by Nancy Warren
“Giving birth to another orphan?” Jon asked with a bland glance at Caro, smug humor lighting his eyes.
Later, she’d poke them out. Right now, she had more important things to do. Okay, so her plan had backfired and she’d ended up looking like an idiot. There were worse things that could happen to a person.
She gave Andre a hug. “That’s great. Give Donna my best.” Her eyes filled with tears of emotion as she watched her old friend flush with pleasure, and hug his two sons, then Fanny.
Soon Caro would be the one in labor, she realized, resisting the urge to touch her own belly. Would anyone be rushing to her bedside?
She sniffed. “Can I drive you to the airport?”
“No. We’ve got a rental.” Andre dug a cell phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call Donna and tell her we’ll be on the next plane. We’ll get there. I haven’t missed one yet.”
He shot a glance between Jon and Caro and shrugged, gave his charming smile and extended his hand to Jon. “No hard feelings?”
“Not anymore,” said Jon, moving closer to her side.
“Oh, how—” she spluttered.
“Take care of her,” Andre said, shaking Jon’s hand much more warmly than he had earlier.
“Chauvinistic!”
“I will,” Jon assured her friend. She couldn’t help but notice that Andre may belong in the hunk hall of fame, but it was Jon’s nearness that had her pulse fluttering.
Probably because she was still in love with him.
“The father of my child,” she mumbled, while she waved goodbye to her temporary date and his children.
“Pardon?”
“I s-said,” she stammered, horrified she’d spoken the words out loud and trying to recover, “he’ll be the father of another child.”
Jon pulled her against him and he touched her cheek. He didn’t say a word, simply laid his hand against her face and she felt all the things he wanted to say to her. Their gazes locked and her eyes filled with tears once more. He must be thinking she was sad that Andre was off to attend a birth while she couldn’t conceive. She had to tell him the truth. And soon.
“Let’s dance,” he said huskily.
She nodded, let him take her hand and pull her forward.
“Why, Jonathon and Caroline. It’s so good to see you two together again.” Cherise swayed toward them. It was obvious she’d been doing quite a bit of celebrating. She seemed to have trouble focusing and her speech was slurred.
“Does this mean you’re getting back together?” She stepped closer to give them both a bosomy hug. Caro thought she might get drunk just breathing the same air.
“It means we’re going to dance,” Jon said in a polite but steely tone. He pulled Caro forward, but Cherise’s shoe was firmly planted on the hem of Caro’s dress and, as the silk was pulled in two directions, it gave at the weakest point—where the seams had been let out twice.
Caro heard the fabric tear a second before she felt the breeze on the naked skin of her midriff. She cried out in alarm and hugged her arms around herself, trying to pull the split dress together.
“Jon!” she cried. “Give me your coat.”
“Are you nuts? It’s hotter than—”
“Your coat. Now.”
He stared at her, then blinked as he took in her predicament. Dragging off his jacket, he draped it around her shoulders.
“Take me to the ladies’ room and then find somebody with a needle and thread.”
He was always quick, she’d give him that. He threw an arm around her so he managed to look casual, yet helped keep everything intact and led her out of the crowded ballroom into the relative quiet of the hallway.
They were almost past the ladies’ washroom when she halted.
“Jon, I get off here.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” he said, and kept walking. “We’re ahead of schedule, but that’s all right.”
Since he and his jacket were all that stood between her and embarrassment, she stayed with him. When they got to a side entrance leading to the parking lot she said, “Where are we going?”
“My car.”
He was a pretty organized man, but unless he’d changed in the last few weeks, he didn’t have a sewing kit in his car. “What for?”
“I want to show you something.”
It was ridiculous, but she didn’t have a lot of better ideas. Besides, it felt so good to be tucked under his jacket, surrounded by his scent, the wool still warm from his body.
The body that had helped conceive a child.
Pregnant. The word shivered through Caro like a wonderful secret. Well, it was a wonderful secret. Her hand settled on her belly where her secret lodged and she gazed at the father of her child.
He helped her into the car and she tried not to let the familiarity of it wash over her. But how could she help it when the smell of the leather interior combined with a hint of his aftershave to taunt her with memories?
She pulled his suit jacket tighter around her as though that could protect her from the past, when the jacket was an even more familiar reminder of his scent.
“You bought a new tuxedo for Mike’s wedding? You hate tuxedos.”
“Mike wanted to wear biking leathers, but Tess talked him out of it.”
While she was picturing what the bridesmaid and best man would have to wear if the groom wore black leather chaps, Jon was snapping her seat belt in place and the next thing she heard was the quiet purr of the Mercedes engine.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “We should get back before we’re missed.”
He backed out of the parking space without replying and headed out of the lot, the car gathering speed as it hit the main road.
“What are you doing?” she repeated, louder this time.
“You’re not going back. Neither am I.”
“Oh, yes I am. Turn around.”
“You don’t seem to have grasped the situation,” he said with irritating calm. “I’m kidnapping you.”
11
TORN BETWEEN irritation and a secret thrill at his high-handed tactics, she laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
“But…” What on earth could she say to him to make him stop? Did she want him to stop?
