Vows

by Rochelle Alers

  “You do much more. I’ve watched you become a very capable administrator. I…”

  Her gaze narrowed. “What are you trying to say?”

  He gave her a direct stare. “I’m considering reassigning Preston and giving you his position.”

  Vanessa chose her words carefully. “Does Preston know?” Warren shook his head. “You’ve made this decision without conferring with him?”

  This time he nodded. “I see no need to discuss it with him.”

  She stared back at her boss, unable to believe what she’d just heard. “Then I can’t accept it. I will not take the man’s position while he’s practically flat on his back.”

  “You may not have a choice, Vanessa.”

  Heat flared in her face. “I will not be a party to what I think of as an act of deception.”

  Warren’s expression softened as he closed the distance between them. “I’m doing this for you, Vanessa. I shouldn’t have to wear a sign around my neck to let you know how I feel about you.”

  She was uncomfortable with the fact that he’d finally confessed his feelings for her. Always before she had perceived his interest through innuendoes.

  “You’ve complimented me with your persistence and patience in pursuing me. I acknowledge your feelings, but my answer is no. I will not accept Preston’s title, nor will I do anything to encourage your advances.”

  Pulling back his broad shoulders, he smiled. “I suppose you can’t get any plainer than that, can you?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  He inclined his head. “Thank you for your honesty.”

  She flashed a gentle smile. “You’re very welcome.”

  Warren returned her smile, turned on his heel, and walked out of her office. Vanessa fell limply back down on her chair, grateful that he had taken her rejection without a confrontation. Warren was well aware of the laws regarding sexual harassment in the workplace, and he had been very, very careful not to test it.

  If, she thought, she could reveal that she was married, then she wouldn’t be dating Stanton or sidestepping Warren’s advances.

  Most women complained that there weren’t enough men to date; she had a husband and two other men who were interested in her, and all she wanted was to be a wife to the man who had captured her heart and refused to give it back.

  Gathering her handbag, she rose to her feet and left the office to meet Lisabeth.

  * * *

  “How about a drink?” Lisabeth said conspiratorially as she studied her menu.

  Vanessa shifted her eyebrows. “For lunch?”

  Lisabeth nodded her braided head. “Why not? I had a rough morning.” She chewed her lower lip. “I think I’m going for a frozen margarita.”

  “I’ll pass on the alcohol. But a virgin piña colada looks very tempting right now.”

  Lisabeth stared across the table at her co-worker. “Are you still working late?”

  “Not too late. Six.”

  “Yeah, Girlfriend, you’re learning.”

  A waitress approached their table and they gave her their orders. Within twenty minutes they were sipping icy cold drinks and inhaling the spicy ingredients of chicken and beef fajitas.

  Vanessa hadn’t taken more than two bites of her chicken dish when she felt the beginnings of her stomach rejecting her food. Clamping her napkin over her mouth, she pushed back her chair and walked quickly in the direction of the rest rooms.

  She returned to the table, her face drawn from a violent bout of retching. The rising nausea had emptied the contents of her stomach.

  Lisabeth peered closely at her when she retook her seat. “Are you all right, Girlfriend?”

  Taking a sip of water, she shook her head. “I don’t know. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me.”

  “Either that, or you’re pregnant,” Lisabeth said glibly.

  Lines appeared between Vanessa’s eyes as she frowned, and she became more uncomfortable by the minute as her apprehension increased. Calculating mentally, she realized she was late!

  No, she pleaded silently. She couldn’t be pregnant. She didn’t want to be pregnant—not now! Her hand trembled noticeably as she took another sip of water.

  Lisabeth watched her intently. “Are you, Girlfriend?”

  She lowered the glass. “Am I what?”

  “Pregnant?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But you are seeing Stanton Reid, aren’t you?”

  “Seeing, but not sleeping with him.” What she couldn’t tell Lisabeth was that she had slept with a man—a man who was her husband. Leaning back on her chair, she said, “I think I’m going to skip lunch.”

