Their Child?

by Christine Rimmer

  He leaned back in his chair and took a drink from his coffee cup. It had been a very informative first day. Matt had been right. The company was in desperate need of reorganization and updating of procedures as part of the restructuring. He was certainly going to have his hands full in coming up with an overall restructuring recommendation that wouldn’t seem as if he was tearing the entire company apart and rebuilding it. Matt had explained to him that the company had suddenly exploded with success and expanded faster than he could keep up with it, which left him scrambling to meet the needs of his customers and his employees. He had finally come to the realization that even though the company was on sound financial footing, treating the symptoms wasn’t going to make things right. He needed a cure and Ry was the person he had chosen to supply it.

  Ry’s mind turned to thoughts of dinner that night, of being with Jean. So many times during the day he had wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her, to hold her body tightly against his, to revel in the sensation of her nearness. He knew he had to keep their personal relationship separate from his business interests. Was the temptation of being near her all day without being able to touch her going to be more than he could handle? It was a question that left him uneasy.

  He glanced at his watch, then gathered his notes and files. After placing them in his attaché case, he left Jarvis Custom Furniture and returned to his hotel suite. It had been a very enlightening first day on the job, but his thoughts no longer focused on work.

  He changed from his suit to jeans and a sweater. With Bill and Susan married and on their honeymoon, he was looking forward to a quiet and relaxing evening with Jean without the underlying stress of the wedding. The surprise of her involvement in his current business project would not put a damper on their evening together. After all, that was only a temporary work assignment and certainly didn’t have anything to do with them personally.

  He closed his eyes and visualized a quiet little Italian restaurant with a candlelit dinner and then an after-dinner drink in front of the fireplace at Jean’s condo—an evening with just the two of them, an evening where they could shut out the world and concentrate only on each other. More than anything he wanted her back in his arms.

  Thoughts tried to push into his mind, thoughts about the future, about where he and Jean were headed, but he shoved them aside. Tonight was for the present, not the future. It was for just the two of them. A little twinge of something, he wasn’t sure exactly what, shivered up his back. Somewhere along the line his emotions had become so intertwined with his desires that it was becoming more and more difficult to separate them in his mind.

  He shook his head to clear away the confusion. He had a couple of hours yet before he would be picking up Jean. He needed to use that time to finish putting his notes in order from the day’s observations.

  Ry worked quickly and efficiently, making maximum use of his time. As seven o’clock neared, he put his work materials away and left the hotel. Thoughts of Jean filled his mind as he drove to her condo. Tremors of excitement darted through his body as he rang her doorbell. Tonight would be just for the two of them. A moment later she opened the door.

  Any and all concerns and apprehensions Jean might have been harboring about both her existing personal and newly initiated work relationship with Ry melted the moment she saw him standing there. He stepped inside, pulled her into his arms, then shoved the door shut with his foot. His mouth instantly found hers, infusing her with a heated kiss that spoke of pure passion plus something else, some hidden longing she couldn’t identify. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with an equal amount of passion.

  Her senses tingled with a nearly out of control excitement as his tongue brushed against hers. Tremors of anticipation raced through her body recalling the night they had made love. She melted into him. His kiss deepened as he caressed her shoulders. She ran her fingers through his thick hair. Whatever he wanted, she would willingly give.

  Then just as she began to entertain thoughts of making love with Ry instead of going out to dinner, a quick surge of panic invaded the sensual fog that surrounded her, pulling her back to reality. She took a step back, breaking off the delicious kiss.

  “Ry…I think…” The heated flush of excitement spread across her cheeks and forehead. Everything about him—the sound of his voice, the sight of him, the sensation of his touch, the fire of his kiss—pushed her senses into overload. Somehow she had to be strong. She had to resist the all-too-temping seduction that continually reached out from him and grabbed her whenever they were together. She loved him, but even after they had made love she still didn’t have any idea where his emotions stood.

  He took a steadying breath, acquiescing to her unspoken words. “You’re right. We should probably get going if we’re planning on having dinner. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, I’m ready.” She flashed an engaging smile, partly to cover the inner panic that continued to shove at her, doing battle with her desires. “And I’m hungry.”

  They drove to a little Italian restaurant in the Pioneer Square Historic District where they were seated in a quiet alcove away from the most crowded part of the room. The candlelight flickered, casting a soft glow across their table. The romantic atmosphere settled over them, providing an intimate closeness.

  “Well…” Jean tried to sound casual in spite of the nervousness that continued to jitter inside her. “How did your first day at work go? Was it what you had anticipated?”

  He took her hand. His voice came out as a sexy whisper. “Let’s not waste our time together talking about stuffy work things.” He kissed her palm. “You look lovely. That blouse is a really good color for you.”

  “Thank you.” Little tremors of delight raced from the place his lips had touched to every corner of her body, but it did not negate the tinge of disappointment at the way he had sidestepped her question.

