“Did you—”
“It was one night, forever ago, leave it alone. I promise, what happened won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you.”
Please. He was already hurting her, damn it. It killed her the way he closed himself off. He might as well be a country away.
“Right. Well, Joel.” She shoved the solitaire into his chest for him to take back. He stared at it, shaking his head, she released it, and it dropped into the sand. “I won’t marry you. You won’t let me in, and you’ll never love me.”
“Our marriage will be more peaceful if we don’t do something crazy like fall in love. If we keep some respectful distance.”
“Respectful distance? That’s what you want? My parents gave each other plenty of distance. An outsider would even say they were respectful. But the unspoken undercurrent alone would have sank three of your prized yachts.”
“That’s only because your father cheated on your mother. If you marry me, I’ll be faithful.”
“Parents should love each other. A child should be raised in a loving home.”
“Give us a chance. You’ll see how good our marriage can be. I’ll be a good husband.”
“How do you know? It’s not like you’ve ever been married before.”
He shot a quick look over her head and said nothing, just stared out at the crashing waves. His silence told her the truth he didn’t want to reveal.
Her jaw dropped for a second, then she forced a breath into her hard lungs to help her recover. “You were married before, weren’t you?”
He nodded. That was all she got. Shouldn’t be much of a surprise, he gave her nothing. Like always.
“You were married. You loved your wife enough to marry her. What was her name?” she asked.
He closed his eyes and rubbed them before answering on a sigh, “Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth. She’s the woman you lost in that mysterious accident. You loved her. She’s the one who has your heart, the only one who will ever have your heart, right?” Her voice could cut glass.
“Marriage without love isn’t what you think. It isn’t like the way you grew up. With me as your husband, you’ll be happy.” It sounded too much like a command to be the truth.
“No.” Ava shook her head and glared into his cold, velvet black eyes.
“Ava, you think if you have love, you’ll be happy. But it’s not true. It’s completely the opposite. I had love, it was stormy and ugly, and it ripped me to pieces. Love is powerful and passionate and destroys everything that matters.”
“What happened?” she pleaded. “What did it destroy?”
Joel let go of her shoulders, but she could still feel his fingers imprinting her skin even though they were no longer there. Then he reached down and scooped up the ring box, dusted the sand from it, and pushed it deep into his jeans pocket. “If you decide not to marry me, I’ll still take care of you and the child. A piece of paper signed by a judge will change nothing. I am committed to you. I’ll protect and provide for you every minute of your life. You’ll see, I won’t hurt you like your father did. You’ll come around. If you don’t, you’ll still have me.” His tone, his expression so intense, she shivered.
“Joel…” she whispered through dry lips and an aching throat.
His gaze wasn’t on her anymore but on the pasture a few yards from the beach. “If we want to be on time for dinner, we should get back.”
****
As they walked back over the soft, green land, she absorbed everything Joel had told her. She started adding pieces to her puzzle. Joel had lost the woman he loved, his wife, in some kind of accident. He blamed himself and the fact he was in love for the tragedy, calling it a mistake.
No. Joel hadn’t been in love, he was still in love. That was the problem. That was why he’d never give Ava his heart because it belonged to another. Because like Joel’s mother, and his grandfather, when Joel gave his heart he gave it forever. Which meant he would never give it to her.
She already believed he’d love their child. But would Joel open up enough to show that love? Or would he be so disconnected that the baby would never know he was loved? Would her child feel the way she had growing up, abandoned, worthless? She bit into her lower lip as she considered the question.
She didn’t know yet. She needed more time to figure it out, to make the right decision.
At least Ava had learned one thing from her trip to Italy. Joel couldn’t love her, so she wouldn’t marry him.
Chapter Thirteen
Joel was back in the city again, back in his penthouse, glaring at his sixty inch flat screen TV not seeing its clear HD images. Alone. Frustrated. Because Ava had said no. She should have moved in by now, should be planning their wedding.