  She ordered a cup of lukewarm tea with lemon, hoping it would help settle her stomach. However, the tea was not the antidote for her nausea, and she spent the remainder of her lunch break watching Lisabeth eat and drink.

  She returned to her office, stopping short when she saw Frank Stevenson going through a stack of papers on her desk. His back was to her, so he hadn’t seen her come in.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Frank spun around, his face flushed. It was apparent he had not expected her quick return. “I—I was looking for something.”

  “I can see that!” Vanessa tried bringing her rising temper under control. “Couldn’t whatever you need wait until I came back?”

  “Warren asked for the latest balance sheets on the direct contractors. I couldn’t find my copy.”

  Folding her hands on her hips, she walked slowly into the room. “Warren could’ve waited.”

  “He said he needed it right away.”

  “I don’t care what he said. If you misplaced your copy, then that’s on you. I don’t want to find you going through anything in my office ever again.”

  Glaring at her, Frank crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s no need to get your nose out of joint, Missy.”

  “Get out of my office and stay out!” Frank dropped his arms, complete surprise mirrored on his face. “Now!”

  It was a full thirty seconds before he registered the seriousness in her voice and knew enough not to challenge her further. He strode past her and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Making her way over to the chair behind her desk, Vanessa flopped down on it. Why, she thought, did men find it so difficult to take direction from a female superior?

  After the incident when she’d found her papers disturbed in her locked file cabinet, she did not want to set up the opportunity for it to happen again. She didn’t want her reports missing like Frank’s.

  Picking up the telephone, she dialed Warren’s extension. Jenna answered, and she told the secretary that she would bring the balance sheets for her to photocopy. She also told Jenna to tell Warren that she was taking the afternoon off.

  She then straightened the papers on her desk, locked them away, and called Frank and told him to fill in for her. He seemed pleased with her decision, because that meant she would begin her four-day weekend earlier than planned.

  Making certain everything was locked, including the door to her office, she left.

  Vanessa sat on a stool in her bathroom, numbed. She’d sucked in her breath, trying to hold raw emotions in check. However, the tightness in her chest forced her to expel it, her gaze fixed on the wand in the glass filled with a yellow liquid. The strip had changed color.

  She could still see Lisabeth Nelson’s distinctive, copper brown, rounded face with sparkling dark eyes, pert nose, and full mouth as she said, “Either that, or you’re pregnant.”

  Lisabeth was right. She was pregnant! And she knew exactly when it had happened—the first night Joshua had come to her house; the first time they had made love after a thirteen-month separation.

  She sat on the stool for what seemed hours until the ringing of the telephone forced her to move.

  * * *

  A moan floated across the room and Joshua sat up quickly, moving to Samuel’s bedside. He’d berated himself f
or remaining in Florida each time he spoke to Vanessa, but knew he had to experience closure. His father was expected to recover, with limited use of his right arm and leg. The neurologist predicted some speech impairment, but with intensive therapy Samuel Cole would be able to communicate with some facility.

  Leaning over Samuel, he stared down at the intelligent dark eyes struggling vainly to focus.

  “Jos—”

  “It’s me, Old Man.”

  Samuel closed his eyes, his chest shuddering with every effort it took to form the words he tried forcing through his lips. “I—I sor—ry.”

  “So am I, Old Man. I’m sorry you can’t talk, because I’d love to go a few rounds with you right now. I want to hear all of your lies before I curse your soul to hell and back.”

  Samuel’s head rolled back and forth in frustration. His eyes opened again and he stared at the son who was more like him than the two who claimed his name.

  Tears pooled in his eyes as he swallowed, trying to bring his emotions under control. “I…love…you,” he said slowly, stringing the words out and breathing heavily from the exertion.

  A shadow of anger tightened Joshua’s features. “You don’t know how to love.”

