Inconveniently Wed

by Yvonne Lindsay

  With a sniff of annoyance, Carla rose from her chair. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “No, you’re making a mistake. You’re assuming I’m still the same scared and insecure young woman you managed to frighten away seven years ago. Well, I have news for you. I’m not. Now, to quote my husband from last night, get out.”

  “This isn’t over, Imogene. Don’t think I’m giving up on him that easily—not after all this time.”

  “Giving up? Well, first of all he would have had to be invested in a relationship with you, wouldn’t he? Seems to me that he wouldn’t have married me, again—” she paused for emphasis “—if he was.”

  “You don’t know anything,” the other woman said bitterly before heading for the office door. “You’ll be sorry you did this.”

  After she’d left, Imogene forced herself upright on legs that shook with the aftermath of emotion and headed out to her next meeting. She wasn’t sure how she managed to get through the rest of her day, but by the time she’d picked up her laptop case and headed out the office she’d achieved a lot. Maybe she should run on a postconfrontation anger-adrenaline high more often, she told herself as she headed downstairs and hailed a cab. While she’d been in a mild state of shock after Carla left, she felt incredibly empowered. For the first time she felt like she’d taken the upper hand and held on to it, and she was proud of herself for that. Whether Valentin would be so proud was another thing. He’d better not be working late tonight, she quietly seethed, or she’d have no hesitation in bowling up to him at work and having this out there.

  It turned out she needn’t have worried. He was already home when she entered the apartment, and working in the library. She walked straight in and waited for him to look up.

  “I had a visitor today,” she began.

  “Clearly they did not improve your mood,” he observed dryly.

  “No, never let it be said that Carla Rogers improves anything,” she replied.

  She was rewarded with a look of shock on his face.

  “Carla came to see you today? I didn’t expect that.”

  “Nor did I, but yes. She said she came to apologize. But then she got to her real agenda. She thought it might be nice if we came to some agreement together.”

  “An agreement. That sounds reasonable,” he said with caution.

  “Whereby we share you,” Imogene enunciated clearly.

  The look of shock hardened to granite. “And you said?”

  “I told her I didn’t share my husband with anyone.”

  His eyes gleamed; he looked impressed and not a little relieved. “Well, I’m pleased to hear it.”

  “You don’t understand, Valentin. She seems to think she has rights to you and that it’s okay to bully me. I set her straight on both counts. However, if you don’t support me in this, whatever I say won’t carry any weight. She’s vicious and she’s manipulative. She tore us apart once before and she will do anything in her power to do it again.

  “You need to believe me. I said it last night and I’ll say it again. Either she goes, or I will. I will not have a ménage marriage.”

  “I’m not suggesting anything of the kind. I want this to work as much as you do.” He got up from his desk and crossed the floor toward her to take her hands in his. “Imogene, last night was incredibly special to me. You are incredibly special to me. I want this to be forever.”

  She tugged her hands free. “Words are easy enough to say, Valentin. It’s action I need to see. I don’t want her working with you. That’s it.”

  “So my promise to you, to remain faithful only unto you—that isn’t enough?”

  Imogene only wished it were. She knew that he saw her as unnecessarily obsessed with the other woman but was it too much to ask him to see things from her side?

  “Not when she’s around.”

  “So you expect me to let go a member of staff who is not only a valuable team leader but instrumental in the current talks we’re having for a global supply contract with an international aid organization.”

  Imogene held her ground and nodded. “I most certainly do.”

  “Even if I told you that I love you? That I’ve only ever loved you?”

  Eleven

  She stood there in shock. She’d wished to hear those words from his lips again, but had feared it would never happen. And now, while they were fighting over someone else, he threw them into the conversation, just like that? She didn’t know what to do. She’d imagined when they exchanged these words it would be over something special, something meaningful to them both. Not that they’d be used as ammunition so he didn’t have to disrupt the impeccably smooth running of his workplace. She blinked back unexpected tears.

  “That’s not fair. You can’t use love against me like that,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

  “Not fair? It’s the truth. I’ve always loved you, Imogene. Remarrying you has only served to underscore that for me all over again. I don’t want anyone else. Only you. Always you.”

  Imogene felt as if her chest were being torn open. She would have given anything for these words seven years ago. She would have had the strength to stay and fight for her husband, for their marriage, instead of running away. But she was the one who’d found Carla in her bed while someone showered in their bathroom. She’d assumed it was Valentin and, shouldering all the deeply embedded damage of a child of an unfaithful parent, she’d run from the hurt and injustice of what she thought she’d seen.

  A month ago, at their wedding, he’d emphatically reiterated to her that the person in the bathroom hadn’t been him, and she’d wanted so much to believe him. To believe they had a second chance. But if he was being honest and he truly thought he loved her, then it wasn’t enough. He needed to show her this time. To prove he meant it. She would settle for absolutely nothing less.

