I gritted my teeth. If there was anything I could tell the general male population out there, it’s this: don’t make mad, passionate love to a woman and then tell her she’s your friend. I got up, snaked the peach out from under me where it had somehow landed and threw it in the basket.
He was stupid enough and male enough to look puzzled. “Bad peach?”
“Bad apple.” I meant him but he was too dense to get it. “I’ve lost my appetite.” Angrier than I’ve ever been in my life, I stalked toward the bathroom door.
“Anne?” I heard his voice behind me but once inside the bathroom, I locked the door. I turned the shower on and tried to soap away the memory of him, but of course it was still there, even in the soap.
My temper riding high, I wrapped myself in the white hotel robe and marched back into the bedroom.
Justin was still there, still naked, still beautiful, still aroused, but he wasn’t eating. He was sitting on the bed, waiting. What was it about men that their own nakedness doesn’t bother them? “Anne, if I’ve offended you…”
“You haven’t offended me.” I rounded on him, startling him. “You’ve freed me. For years, I’ve built up this fantasy about you. Wonderful Justin, beautiful Justin, thoughtful Justin. In two minutes, you wiped it all away. You’re an unfeeling, spoiled—“I struggled to find an epithet that suited me, “rich brat. Now get out of my bed.”
He stood and came toward me, his hands up to cup my shoulders, his magnificent body on full display. “Anne. I’m trying to protect you, keep you from getting hurt.”
I knocked those beautiful, sexy hands away. “You should have tried to “protect me” before you took me to bed, not after.” I looked at him with all the fury I had in my soul. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
“I just wanted to make it clear that this…we…don’t have a future.”
“Trust me, I get it.” I picked up the fruit basket and made as if to throw it at him. “Now, GET OUT.”
He held up his hands. “I should have known better than be truthful with you.”
“I should have known better than to have sex with you. You’re a bastard, Justin Cameron. A spoiled, rich bastard.” I turned the basket on its side, readying it for flight.
“My mother might disagree with you.”
“You think you can reach out and take whatever you want.”
“You seemed quite willing to give me whatever I wanted.”
“Don’t remind me.” I lifted the basket and took aim.
“I‘m leaving, I‘m leaving.” He grabbed up his guitar and was almost through the door when I tossed the basket at him, sending oranges, mangoes, peaches flying. Of course, none of them hit him. He dodged every flying piece of fruit and slipped through the connecting door just in time to miss getting hit.
Chapter 9
Anne
Being the ‘responsible person’ I am, I picked up the scattered fruit from the floor and piled it back in the basket. The peaches looked bruised.
“Aren’t we all,” I said, and then realized I was talking to a fruit.
The next morning, I ate breakfast in the dining room. There was a dish of fruit on the table, but I didn’t touch it. I hoped never to see another peach again as long as I lived.
There was no sign of Justin. I suppose he was packing to go to the clinic. I’d promised Liz Cameron I’d go with him, so I had no recourse but to keep my word. After I finished breakfast, much as I disliked doing it, I knocked on his door. When he opened it, looking grouchy as an old bear, I said coolly, “I’m going with you to the clinic.”
“I’m perfectly capable of calling a cab and carrying my bag out to the car like a big boy.”
Man, he did sarcastic really well. What did he have to be mad about? He turned away to close his suitcase with a loud snap.
“My, we’re petulant this morning, aren’t we?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m in high good humor.” His sarcasm was at its peak. “I’m happy as hell to be going into a strange place, have strange people shoot me up with God knows what and then be forced to lie in the dark in absolute stillness for five days. How would you feel about that?” He put out his hand to push me aside and thought better of touching me. “Would you move? You’re blocking the door.”
I followed him into the elevator, which earned me a nasty scowl, and went out to stand beside him while he hailed a taxi. The tropical wind whipped his hair around his head and made him look devastatingly handsome as he turned to me. Or turned on me. “I don’t need you. I don’t want you. Go back to the hotel and sit and wait because you have to, but don’t try to contact me while I’m in there. Don’t call me or text me, they’re taking away my phone. In other words, stop being so bloody responsible!”
I gazed back at him as if he were a child having a temper tantrum that I was treating with serene calmness. “Our cab is here.”
He shot me another angry look, but he handed his bag to the cabbie and didn’t say anything more until we got to the clinic.
“Take her back to the hotel,” Justin growled at the cabbie.
“No. Wait here for me.” I was determined to see the inside of this clinic. If it was shoddy or dirty, I’d haul Justin right back out on the street and onto the first boat going home.
The outside of the clinic was ordinary stucco, but it looked clean and cared for. Inside, I was pleasantly surprised to see modern leather furniture reposing on a pristine tile floor. A bizarrely blue orchid sat on the counter. So far, so good. The receptionist, a dark haired Latin beauty, was extremely solicitous of Justin, assuring him that he would be well taken care of. I’d wager it wasn’t every day that someone walked into this place with Justin’s blond Britannic good looks.
Then a tiny Japanese nurse in a starched white uniform came to fetch him. She picked up his case and Justin walked toward the door that led to the treatment rooms without a backward glance at me.