This time, leaving her at her condo had been as comfortable as prying skin from his body. She needed more time so she could trust him and learn he was nothing like her father. But just because he hadn’t convinced her to marry him, didn’t mean he was giving up. He desired her. And not just her body. He liked her as a person and wanted her living with him.
If he married her, it would be to give her the legal protection of being his wife and all that entailed. But he would not do something stupid like falling in love. Even if he was still capable of that, he’d never let his defenses down enough to do that again.
If she changed her mind, and they married, they’d have separate bedrooms and separate lives. Separate meant peaceful. And peaceful was good. It was the only way.
He knew what happened when a man fell in love. Love led to anger. Anger led to destruction and pain. The utter devastation, the out-of-control emotion of love wasn’t worth the inch of temporary pleasure it gave in return.
Hadn’t Elizabeth’s death taught him that? And it’s not like he’d only lost his beloved wife that night.
Even if he was fool enough to love again, he would never put Ava and their child at risk because of that love.
Never. His job was to protect them. Even if it meant spending a lifetime fighting his growing feelings. Even if it meant living in isolation.
****
Three days later, Ava woke and with fuzzy, sleep-strained eyes padded into her kitchen. She was starving and excited about the prospect of consuming her usual extra cheddar, ham, and green pepper omelet. She found her cast iron pan, when the door buzzed.
It was only eight in the morning. She wasn’t looking her best or expecting anyone. Who could it be? Was Joel here to pester her some more about the financial security that marriage provided?
She rubbed her brow and groaned. Then she checked the peephole and found a strange woman holding two large grocery bags in her hands. Ava opened the door a tiny crack. “Hello?” She eyed the bags with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
“Miss Carson.” The stick-woman lifted a bag in greeting. “I’m Gwen, your new dietician.”
“My…my what?” She cleared her sleep-clogged throat, opened the door wider.
Gwen held the bags in one hand to offer Ava an age-spotted hand. The woman’s icy fingers were cold like the dead. “Your pregnancy dietician. Didn’t your husband tell you he hired me?”
“My husband?” Was Joel telling everyone they were married? Maybe. Joel had told her he was going to take care of her, to treat her like his wife, whether he had the legal piece of paper or not. Regardless, this was no time to tell Gwen that she wasn’t married. Besides she was too stunned to allow any words to come.
She gnawed her lower lip until she winced. Only Joel was arrogant enough not take no for an answer.
“Can you show me where the kitchen is, please? These bags are getting heavy.”
“Umm…Okay.” Ava’s mind tilted upside down as she led Gwen toward her kitchen. She didn’t know if she should tell Gwen to hit the road because she hadn’t given her permission for a pregnancy dietician or if she should let the seductive smells of seasoned, chef-prepared food lure her.
“Refresh my hormone-drugged memory. Why do I need a pregnancy dietic
ian?” she asked, not quite able to stop her cutting tone.
After setting the bags on the counter, Gwen shoved a thick pamphlet her way. Like Ava was going to read a book at breakfast.
“I’m here to make sure you and the baby get the proper nutrition. With the right diet, you can avoid a number of nasty complications.” Gwen’s voice had no right to sound that calm and in control. She reminded Ava of Joel, and right now Joel was on her shit list.
“Complications? Because of food?”
“Low birth weight, high blood pressure, toxemia, miscarriage.”
“No.” For a second, Ava’s throat felt tight. She touched it, checking for a noose. There wasn’t one of course. Nothing was going to happen to her baby. Plenty of women gave birth to healthy babies without the use of a pregnancy dietician.
Joel couldn’t force her to keep Gwen, if Ava didn’t want her. It’s not like she and Joel were married. Ava was free, at any time, to tell the bony woman to leave.
But the food smelled wonderful, and allowing a chef to cook for her wasn’t going to force her into a marriage she didn’t want.
Joel just wants what’s best for the baby. Calm down.
