it wasn't." Nick took a step closer. "You don't just want to know if I play the guitar for Suzanne, do you?" He took another step closer, until his face was just inches from hers. "You want to know what goes on between us, how serious we are, if we've made love, if you were better--"

  "Stop it, Nick." She shoved him backward, out of her face, out of her space.

  "Why should I stop? You wanted to know. You asked."

  "About your music, nothing else. Why do I even try to talk to you?"

  "I'll make it easy for you, I'll leave."

  "Good." She took a breath, wishing she could just walk away, but she couldn't. "When do you think you'll be back?" she asked grudgingly.

  "I don't know. Why?" He sent her a mocking smile. "Will you miss me?"

  "I need that fax that should be at your store by now, so I can do some work this afternoon."

  "Right." His expression turned grim at the reminder of Raymond. "I'll come back at lunch. Will that be soon enough to hear from your lover?"

  "It's business, Nick."

  "Excuse me? I thought you were in love with the man."

  "The fax is business. You're twisting my words."

  "Yeah, well, you wouldn't believe what you're doing to my head." He put his hands on his hips and glared at her.

  She glared right back, refusing to walk away or back down. She had done nothing wrong, except ask him to pick up a fax for her. "What's the big deal? If my receiving a fax at your store was such a problem, why did you give me the number?"

  "It's not the fax. It's you."

  "What am I doing that is irritating you so much?"

  "It's what you're not doing."

  She put a hand to her head, feeling the onset of a headache. "What does that mean?"

  "It means, I can't stand it anymore." He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up against his body so she could feel every long, lean inch of him, hard and male, and hauntingly familiar.

  His mouth pressed against her lips and stole her breath away. His lips punished her for loving another man. She tried to push him away but couldn't. Once she touched him, her resistance fled. Her hands refused to pummel his chest and instead slipped around his waist, bringing him that much closer to her.