She bit her lip and stared out the window as houses and trees flashed by in a blur. She realized her eyes were misty and immediately blamed pregnancy hormones.
“All right, Jon. You’ve made your point. We need to talk. I’m willing to do that tomorrow, but right now we have to get back to the wedding. We’re Mike and Tess’s attendants, we can’t let them down by leaving before they do.”
“Pick out a CD if you’d like,” Jon said.
“You’re very well-mannered for a kidnapper,” she said, her tone brittle.
She could see a dimple develop in his cheek when he grinned. He had a wonderful profile, straight nose, full lips, firm chin. Very firm chin. So firm she’d probably break her fist on it if she punched him, which she was strongly inclined to do.
What she ought to do was call the police. Her ex was clearly a madman. “You must have misread your ‘How To Be A Best Man’ guide. You’re supposed to toast the bridesmaid, not kidnap her.”
“Actually, it’s the groom who toasts the bridesmaids. I’m running away with one. I was improvising. Do you think it’s a custom that will catch on?” He turned to her and the light from a passing streetlight touched his cheekbones and left his eyes in shadow, giving him a sinister aspect.
“I think you’re insane. Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere outside of town.”
“Outside town?” She’d assumed he’d take her to their house, or to the riverfront park where they could talk. But out of town? The man must be losing it.
“Hand me your cell phone. I have to call Tess so she doesn’t worry.”
“All arranged.”
The statement hit her like a slap. “You mean Tess knows
you’re kidnapping me?”
“No. Of course not. I simply let her know we’d be leaving early.”
“Oh, I am so glad we are getting a divorce. That’s just the sort of arrogant—”
“Are you?”
His interruption stopped her cold.
He turned to glance at her. “Are you glad we’re getting a divorce?
As glad as she’d be if somebody pulled her hair out strand by strand. But she wouldn’t admit that. Not yet. Instead of answering him, she said, “I still need to let Tess know. I’ll apologize to her. Let me have your cell.” She held out her hand for it.
“I didn’t bring it.”
Didn’t bring it? He always had his phone with him. “I don’t believe you. What if a hot news story breaks?”
“It will break without me.”
“What if…what if Fanny needs you?”
“Fanny’s fine. Steve will take her home.”
“Steve?” She was flabbergasted. “Steve’s in on this, too?”
He laughed softly. “Give it up, Caro. They’re all in on it. Our friends want us back together.”
She made a disgusted huffing sound. “None of them has ever tried living with you. You’re impossible. At least pull over and let me use a pay phone.”
“I’m being as flexible as a kidnapper can be, but I have my image to uphold. Sorry.”
She couldn’t help the smile that stole over her face in spite of her annoyance. “Your image as a kidnapper. Well, one thing for sure, your image as a staid newspaper publisher will be shot to pieces when you turn up on the front page as a kidnapper.”
“Staid? Is that how you see me?”
He glanced over at her and she took a moment to answer, listening to the quiet purr of the powerful engine, watching his hands in perfect control on the wheel. It was one of those spring nights in the Pacific Northwest when the last rays of daylight seem to hover like a friend standing at the doorway still chatting, reluctant to leave.
It seemed to be similar to the way Jon felt about their marriage. She’d shown him the door, but he seemed reluctant to walk through it.
“Yes. You can be staid. But you can also be surprising.” She shot him a laughing glance. “Kidnapping me, for instance, is a surprise.”
“Was that the problem?” he asked softly. “Was I too conventional?”
Instinctively her muscles tightened. Every darned one of them from her scalp to the soles of her feet. Her knee-jerk reaction was to throw his infidelity in his face, but maybe it was time to look deeper than that, at the problems that had hovered below the surface of their seemingly perfect marriage like jellyfish, floating lazy and almost invisible but ready to sting. “It’s not…” she began, not certain at all what she wanted to say.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I promised myself I wouldn’t get into this until we reached our destination. Let’s talk about something else.”
Only too happy to concur, she looked out the window. “Where are we going?”
He shook his head. “Now, I know this is your first kidnapping, so I’m going to go easy on you. But it’s questions like that that get a kidnappee into trouble.”
She hadn’t thought she’d ever laugh again in Jon’s company, but the giggle coming out of her mouth surprised her.
He turned to her, his expression just readable in the near dark. “I missed hearing you laugh.”
“I haven’t been doing much of it lately,” she admitted.
“You look tired. Why don’t you close your eyes? I’ll wake you when we get there.”
Amazingly, she found she could relax. He was right. She was tired. She felt as if she could sleep around the clock and still wake up wanting a nap. Between the pregnancy, and the stress of the past few days, she was as tired as she’d ever been.
“What’s the ransom?” she mumbled, her eyes closed.
“The ransom?”
“The kidnapping ransom. I hope I’m expensive.” A woman had a sense of her own value, after all.
“Oh, you are,” he said. “And worth every penny.”
She might have replied, but her eyes were so heavy, and she was so tired….
IT WAS FULL DARK when Caro woke. She blinked muzzily, responding instinctively to Jon softly calling her name. Oh, good, she thought in that moment between sleep and waking, Jon’s here. But then she woke completely and reality slapped her. Their separation was more than a bad dream, and she wasn’t waking in her own home in her own bed, but in the car, and where it was parked she had absolutely no idea.