  As much as Jean wanted to ask Ry again about the first day of his work project, she couldn’t seem to find the right words so that it didn’t sound as if she was prying into his business matters or pushing the subject, especially after he had changed topics without answering her initial question. Logically she knew his day-to-day observations and conclusions weren’t anything that he should be sharing with her, but she also knew his final recommendations could have a very definite impact on her job. If his final report showed her department to be disorganized or poorly run, the results could be disastrous for her.

  “You’re suddenly very quiet this evening. Is everything okay?” Ry asked.

  He sounded sincere, but she knew he probably didn’t want to hear what was really on her mind. “I was just studying the menu. Everything looks so good. As I said when we left my place, I’m hungry but I can’t decide what to order.” She looked up at him, making eye contact. “What looks good to you?”

  A sexy smile lit up his handsome face. “Hmm…that’s a loaded question.” He squeezed her hand, sending a heated surge of desire through her body. “What looks good to me happens to be sitting right across the table.”

  She felt the heated embarrassment spread across her cheeks. “I was talking about what to order from the menu.”

  He feigned a sudden understanding of what she had really meant. “Oh…you want to know what I’m going to have for dinner.”

  They ordered their food. Ry munched on a bread stick as they waited. “How about a movie tomorrow night? We could go out or…” He reached for her hand again, “I could pick up some deli food, rent a video and we could spend the evening at your place.”

  Once again the sensation of his touch sent waves of excitement through her body. She seemed to lose any and all control over her actions. “That sounds great.”

  “Any particular movie you’d like to watch?” He reached toward her cheek, running his fingertips softly across her skin.

  Her words came out in a breathless whisper. “I’m sure whatever you pick out will be fine.”

  When their dinner arrived
, they took their time eating. They engaged in intimate conversation while savoring the meal. They lingered over coffee and dessert. Following dinner they walked a few doors down the street to a small jazz club where they enjoyed the music. It was nearly midnight when they returned to Jean’s condo.

  As much as she wanted to invite Ry in, she knew to do so could only lead to one thing. It wasn’t that she had misgivings about the night they did make love. Quite the contrary. It would live in her mind as her most cherished memory, but a swirl of confusion about Ry’s feelings compounded by her concerns about their not having taken precautions when they made love, had her apprehensive about what to do.

  “It was a delightful evening. Thank you for dinner.” She noted the quick look of surprise followed by disappointment that darted across his face at her decision to say good-night at the front door.

  “It was my pleasure.” He leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Ry returned to his car and drove back to the hotel. Troubling thoughts accompanied him. He had the distinct impression that something was bothering Jean, but when he asked her about it she had dismissed his concerns. Was it his imagination? Were his own fears about how much he cared for her causing him to read something into a situation that wasn’t there?

  As soon as he entered his suite he saw the message light flashing on the phone. There were two messages for him. One was from his office manager in Chicago giving a brief description of a problem and asking him to call her as soon as he got in. The other message sent a cold shudder down his back immediately followed by a quick surge of anger. It was from Marjorie—his Ex-wife.

  They had been married for only two months and divorced for almost ten years. Even with everything he had been through growing up, his marriage was the single most horrible experience of his life. Marjorie had lied to him, manipulated him into marriage by claiming she was pregnant with his child, then tried to take him to the cleaners in a divorce settlement after he discovered she wasn’t pregnant. Fortunately for him, her lies and manipulations were held against her and she was not awarded anything, not even alimony.

  He clenched his hand into a fist and tightened his jaw in a hard line. What could she want with him after all these years and more importantly, how did she know where to find him? One thing was for sure, he did not want to talk to her and had no intention of returning her call.

  He deleted the messages, checked the time and decided to call his office manager in spite of the fact that it was after midnight in Seattle and much later in Chicago. She had said it was important and she was not prone to exaggeration.

  He dialed the number. “Helen? I’m sorry about the late hour, but you said it was important. Did I wake you?”

  “No, I was waiting for your call. There’s a problem with Glen Windemere.”

  Ry listened to her report. “I hoped the steps I took would have resolved the problem, but obviously not. I guess this means only one thing. I need to make a quick trip back to Chicago.” He grabbed his day planner and studied his schedule. “Let’s see…I can fly out Thursday evening after work, take care of the problem on Friday and hopefully be back here Friday evening or Saturday at the latest.” He jotted notes in his day planner, then set it aside. “I want you to set up a meeting with those involved for ten o’clock Friday morning. I’ll want to meet with my attorney before the ten o’clock meeting. Have him meet me at the office at eight o’clock Friday morning.”

  “Do you want me to pick you up at the airport?”

  “No, there’s no need. Thanks for the offer, but I can take a taxi.”

  As soon as Ry finished his phone conversation, he turned his mind to his work priorities for the rest of the week. He would have Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday at Jarvis Custom Furniture. He needed to step up his work schedule in order to finish with the first week’s work a day early, otherwise it would throw the next three weeks off schedule. Even though it was late, he pulled a file folder from his attaché case and began making notes.