  Nodding slowly, Samuel mumbled breathlessly, “I do.” His suddenly alert gaze was fixed on his son’s face. “You need to marry. It—it will be good for…” His words trailed off.

  The hardness and pain fled his cold, green gaze as Joshua studied the face of the man he’d claimed he hated, but couldn’t. “I am married,” he confessed. “And unlike you, I’ll always be faithful to her.”

  Groping over the sheet with his left hand, Samuel reached out and caught Joshua’s wrist in a firm grip. Despite the debilitating stroke, he still possessed a great deal of strength. He ran his tongue over his lower lip in slow motion. “Call…call…”

  Joshua’s gaze swung to the machines monitoring Samuel’s vital signs. Nothing had changed. “Who do you want me to call?”

  Samuel’s increasing frustration was evident by the lines creasing his forehead. “Call me…please.”

  “Call you what?”

  “Father.” The single word was strong and unwavering.

  Pulling his wrist free, Joshua shouted, “No!” He stalked over to the window and stared out, not seeing the fronds of towering palm trees bowing gracefully from a hot breeze, not seeing the traffic moving fluidly along a multi-lane highway, and not seeing the stretch of beach meeting the gray waters of the Atlantic Ocean, because of the tears filling his own eyes. For the first time in his adult life he’d shed tears for someone who didn’t deserve them.

  Turning away from the window, he stared at the broken-spirited man whose name and money had controlled and changed lives with a wave of his right hand. Now, that hand lay lifeless at his side.

  He retraced his steps and stood over the sobbing Samuel. Picking up the useless right hand, he caressed it gently as a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

  “It’s all right,” he crooned softly. “Everything’s going to be all right, Father.”

  Samuel’s tears streamed down his face, into his hairline, and onto the pillow cradling his head. He tried smiling, but the muscles in the right side of his face wouldn’t move, and the smile resembled a pained grimace.

  Joshua leaned over and pressed his lips to his father’s shriveled cheek. “I have to leave now. I have to see about my wife. I’ve left her for too long.”

  Samuel nodded, closed his eyes and surrendered to exhaustion. It had taken a great deal for him to ask his son for his forgiveness. Joshua pulled a sheet over his chest.

  Martin Cole walked into the room, stopping and recognizing the gentleness in Joshua’s touch as he comforted their father. “How is he?”

  “He’s asleep.” Turning, he smiled at his brother. “He’s going to be okay.”

  “Where are you going?” Martin asked when he saw Joshua reaching for his jacket on the back of a chair.

  “I’ll be in Ocho Rios if you need me. I’ll call you and let you know where I’ll be when I return to the States.”

  Martin embraced his brother, then watched as he made his way down the hospital corridor until he disappeared from view.

  Vanessa answered the telephone after the third ring. “Hello.”

  “Hello yourself, Angel.” The greeting was a fluid, husky whisper.

  “Where are you, Joshua? The connection sounds weak.”

  “That’s because I’m in Ocho Rios.”

  “Ocho Rios?”

  “I want you to get yourself to the airport. I’ve made reservations for you for a nine-twenty flight to Miami. You’ll only have forty-five minutes to make a connecting flight to Kingston on Air Jamaica. I’ll be at the airport waiting for you.”

  “Joshua, I have something to tell you.”

  “Tell me when you see me, Angel.”

  She looked at the receiver when she heard the steady drone of the dial tone. He had hung up.

  An hour later, Vanessa fastened her seat belt and prepared herself for the flight to Jamaica, wondering what had happened that sent Joshua to Jamaica. She remembered him saying, “It’s a refuge if you’re hurting, and need a place to heal.”

  Had he gone there to heal? Shrugging a shoulder, she closed her eyes. She would find out soon enough.

  Chapter 28

  As promised, Joshua was waiting for her when she left the customs area. He rose from the chair where he’d sat waiting for her flight to arrive and walked toward her.