  Valentin lifted one hand to her face and gently cupped her cheek, forcing her to look directly at him. “Imogene, I mean every word. But if we are to make this work, you have to trust me. I have no feelings for Carla other than the respect of one colleague for another—that’s basically all there has ever been between us. I can’t jeopardize everything we’ve been working for by releasing her from her employment contract right now.”

  His touch was tender but his words were like bullets to her soul.

  “So basically you’re telling me you’re not prepared to do anything,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even.

  “I will talk to her tomorrow. Discuss what you’ve told me.”

  Imogene pulled away from him. “Discuss all you want. It won’t change a thing as far as she’s concerned. And until you can see that, too, we don’t stand a chance.” She started to head out the library but then stopped in the doorway. “Valentin, tell me this. What do you think she stood to gain when, back in Africa, she one hundred percent led me to believe it was you in the bathroom showering off the sweat of your lovemaking with her? Why would she have lied about that then if it wasn’t her intention all along to have you to herself? Anyone else would have given up and moved on when we married for a second time, but for some reason she can’t let you go. Carla Rogers is a predator and she has you very firmly in her sights. If you can’t see that, then I’m sorry but you must be completely blind.”

  * * *

  Valentin rubbed at his eyes. He’d endured another sleepless night, in the end going into the home gym and pounding out some miles on the treadmill to wear himself out. With every stride, one question continued to repeat in his head and had been there again at the forefront of his thoughts on waking. Why wasn’t his love enough for Imogene? Maybe she was right after all. Maybe they didn’t have a future together. As far as he saw it he was doing everything reasonably possible to rebuild their relationship, but her preoccupation with Carla Rogers made her appear slightly unhinged. So he was going to the source—Carla Roge
rs—who would be here in his office at any moment.

  A sound at the door made him turn away from the window.

  “You wanted to see me?” Carla said as she walked toward his desk.

  She looked, as ever, perfectly composed. He’d seen this woman in the most dire and urgent of trauma circumstances when a gang war had blown up in the African city they’d been assigned to work in, and through all the blood and the chaos she’d been a rock of calm and reason. She was, like him, a person dedicated to their work, whether it be a hands-on situation like multiple patients with horrendous injuries or the development of a new product that would have far-reaching implications in developing countries. He’d come to rely on her—then as much as now—and he couldn’t see his working life without her. Correction, he didn’t want to see his working life without her, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Imogene’s chided in his head. He pushed the thought aside and smiled at Carla.

  “Thank you for coming. I know you’re busy.”

  “I always have time for you, Valentin. You know that.”

  He hated that he suddenly couldn’t take her words at face value. That the things Imogene had said to him last night, and the night before, made him twist what Carla said and look at it from a different angle. Did she have another agenda? Was that innuendo in her tone? He looked carefully at her perfectly made-up face and into the dark eyes that were the window to her brilliant mind, and saw nothing but the familiar features he’d known now for more than eight years. He sucked in a deep breath and chose his words carefully. No point in sugarcoating them. Carla was the kind of woman who came straight to the point, and he owed it to her to be equally up-front.

  “I understand you went to visit Imogene at her office yesterday,” he started.

  To his surprise, Carla laughed.

  “Oh, so she told you about that, did she?”

  “Did you expect she wouldn’t? We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

  “Oh, I don’t expect you think you do.”

  He was affronted by her choice of words. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I suppose she told you I surprised her with my visit.” Carla paused, looking at him for a response. When none was forthcoming, she carried on. “She summoned me to her office. I was quite surprised. But she’s your wife, and even though it took me away from precious hours here at work, I thought it must be important. So I went. I have to say, I was shocked. She was extremely rude to me. Told me I should start looking for another job because she didn’t want me anywhere near you. It’s ridiculous really, when we both know you have no possible grounds to rescind my employment contract. Your wife has a serious problem with jealousy, Valentin. She acted crazy. And to think she’s involved in the childcare industry? It’s all bit scary, to be honest.”

  Valentin hid his shock with a great deal of effort. Which woman was telling the truth? The behavior Carla had described didn’t sound like the Imogene he knew, but then again, how well did he really know her? Their first marriage had been conducted after only a few short weeks of knowing each other. And those weeks had been driven by lust and passion and a heightened sense of drama in a city that was under constant threat. It had hardly been a normal courtship. And nor had their marriage been, either. The time they’d managed to spend together was short and sweet, and there’d been little room for long and meaningful discussions. Not when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Until Imogene had believed he’d rekindled his relationship with Carla. At that point, yes, she’d been unreasonable.

  His heart told him he needed to believe his wife, but logic—his fallback in any situation—told him to stand by his employee. Someone he’d worked with and whom he trusted implicitly. Neither answer sat comfortably on his shoulders but there had to be a middle ground there somewhere. Surely.

  “It’s not the story she gave you, is it?” Carla asked with one arched brow.