He had her door open and was offering his hand to help her out. She was so tired she took it.
As she rose to her feet, she felt the chill in the air and inhaled the moist sharp scent of evergreens. She glanced up and saw a million stars bright in the black sky and knew they were miles from the city. “Where are we?”
“A friend’s cabin. Come on, I opened it up already.”
She took a step back, toward the car. “This is where you brought me? A remote cabin in the middle of nowhere? Who else is here?” Panic beat at her like tiny fists.
He shoved his hands on his hips, frustration in every line. “There’s no one else here. That was the whole point of kidnapping you. It’s the only way I can get five minutes of your time for you to listen to me.”
She stared at him, and even though she couldn’t see more than his outline, she heard the anger simmering in his tone.
It sparked her own temper. “Don’t you start with me. I didn’t ask to be brought here without so much as a toothbrush.” She glanced at the squat outline that had rustic cabin written all over it. Oh, man, she really hoped it had indoor plumbing. She had nothing but the clothes on her back. One torn bridesmaid’s dress, matching silk pumps in eau-denil-green, one pair of cream silk panties, a matching silk bra and a clutch purse containing tissues, a lipstick, a comb and her house keys.
“Relax, you won’t get a cavity before tomorrow. Anyway, I—”
“Tomorrow?” she screeched. “I’m not spending the night with you.”
“Yes. You are.”
“Give me those car keys!” She stuck out her hand, palm flat and shaking with anger.
She heard the jingle of keys and in the back of her mind thought how poor-spirited of him to give them up so easily, even as she envisioned driving off in a spurt of dirt, leaving him to enjoy his rustic outdoors weekend alone.
He held them up and she saw a flash of silver. “You want the car keys?”
“Yes.”
“Then go get ’em.” And he pulled his arm back as if he were a baseball pitcher.
“No! Don’t you dare…” But there was no point finishing the sentence. The keys flashed through the air like a shooting star and she heard a distant rustle of bush when they landed somewhere out in the blackness.
“STILL MAD AT ME?” he asked her. She sat in front of a fire, an old hand-crocheted afghan wrapped around her and an earthenware mug of tea in her hand. In the hour they’d been here, she’d calmed down. The cabin was quiet and soothing after the excitement of the wedding. It was so quiet she could almost hear the forest outside settling for the night. Inside, she was comfortably warm in front of the fire Jon had lit in the woodstove. The furniture was old, overstuffed and comfy, perfect against the cedar-paneled walls.
The tea was hot and soothing. Her companion was also hot, but the opposite of soothing. He made her think about things she didn’t want to face. He made her vulnerable.
“Mad doesn’t begin to cover it.” Secretly she was a bit impressed at his ungentlemanly methods. He’d always been so mannered, it was intriguing to see this rough-and-ready side of him. She thought of the speck of life growing inside her body. It wouldn’t be a pushover, then.
She had to think of their communal gene pool, hers and Jonathon’s, in ways she never had before. Beneath the concealment of the afghan she laid a hand across her tummy. It didn’t stick out yet, but there was a hardness there that had nothing to do with sit-ups.
She’d relaxed a bit on discovering the cabin boasted two bedrooms and that Jon had brought some of her clothes from their house, along with a brand-new toothbrush and toiletries. He knew her so well, he had most of the brands right.
“Are you tired?” he asked, settling down into an old leather recliner across from the couch where she sat.
“No.” Her sleep in the car had revived her. “You went to a lot of trouble to get me here for a talk. So talk.”
She’d decided that the sooner she listened to what he had to say, the sooner she could get out of here. She had no doubt Jon had a spare key to his car hidden somewhere, along with a cell phone. She’d never known him to cut himself off from the world. Never.
He seemed to hesitate and she glimpsed a hint of vulnerability before it disappeared.
“I don’t want children,” he said.
12
AN INARTICULATE SOUND came out of her throat. Part moan, part plea, part cry. Then nothing.
The fire crackled loudly in the emotion-filled silence and tears slowly filled Caro’s eyes. “You don’t want children.”
“No.” His voice was quiet and steady and she couldn’t have a clue how much effort it took him to keep it that way.
“Why…why not?”
“Because I’ve been an idiot.” He stared into the fire, unable to look at her while he lied.
“But—”
“Caro, I want you to listen to me. Please, just hear me out.
She blinked back tears, seemed to hug herself beneath the multicolored throw, and nodded. Her face appeared pale and he realized she was probably tired from all the wedding preparations.
“Would you rather talk about this in the morning?”
“No. Let’s get through it now. I think it’s best. So, you don’t want children.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you say something months ago? Before we drove ourselves half-crazy with basal temperatures and charts?”
He had to get this right so she’d believe him. Even though it hurt like hell to put his dream of a family away, he knew he had to do it for Caro’s sake. For the sake of their marriage. He’d been such a fool not to recognize that she’d latched on to the first excuse to run, not only from her own failure, but, if he knew his wife, she’d wanted to give him an out. If they split up he could find another woman to have a family with. She had that kind of generosity.