  Vanessa noticed that he had a long, fluid stride, and that his right foot turned in slightly. She also noticed that he’d lost weight; his face was leaner and his cheekbones were more pronounced. A gentle smile lit up her eyes as he extended his arms. Dropping her single piece of luggage, she threw herself against his chest.

  “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Kirkland,” he whispered.

  “You’re…” His demanding kiss stopped her words and robbed her of her breath.

  “Let me get you out of here,” he crooned against her moist lips. Picking up her bag, he curved his free arm around her waist and led her out of the airport to the parking area.

  Vanessa watched Joshua store her bag in the trunk of a Mercedes Benz sedan that had to be more than thirty years old. “You didn’t give me time to pack much.”

  “You won’t need much where we’re going.”

  “How far is Ocho Rios?”

  “We’ll arrive there in time to see the sun come up.” He helped her into the car, then came around and sat beside her. His right hand caressed her knee over her cotton slacks. “Did you sleep on the way down?”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t sleep. Not when she’d just found out that she was carrying a child, his child.

  Closing her eyes, she settled down in the seat. “I won’t be able to see much of the landscape in the dark, so please wake me up when the sun comes up.”

  Joshua did not wake her as they traveled west through Spanish Town en route to Ocho Rios. The sun shone brightly in the sky when he arrived at the house and carried her into the bedroom they would share. She didn’t stir when he undressed her and covered her with a sheet. Removing his own clothes, he lay down beside his wife and adjusted the mosquito netting around the antique four-poster bed. Cradling her close to his chest, he joined her in a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Vanessa woke up, startled. At first she didn’t know where she was, then her arm brushed a solid shoulder. Turning over, she stared at Joshua staring back at her. A sensual smile crinkled her face as he returned it with one of his own.

  “Good morning.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Good morning to you, too.”

  Holding the back of her head in one hand, he brushed his lips over hers. “Welcome to Jamaica.”

  She snuggled close to his chest, her nose pressed against his throat. “I have something to tell you.” Her voice was low and mysterious.

  Joshua combed his fingers through her hair. “What?”

  �
��We’re going to have a baby.”

  He stiffened, then sprang up, pulling her up with him. His gaze burned her face with its intensity.

  The nostrils of his thin nose flared noticeably when he finally let out his breath. “What did you say?”

  Vanessa blinked back tears. It was apparent he didn’t want the child. “You heard damn well what I said, Joshua Kirkland.”

  “Are you sure? Did you see a doctor?”

  She bit down hard on her lower lip, shaking her head. “I took a home pregnancy test yesterday, and it came out positive. I didn’t have time to make an appointment with my doctor.”

  Her apprehension vanished as he rested a hand on her chest, his fingers gently outlining the shape of her breasts. Then she was in his arms. He held her so tightly she had trouble drawing a normal breath.

  “Joshua! You’re crushing me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, loosening his grip. “How did it happen? When?”

  “I don’t think I need to tell you how. When? The first night you came to my house for dinner.”

  He let out a triumphant laugh. “That was the night I had you for the appetizer!”

  Vanessa pounded his hard shoulder with her fist. “This is serious, Joshua.”

  Turning her on her back, he moved over her body and supported his greater weight on his elbows. Tenderness lit up his eyes. “You’ve just given me the best news I’ve ever had.” He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “How can I thank you, Angel?”

  “Thank me by being a supportive husband and a loving father.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard to do with you.”

  “You’re not sorry?”

  He stared down at her. “How can I be sorry, Vanessa? I’ve waited a long time for someone like you to come into my life. Loving you has helped me to let go some of the bitterness I’ve carried for a long time.”

  Her large eyes searched his features. “Have you made peace with your father?”

  He nodded slowly. “I had to. I couldn’t carry the hate any longer. It was eating me up inside, and I knew it would eventually destroy me.”

  Curving her arms around his neck, she pulled his head to her breasts. “Have you forgiven him?”