The little nurse saw the expression on my face. “Don’t worry. I take good care of him.”
The first thing I did after I left Justin was go to the hotel pharmacy and buy birth control pills. I told myself I was perfectly safe, that I’d get my period in a day or two. And as for the future, it was doubtful I’d ever be with Justin again. Still it wouldn’t hurt to start taking them. Then a thought occurred. If I were already pregnant, it probably wasn’t a good idea to take birth control pills. I’d better hold off for a couple of days until I could take a pregnancy test. I was confident that I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant two days before my period was due, but it wouldn’t hurt to err on the side of caution.
I stocked up with four paperback romances and returned to the clinic. I was assured that it would be perfectly all right for me to stretch out in the big leather chair in the reception room. Even though I couldn’t see Justin, I wanted to be near in case there was an emergency. Well, that wasn’t the entire reason. I just wanted to be near him. He’d know I was here, waiting. This would be my life for the next five days. Sitting. Waiting.
Justin
I tried to put myself in a state of numbness where neither the world nor I existed. People came and went, the injections came and went, and the food came and went. The clock was the only thing that didn’t come and go. It stayed right where it was. I would look at the time and then after an hour went by, I would look at the clock again and it would be a minute later.
A sweet little Japanese woman was my nurse during the day. “Your wife, she still wait for you. You very lucky man to have such a good wife.”
I was irritated and irritable, too irritable to correct the nurse‘s misconception that Anne was my wife. “Would you tell her to go back to the hotel, please? She doesn’t need to be here.”
“All of us give her message. She just shake head and say, “Tell him I stay.”
It’s okay. It was only the second day. By tomorrow, she’d give up and go do something fun. After all, she was on a Caribbean island with soft tropical breezes and a sweet summer sun, I tho
ught bitterly. She shouldn’t be hanging around the clinic waiting for a migraine-ridden, nose dripping, exceptionally rude man, who’d taken her sweet body and then tried to drive her away. Maybe she’d even pick up a caballero. Except I think those guys are in Mexico. Or Spain.
I struggled to put the time we’d spent together out of my mind, but it was all I had to think about. With all the control I could scrape up, I tried to forget her. Not happening. I’d close my eyes and see her, completely naked, laughing at me. And making me laugh. When had a woman ever made me laugh?
Anne Wentworth was one luscious package. Yeah, she was beautiful. But she was more than that. She was…fun, yes. Smart as a whip, ready to give back as good as she got. Damn, I couldn’t even think how to describe that extra something she had. You knew she had the right stuff. It was almost as if there were sixty seconds left in the football game and you threw her a pass, you knew she’d catch it and score. It’s hard to believe she hadn’t found a man to love her the way she ought to be loved, for now and forever. God knew it would never be me.
Anne
I sat in that waiting room ten thousand, nine hundred and ninety eight years, seven months, six weeks and three days. In dog years that’s about six trillion. At least that how long it seemed. I read all four books which was a feat in itself because as each consecutive day went by, I became more anxious about Justin, even though the little Japanese nurse and I had become the best of friends and she reported to me daily that Mr. Justin he doing well.
When an eternity went by and Friday afternoon rolled around, I had a cab waiting to take us both back to the hotel. Justin came out of the treatment room looking wan. That set off the first alarm. There seemed to be nothing of the old Justin there. He just gave me this look as if he knew who I was and didn’t care. “Get me out of here,” he muttered under his breath.
By now, all the alarm bells were clanging violently. I knew better than to ask how he felt or what was wrong.
Back in his hotel room, it was a measure of his lack of spirit that he allowed me to undress him and put him to bed. “I’m supposed to lie flat on my back,” he grumbled. “I can’t sleep on my back.”
“I’ll get you some extra pillows, prop you up. That might help.”
I found three and tucked them up under his head, my heart beating like mad every minute because I was so upset. I would have preferred the sarcastic, petulant Justin to this ghost who didn’t seem to care about anything that went on around him—or anybody.
He closed his eyes, shutting me out. “Why did you sit at the clinic every day? The truth.”
“Because if anything happened and you became critical, I was to order an air vac helicopter and get you back to the States as fast as I could.”
“Even though I’m not supposed to fly?”
“Even though.”
“Liz’s orders?”
“Hunter’s.”
He lay back down and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “Hunter always said a guy had to cover every contingency.”
“Your family cares a great deal about you.”
“Yeah. So much so that they gave me a paid companion. As an added bonus, she’s good in bed. Damned good.”
It was hard to stand there and take that insult, but stand there I did. I might fight with a Justin who was battle ready, but I couldn‘t spar with this Justin who seemed to have all the spirit knocked out of him. “There’s water on your night stand. I’m going to sit with you a bit in case you decide you want something to eat.”
“If I had the energy, I’d throw you out. But I don’t have the energy. Do what you like. You will, anyway.”
With the room dark and me having so many restless nights while Justin was gone, I felt incredibly weary. Justin was already asleep. I curled up in the flower bedecked recliner and let myself relax. Justin was back. He was strangely not himself, but he was back.