  “There are some differences, yes,” he reluctantly admitted. “I will discuss it with her further.”

  “Don’t bother. Honestly, if you were my husband and the situation were reversed, I’d probably be staking my claim, too.”

  There was a note of truth that rang loud and clear in her words.

  “Staking your claim?” He forced a laugh. “Kind of makes it sound like I don’t have a choice in all this. I have to say, I feel a bit like a bone caught between two dogs.”

  “Don’t you mean two bitches?” Carla asked impishly.

  This time his humor didn’t have to be forced. “Well, since you put it that way. Not that either of you are, of course.”

  “Of course not,” Carla all but purred.

  For some reason, her manner brushed his nerves the wrong way. Like fingers running against a velvet pile.

  “Now that I have you here, let’s finalize the budget predictions we’ve been working on,” he said, determined to change the subject.

  In an instant she was all business, something he was grateful for, because throughout their discussion he’d found himself wanting to believe her, yet not quite managing to. Could it be that Imogene had told him the truth, or had it simply been her version of the truth? Somehow, he had to figure it out.

  * * *

  That night Valentin made certain he was home on time because they were expected for dinner at Imogene’s parents’ house. After a day mulling over what Imogene and Carla had said, he was no closer to working out which woman had given him the real turn of events in Imogene’s office, and things remained strained between him and his wife as they were driven to her parents’ apartment building.

  “You didn’t tell me your mom and dad lived so close to us,” Valentin commented as they pulled up at the prestigious Fifth Avenue address.

  Imogene merely shrugged. “Is it important?”

  “They are your parents.”

  “Yes, but we don’t spend a lot of time together. Dad’s always busy. Mom, too.”

  “Your dad’s a human rights lawyer, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, one of the best. It puts him in demand. So much so, I’m surprised tonight wasn’t postponed, like things like this usually are.”

  Valentin heard a note of weary resignation in her voice that pricked at him unexpectedly. In their first marriage he’d rarely been home when he said he would. Every day, emergencies had arisen that had required his immediate attention. His, or his ego’s? a little voice asked from the back of his mind. He had been part of a team. Not the only trauma surgeon in the hospital. And always on call if he’d been needed. But he had to admit, he’d enjoyed the urgency of the ER. Excelled under the pressure of time-sensitive situations. A lot of people accused surgeons of having a God complex, but the truth was they did literally hold the life of another human being in their hands at times. It had been an adrenaline rush, he couldn’t deny it. And he’d loved his work wholeheartedly. Still did, although what he did now was so different.

  As much as he professed to love his wife?

  It was not the same, he argued internally as they entered the building on Fifth and took the elevator to her parents’ apartment. Beside him, he felt Imogene stiffen.

  “Everything okay?”

  “About as okay as it gets, I suppose.”

  She appeared to brace herself as the elevator doors slid open and they walked together down the paneled hall to a set of wooden double doors. She’d no sooner pressed the buzzer than her mother swung the door open for them. Caroline O’Connor was a beautiful woman. In her early fifties, she clearly had been able to enjoy the best of everything when it came to personal grooming. Her hair was a few shades lighter than her daughter’s, but her clear gray-green eyes were the same.

  “Mrs. O’Connor,” Valentin said, as they entered the vestibule and he put out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Oh, I don’t think we need to stand on ceremony, do you?” The older woma
n gave him a smile and, ignoring his outstretched hand, reached up to plant a swift kiss near his cheek. “After all, we’re family now. Call me Caroline, please.”

  “Caroline,” he repeated with a quick smile.

  “Is Dad home yet?” Imogene asked, looking past her mother into the large empty sitting room beyond.

  “Not yet. There’s been a little holdup. You know what he’s like,” her mother said smoothly but with a look of censure at her daughter.

  Imogene ignored the silent caution. “Honestly, Mom, he could have made an effort for us. It’s the first time he’s getting to meet Valentin. Anyone would think he didn’t care we’ve gotten married.”

  Caroline started to protest but Valentin stepped smoothly in, touching Imogene on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I know what it’s like when you get caught up at work.”

  “Yes, you do, don’t you?” Imogene said pointedly before stepping away and shrugging off her coat to hang it in a cupboard off to one side.

  Valentin bit back the retort that sprang to his lips. He wasn’t going to point out to his wife that lately she’d been home at erratic hours herself and he certainly wasn’t going to enter into a debate in front of her mother. Caroline stood looking from her daughter to him and back again, a small worried frown creasing her almost impossibly smooth brow.

  “You have a lovely home,” Valentin said to her in an attempt to break the growing tension. “Have you lived here long?”

  “Our entire married life,” Caroline said with an ease he was sure was well practiced. “When Howard and I moved in here we only had this floor, but when another apartment came available above us, he bought that also and converted this into a duplex. Would you like me to show you around? Dinner won’t be for another hour. We’ll still have time for a nice drink before we dine.”