  A few minutes later the phone rang.

  He grabbed the receiver, a little annoyed at the interruption, yet curious about who it could be at such a late hour. “Hello.”

  “Is that you Ry darling?”

  The syrupy sweet voice cut through him like chalk screeching on a blackboard. Every muscle in his body tensed as he steeled himself against whatever was to come. There wasn’t any hint of a gracious manner, courtesy or polite demeanor in his voice. There was, however, an unmistakable harsh edge that clearly conveyed his displeasure at her call.

  “What do you want, Marjorie?”

  “I just wanted to talk to you, to find out how you are. I’m concerned about you, Ry. You work so hard. Even though we’re divorced…a terrible mistake in my opinion…I still care a great deal about you.”

  His irritation erupted in anger. “Knock it off, Marjorie. You’ve never cared about anyone or anything except yourself. I don’t know what you’re trying to sell, but I can assure you I’m not buying. How did you know where to find me?”

  “I called your office in Chicago and that nice receptionist told me you were in Seattle. I simply called all the major hotels until I found the one where you were registered.”

  “Apparently I need to have a chat with my office staff about proper procedure.” He made a quick note in his day planner about discussing the problem with Helen, although he suspected it was the temporary agency receptionist filling in for a sick employee who was probably responsible for the slipup.

  “So you found me.” He made no attempt to hide his annoyance. “What do you want?”

  “I want to see you, darling. I thought we could have dinner, maybe talk about our future?”

  His anger exploded. “I’m not your darling. And as for the future—we have no future. We didn’t have one ten years ago and we certainly don’t have one now. We have nothing to talk about and dinner is definitely out of the question.”

  Ry slammed down the receiver before she had an opportunity to respond. The resentment seethed inside him. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm his inner turmoil. The depth of the anger produced by the brief and totally unexpected intrusion by his ex-wife into his life surprised him. Even though he wanted to put the disaster of his short-lived marriage totally out of his mind and dismiss it from his life, he had not been able to do it.

  Occasionally he wondered if he had allowed that trauma to impact his relationships with women. Then Jean popped into his mind. Was his fear of what he felt for her the result of his horrible marriage? It was not a new thought, but one that was becoming more difficult to dismiss. It was something he didn’t want to dwell on or deal with.

  But thoughts of Jean refused to go away—the way she felt in his arms, the earthy heat of her kiss, the night they had made love with such intense passion—it was all burned into his reality and he knew it would stay there forever.

  He stared at the file folder on the desk and gave a sigh of resignation. He knew there was no point in trying to get any more work done that night. He would have to revamp his schedule in the morning. Right now his mind was too occupied with thoughts of Jean to concentrate on anything else. He went to bed, but sleep did not come easily. Thoughts continued to swirl around in his mind, uneasy thoughts about where he and Jean were headed and what kind of a future they might have.

  Jean applied her lipstick and gave her hair a final run through with the hairbrush. She grabbed her purse, jacket and car keys, then headed for work.

  She had expected Ry to be there early in order to be present when the employees arrived so he could observe their start-up procedures for their workday routine. That seemed to be the type of detail he would be interested in. To her surprise, he was nowhere in sight. She went about her business, not sure what to expect from Ry when he did arrive.

  He had pointedly avoided her attempt the previous night to talk about his observations of his first day on the job. In retrospect, she knew she was wro
ng to have asked about it. He couldn’t ethically discuss business matters with her that he probably hadn’t even mentioned to Matt Jarvis yet. It would be very unprofessional on his part, but that didn’t lessen her anxiety about the situation.

  Ry made his appearance about an hour later, said a respectful and polite hello to everyone, then got down to business. Jean kept as much of a watchful eye on his activities as she could while still being able to handle her own work functions. The day seemed to drag by for her. She kept looking at the clock wanting it to be time to leave. Finally five o’clock arrived. She cleaned off her desk and hurried home.

  Jean set the table for dinner, not quite sure what to put out since she didn’t know what food he would be bringing. Then the doorbell rang. Her heart leaped into her throat and her pulse raced faster. She rushed to the door.

  Ry stepped inside, placed the sack from the deli and the videotape on a small table in the entranceway, then quickly pulled her into his arms. He captured her mouth with all the passion he had kept inside during the day, passion that could not be confined any longer. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the bedroom, but after the way she had chosen not to invite him in last night when they had returned from their date he knew he needed to be more cautious. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel rushed or uncomfortable in any way. Or to think that sex was his only interest in her, something that couldn’t be further from the truth.

  He finally released her. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

  Jean self-consciously glanced toward the open front door. “I think we’d better close the door before we give the neighbors and everyone driving down the street any more of a show than we already have.” She closed and locked the door.

  Ry picked up the food and movie, deposited the videotape on top of the television and continued on to the kitchen. “I wasn’t sure what to get. I finally settled on turkey sandwiches and a fresh fruit salad.” He pulled the items from the sack along with a bottle of chilled white wine.