Ava’s hunger won the argument. She sat at the breakfast bar while Gwen unloaded the groceries then prepared a plate and scooted it in front of her. Ava’s hand froze in front of her fork as she glanced down at something that should have resembled eggs, but instead resembled white mucous.
But it smelled okay, so she took at bite. Her tongue encircled it letting its taste register. She moved the food around her mouth. One side and then the other. Chew. Keep chewing. Finally she swallowed with a hard grunt. Nothing that smelled buttery and delicious should be that slimy. She focused on the seasoning but couldn’t get past the gooeyness enough to take a second bite.
“Are these eggs?” she asked Gwen, who watched her eat with hands folded on the countertop.
“Heavens no. I wouldn’t clog your body with cholesterol. Why would I do that to your poor arteries? These are soy.”
“Soy?” Ava grabbed the salt shaker from the center of the kitchen island. Three long hard shakes should help mask the mushy mess on her plate.
Ava lifted her fork taking a mini bite into her mouth. Not helping. She spit it all back on her plate. Manners had to be sacrificed when something tasted that foul.
“That wasn’t salt. You’ve been here for five minutes, and you’ve already replaced my seasonings?”
Gwen put a hand on her skeleton-thin hip. “You don’t want to risk high blood pressure or preeclampsia do you?”
Ava searched her mind for a response and came up empty. She rubbed her brow as she listened to Gwen order her to read the nutrition bible she’d been given.
A moment later the woman left her alone to enjoy her plate full of soy mush. Her fridge was now full of food that Ava knew she’d toss out.
“What about low birth weight because the poor mom can’t eat this crap, anybody worried about that?” she grumbled to herself, clutching her fork.
Ava managed to swallow another bite then decided enough was enough. She was going to pick up a breakfast burrito at the corner café then she would make a special journey to Stanfield International Corporation, to see the CEO Commander, to tell him what she thought of his butting into her life.
****
As Ava stepped from her condo’s glass revolving door, a uniformed man approached her. “Miss Carson, where can I drive you today?” He stood next to a black stretch limo that looked like it belonged in front of the Met on opening day. The vehicle was way too luxurious to be in front of her normal, but nice, condo building.
“I take the subway.” Ava stepped back.
“Oh no, Miss Carson. Not anymore. Mr. Stanfield ordered me to drive you wherever you need to go, even if it is a block up the street.”
“He what?” Her skin prickled at the back of her neck.
“You look shocked. Didn’t he tell you he ordered you a driver?”
No, he didn’t. So like Joel to assume because she was growing his child, he could start making her decisions. Is this what he’d meant when he said he was going to be in her life, was this how he intended to “take care of her?”
Time to set that man straight. Ava didn’t want or need a man managing her life, not if that man didn’t love her.
She could take care of herself. If Joel wanted to suggest something, he should do just that, suggest it. All decisions in the future had better be a team effort, not an ordering behind her back. But making decisions and not consulting her was a violation of her boundaries. It had to be stopped.
Her jaw clenched as she glared at the shiny, black car with its open passenger door.
The child wasn’t even born yet, and Joel was already like this? What would he be like after the birth? She had to stop this now otherwise the baby would be subjected to some serious verbal brawling. She wanted their baby’s life to be peaceful and happy, nothing like her childhood had been.
Today Ava was going to take steps to make sure that happened. The mighty Joel Stanfield was no longer allowed to butt into her business without an invitation.
****
When Ava arrived at Stanfield International, employee conversations faded away, people rose to their feet, hugged her, told her jokes, and plied her with fake compliments. Everyone behaved this way. Not just old work friends. Before she could make her way to Joel’s private office, she’d been invited to countless lunches. It took her forever to free herself from her new entourage and make her way from the lobby, to the elevator, to the penthouse floor.
The steam behind her eyes started to cool because of the amazing reception she’d received. She only hoped she had enough fumes left to yell at Joel. Because he deserved her tongue lashing.