Chapter 10
Anne
We returned to the cruise ship the next day. Justin and I were polite strangers. Before we boarded, he said, “Would you like me to get that extra bag for you,” and I said, “No, thank you, I can manage quite well.” After we boarded he said, “Would you like to go to the Lido deck for a drink, now that you‘re such a drinking woman?” and I said, “I think I’ll go to my cabin and get settled in.” He said, “That sounds like a good idea,” and I said, “I’ll see you later then.” He said, “See you later.”
The only bright spots in my life were the daily messages I’d received on the island from Liz telling me that Natalie was doing very well, that she was regaining color and that she was eating, and now while I was on the ship, the Johnsons, who were also sailing home, more or less adopted me because of my interest in Belinda. Without Justin to monopolize me, I spent time listening to Belinda play. It was truly a pleasure to see that little child bent over the piano keys, making music that she shouldn’t have been able to understand, let alone play.
The rest of the cruise home was without incident. I saw Justin at meals, and that was it. My heart ached. I thought there must be something I could do to breach the gap between us, but he was cold and aloof. He wanted nothing to do with me. After the things I said to him, I could hardly blame him.
I gave up any attempt to intrude on him. The fight had gone out of me. I had no idea whether the treatment worked or how long it would take to know if he’d been cured. I suspected that he hadn’t.
I arrived home. Rochester was darkly clouded as usual, such a contrast to the bright tropical sun of Puerto Rico. I didn’t realize it but Thanksgiving had come and gone while we were on the island and it was three weeks until Christmas. I shoved my suitcases in the door of my little house and went at once to see Natalie. She was still in the hospital and would be there for another week. I could not believe the difference. Her color was excellent and her spirits were off the charts. Her nurses told me she was the perfect patient. I returned home from my visit with her, knowing my adventure was over and I would have to go back to work on Monday. Then it hit me. I should have had my period by now. And I’d forgotten to get a pregnancy test.
It couldn’t be, I thought as I raced to the drugstore. It mustn’t be. But when I got home and peed on the stick, that little pink line was there. I was pregnant with Justin’s child.
I sank down on my bed. I had always wanted children but sometime in the distant future when I was married to a man I loved. Not like this. I had seriously miscalculated.
Justin would be furious. He’d think I did it on purpose to trick him into marrying me. Right now, I couldn’t care less if we were married. I think it would be better if we weren’t. We fight like cats and dogs. What child needs that? But as for the child…there was nothing in the world I wanted more than Justin’s child. Whatever happened between us, nothing must happen to this child. I began to think about the future. I would have to let them know at work in a few months, before I began to show. I could continue to work as long as there were no danger of a miscarriage. With Natalie’s medical bills paid, my salary would now be more than sufficient to care for the three of us.
You’ll have to let Justin know. He has that right.
Yes, I’d have to let him know. But not just yet. I undressed, knowing it was too soon to see any signs of pregnancy on my body, the mask around the mouth, the darkening of the nipples.
Two days later, I was at home in my little house contemplating breakfast, thinking I should start eating something more nourishing than a diet bar and coffee, when there was a knock at the door. I was in my comfortable flannel pants and shirt, but when I looked out, it was Liz Cameron standing on my doorstep. It had begun to snow and her headscarf was already covered with white. Immediately, I opened the door.
“Hello, Anne.”
“It’s nice to see you, Liz.” I stepped back so she could come in.
She still had not had her baby. She looked very, very close. That’s what I would look like in nine months, I thought.
“I’m sorry to come so e
arly, but Hunter watches over me like a hawk now that I’m close and I knew this was the best time to get out of the house.”
“It’s perfectly all right. I was just going to grab a bite to eat and go see Natalie. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for her. There are no words. You saved her life. I‘ll be in your debt forever.”
“Things have worked out well for her. Not so well for Justin, I’m afraid.”
My heart sank. “The therapy didn’t work?”
Liz shook her head. “He got a migraine the second night on the ship. And his nose is still dripping.”
So that‘s why he had avoided me. “I feel so bad. He hated the treatment so much. I’m so sorry it didn’t work.”
“What the family can’t understand is why he’s so depressed. Before, he’d borne the headaches and the dripping with his wonderful sense of humor. Now he’s a different person. He’s so grouchy that he’s snapping at everyone. Those are on the good days. Other days, he’s morose and won‘t talk. Hunter can’t get him interested in a project. But the worst part is…Justin won’t pick up the guitar. We’re at our wits end. I came to see if you knew anything that might help us.”
I tried to be as honest as I could, but I didn’t know what had caused this change in Justin. He’d made it clear that I wasn’t to consider myself a permanent part of his life. It surely couldn’t have been our time together. “Is it possible that he had high hopes for a cure and now he’s doubly disappointed?”
“That was one thing that encouraged us to go ahead with the treatment, the fact that Justin understood there was only a thirty per cent chance of complete recovery. Anne,” she put her hand out to me, “I know this is a lot to ask but can you come and see him? I have this gut feeling,” she laughed and patted her tummy, “and heaven knows that’s a lot of feeling…that somehow you hold the key to this.”
Wooing Justin: The Cameron Family Saga, Book Two Page 7