“What job? What do you mean?”
“I mean that this isn’t a test,” Hank replied. “We were hired.” Then he reached over Gideon’s shoulder, knocked twice on the door behind him, then ran down the porch steps, leaped into the green van and drove away.
It wasn’t until the van was gone and Gideon had an unobstructed view of the lake that he realized he was standing on his own front porch.
Or what used to be his front porch.
He heard the sound of a door opening and turned, not entirely surprised to see Prue standing in the doorway. The jacket slipped off his shoulder unnoticed as he observed she wore a bit more makeup than usual, particularly around her eyes. He wondered if the past two days had been as sleepless for her as they’d been for him.
But he didn’t care about that. She’d made the choice that determined their fates.
He shifted his weight to one leg and asked wearily, “You hired Hank’s new security force?”
“Yes,” she replied, opening the door wider. “He wasn’t sure how they’d perform, but here you are.”
“There were four of them,” he said, remaining where he stood. “Hard not to perform well under those circumstances.”
“But their quarry was you. Certainly that warranted extra force.”
“I don’t know. I was pretty well defeated in a one-to-one just the other day.”
Misery brimmed in her eyes at his reference to that day. The cool elegance of her appearance was suddenly replaced by vulnerability. “Please come inside, Gideon.”
He had to fight himself to stay sane. Everything in him responded to her and wanted her as he always did. And it hurt him to see her in pain, but he also hated the pain she could inflict on him.
“Prue, there’s no point—”
“Please!” she said urgently. “Just hear me out, then you’re free to go if you want to.”
“The last time I asked you to hear me out,” he reminded her coolly, “you refused.”
She nodded her regret. “Please be smarter than I was.”
While he vacillated, wondering if that was a concession of some sort, she took hold of his still-bound wrists and drew him inside.
PRUE COULDN’T DECIDE whether it helped or hindered her to think about how much was at stake here. Holding the image in her mind of a future with Gideon and the four children they wanted certainly firmed her already strong determination to make him understand why she’d reacted the way she did.
On the other hand, the possibility that he might just walk away as he had every right to do was making it impossible for her to think.
And his expression wasn’t helping. He just stood there in jeans and a simple dark blue sweater, his bound hands relaxed, his hair rumpled, his eyes still turbulent with the anger she’d seen in them the day he’d left.
She squared her shoulders and pulled herself together, knowing she had to try. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked. “I know that was a rude way to be awakened.”
He shifted his weight again. “No, thank you,” he said.
“Would you like to sit by the fire?” She indicated the wing chair. “It’s cold out there.”
His expression hardened. He stood just inside the door and didn’t budge. “I can listen standing up.”
“Okay.” She expelled a sigh, understanding that he was not going to make this easy for her. And while she certainly could have used a cup of coffee and a chair, she focused on that image of the two of them with their children. She stood several feet away from him and made herself look into his forbidding gaze.
“Just as I misunderstood what I saw—both times,” she said, plunging into the explanation she’d thought about for days, “I want to try to make you understand that what you saw me do when I found you with Claudia in my studio wasn’t real, either.”
An element of confusion entered his dark expression.
“Oh, it happened,” she amended quickly, “but that was the princess reaction, and even I can’t believe I did that a second time. Unless…” Her throat tried to close, but she swallowed to force the words through. “Unless you consider that I’ve so enjoyed this time we’ve had together and the thought of losing you again would be twice as hard now as it was the first time.”
He watched her but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. As far as she could determine, his expression didn’t change. She plunged on.
“You must have wanted to save our marriage, too,” she pointed out a little desperately. “You’re the one who plotted with your aunt to trick me into moving in with you.”
He didn’t look at all guilty or remorseful for the deceit, just completely detached from her pleas.
“I do love you and I do trust you. It was just that…” She hunched a shoulder and kept talking. “I mean, I know how I am. I’m a lot like Mom and she says that for some men, we’re just too much. Too demanding, I suppose, too weird, too…too much trouble.”
Still no change in those eyes that she could see, but she forced herself to hold their gaze as she said finally, “So…I wanted to try this last time to explain myself, but I’m sure it’s probably an awful prospect for you to have to live that way, so…” Her throat closed again and she could have sworn her heart stopped. Nothing in her wanted to allow the words out, but it was only fair to say them. “So I understand if you want to leave. Just know how much I’ll always love you.”
Her heart thudded when she thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes, then he turned and took the few steps to the door.
Her heart plummeted to her toes when his handcuffed hands turned the knob and opened it. He walked out and she put both hands to her mouth to stifle the sob.
Then her breath caught in her lungs when he reappeared, his jacket caught in his bound hands. He held it out to her. “There’s a knife in the right side pocket,” he said, a small grin quirking his lips. “Get these damn things off me.”
Every pulse in her body began to riot as she fumbled through his pockets with trembling fingers. She finally produced a large pocketknife. He opened it for her, then handed it back and held out his hands.
“Remember that if I bleed to death,” he warned, the dark expression now gone and replaced with love and longing, “you won’t get those four babies.”
She slipped the knife unerringly between his wrist and the plastic, and whipped it up with a force that made him snap his head back as the knife split the plastic.
“Well done,” he said, reclaiming the knife and dropping it into his pocket.
She threw herself into his arms and cried out all the misery of the past few days, their lost year and their lost baby.
“I’m sorry,” she wept over and over. “And I love you. I love you, Gideon.”
“I love you, too, Prue. I don’t ever want to be without you again.” He held her tightly and kissed her until she had to gasp for air.
They clung together for a long time, nuzzling and whispering promises. Then she felt a familiar weight against her ankle.
She drew out of Gideon’s arms to look down at Drifter, who meowed up at her. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, picking him up.
“Has he been missing?” Gideon asked.
“I thought he’d left us,” she replied, stroking the purring cat. “He hasn’t been home for two days.”
“Maybe he’s finally decided he lives here.”
She hugged Drifter, who yowled in protest and leaped down, headed for the bowl she’d kept full, hoping for his return.
“Do we live here?” she asked. “Do you want to stay?”
He nodded. “I like it here. I’ve got a job with Hank if I stay. But didn’t you want to go to New York?”
“I could commute,” she replied. “This is a great place to raise children.” She smiled into his eyes, her own heavy with love. “Incidentally, your mom called.”
That surprised him. “What about?”
“Apparently, Georgette told her we were staying together. She wants us to come for Thank
sgiving. She wants us to bring Mom and Jeffrey, and Paris and Randy. Georgette will be there. She flew home yesterday for some board thing she had to do, then she’s going to spend a month with your folks.”
He liked the sound of that. But it posed a question. “How did she know we were staying together if she left yesterday?”
Prue kissed his chin. “I told her what Hank and I were planning. I guess she had faith in my ability to convince you to stay.”
He had to accept that Prue was a good strategist. “And where’s Justine?”
“Gone to Seattle to visit her father before she flies home.”
“So we’re alone in the house?”
“Yes.”
“You want to make love in front of the fire?” he asked. “Like we used to in Maine?”
She made a contented little sound as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She curled into his chest as he carried her to the hearth rug. “We can start in front of the fire,” she said, kissing his earlobe. “But I want to make love everywhere.”
“I live to serve the princess,” he said.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3213-6
THE MAN SHE MARRIED
Copyright © 2004 by Muriel Jensen.
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* The Men of Maple Hill
The Man She Married Page 22