She tried to focus on Joel’s over-powering ways as she reached the desk of his new personal assistant Shar. “I need to see Joel. Now.” Ava sounded as royal and commanding as his majesty. Joel’s high handedness must be rubbing off.
“No. I’m sorry.” Shar shook her head, sending a strawberry curl into one green eye. “He’s in a meeting, Miss Carson. I’ll make you some coffee, if you’d care to wait.”
When she’d been training Shar, it had always been “Ava,” not “Miss Carson.” Huh. All of the sudden everyone called her “Miss Carson” and bowed and groveled before her, flinging lunch invitations her way like she was a rockstar.
Why?
What had Joel told everyone?
Did they think she was engaged to him? Or just having his baby? She couldn’t imagine him saying anything. He was as closed down as they came, wasn’t he?
Even though it didn’t seem in character, Joel had said something, otherwise why the over-the-top greeting? People couldn’t have missed her that much. Especially people she didn’t know.
“Why are you calling me, Miss Carson?”
“If you prefer, Ava, or, Mrs. Stanfield, I’ll call—”
“Mrs. Stanfield? Why would you call me that?” She tried not to growl.
“Because you’re engaged to Mr. Stanfield, every…everyone knows.”
There it was. The confirmation. She hadn’t received a record number of lunch invites because people missed her. How ugly. The invitations were about simple office politics. People wanted to get close to her because they thought if they did, they would buddy up to Joel. If they buddied up to him, he’d reward them with money, connections, and advancement. Typical. Yet so disappointing.
Little did they know she wasn’t important enough to do anything because he didn’t love her.
Ava growled again, and Shar flinched. The woman’s hands literally shook on her desk. Normally Ava would have apologized, but her temper was back, and it was blazing.
“You will show me which conference room Joel is ruling over. Now.” Ava hiked her chin.
“Y-yes, Miss. Right away.” Shar rushed down the hall with Ava burning into her heals.
When the door swung open to the executive conference
room, all eyes found her. Joel, all six feet plus of him, had his broad back to her, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, admiring his view of the Financial District’s best skyscrapers. She squinted into the sun. Its light held him, made him a shadow of stifling power.
When Shar shuffled away, Ava banged the door closed. Joel halted in mid sentence, glancing over his shoulder. He closed the blinds and made it easier to see him. Then he spun to face her. Did he have to be so tall? So covered in lean muscle? Did he have to be such a striking, beautiful man, with perfect chiseled features? Her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t fair of God to give him flawless bronze skin and penetrating, dark eyes.
What was it about him, about his brand of maleness that liquefied her knees? She ached for his touch, for his lips to cover hers. She’d dated other attractive men, but Joel Stanfield was it. His male potency made women flock to him and lose track of their words and coordination and grace.
Did she really want to lose her irritated focus because he was gorgeous? Hell no. She wanted to stay angry, so she could win and not be overpowered by him.
But his gaze caught hold of hers and warmed for a long, hot second. Her heart raced, butterflies tumbled in her stomach, and her head swam. Then his expression iced back over, returning to status quo. Disappointment pierced into her. Because he’d done it again—with one brief hot look, he’d made her hope that he’d allow himself to feel, just to snatch it away.
“Ladies, Gentlemen, the meeting’s postponed until after lunch,” he boomed.
Without a single questioning word, his suited army of men and women shuffled out, offering timid smiles to her on their way. Not an invitation from this bunch, probably because they were afraid she’d punch them with one of the fists she had jabbing into her hips.
“How was the pregnancy chef this morning?” he asked before Ava could even raise her voice.
“Terrible, her food is like a cross between warm egg whites and slime.”
He frowned. “I should have asked for a sample menu.”
“You should have asked me first.” She puffed out a hot breath.
“You’re telling me you don’t want a private chef? I thought you hated to cook.”
A Weekend Temptation Page 10