by Maggie Cox
The memory sapped her confidence and filled her with doubt. He’d been purely practical from the start—bringing her home, buying her a pregnancy test, making plans to see the doctor when the result was positive. Everything except expressing what impact the news had had on him emotionally. Did he even really want this child? Sorrel knew how important Reece’s career was to him. Did he perhaps fear that his new responsibilities as a father would encroach upon his absolute dedication to his work?
‘Is that surprising, given the circumstances?’
He glanced away for a moment, as if having to contain his feelings in this most public arena was a constraint he’d rather not have to deal with right now.
‘We never really discussed children, did we? I knew you were fond of your nephew and niece, but I assumed you’d want to wait at least a few more years down the line before having one of our own. You’re only twenty-five, Sorrel. The last thing I ever wanted for you was you feeling tied down at becoming a mother at such a young age.’
‘Why should having a baby make me feel tied down?’ Her frown becoming even more pronounced, Sorrel pursed her pretty mouth, then chose her next words carefully, sudden optimism surfacing unexpectedly from somewhere deep inside her. ‘We could still travel with you sometimes, couldn’t we? Especially as the baby gets older? I wouldn’t have to stay confined to the house all the time simply because I was a mother.’
‘Funny, that. So you’d be willing to travel with me when the baby comes, yet before it’s always been such a problem…like some kind of penance inflicted on you by virtue of being my wife?’
‘What fun is it going sightseeing on my own while you’re busy working, even if I might be in one of the most amazing places in the world? At least if I had the baby with me I’d have some company!’
Torn between frustration at her crazy logic and the unexpected humour that had sneaked up on him by surprise, Reece found himself leaning towards Sorrel and clasping her hand. Focusing on her beautiful, impassioned face, he could do nothing to halt the heated flow of blood that suddenly rushed into the lower half of his body and made every muscle exquisitely tense.
His appetite for food fled faster than when Reece was a boy, when he’d run and hide from his mother when she yelled at him to come and clean up his room. His appetite for wanting Sorrel to wrap her endlessly long slim legs around his lean hard middle and give him what he so badly yearned for became an obsession.
‘We used to be so good together,’ he reminded her, his tone lowered intimately as his hungry, examining gaze practically devoured her on the spot. ‘What happened to us, Sorrel?’
For a tremulously long and arresting moment Sorrel allowed his destroyingly erotic green-eyed stare to seduce her. Her body—deprived of his love and affection for three tormenting months—inwardly preened itself like a cat stretched out beneath the healing soporific rays of a warm noonday sun. A hot, needy sensation surged into her nipples and made them long restlessly for his touch—his hands, his lips, and his heavenly taut-muscled chest as he pressed himself against her.
It was difficult to sit still as the powerfully erotic memory of what his touch could do to her took blatant hold. Unashamed carnal need pulsed between her thighs and Sorrel squeezed them tightly together to try and control her hungry, almost rapacious desire for her husband’s attention there, too. The hurt and confusion that had kept her company for so long started inexorably to melt, and her lips started to edge helplessly towards a smile.
‘It doesn’t mean that things can’t be good between us again just because there’s a baby coming. You can’t deny that you feel anything for me, Sorrel…I can see it in your eyes.’
Sorrel recaptured her smile in an instant as she assimilated Reece’s words with ice-cold clarity. Her fears about him not really wanting the baby suddenly appeared distressingly correct, and all too dramatically any pleasure she might have found in anticipating his touch was ripped away—like a blissful dream that had suddenly and shockingly turned into a nightmare. She wrenched her hand deliberately free from his grasp.
‘What do you mean “it doesn’t mean that things can’t be good between us again just because there’s a baby coming”? You’re against this pregnancy, aren’t you? You don’t want our child at all! I knew you didn’t! Your only thought is to use the baby against me because I want it!’ she snapped accusingly. Immediately she saw the heat and desire in Reece’s eyes shockingly withdraw. In their place was an isolated wasteland that would make even the frozen outreaches of Alaska appear more like sunny Spain.
‘Such a blatantly absurd lie doesn’t even deserve a reply,’ he told her scathingly, then signalled a nearby waiter for their bill.
The evening was spoiled before it had even really got started. Her heart throbbing hard inside her chest, Sorrel pushed to her feet. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come out with such a cruel accusation, but it was too late to take back the words now. And Reece still hadn’t said anything to reassure her. It was such a shame, when he’d been reaching out to her at last—showing her that he hadn’t forgotten the hot sexual sparks that they’d generated so spontaneously between them.
In spite of her doubts, she couldn’t help regretting her impulsive and unguarded behaviour. But with the ruins of her hopes and dreams silently devastating her, she started to walk away from their table. Reece immediately got to his feet and captured her arm. His touch had a distinct hint of steel in the fingers that wrapped around her slender-boned wrist, and for a moment Sorrel couldn’t catch her breath.
‘Where are you going?’ he demanded, in a censorious undertone of barely contained fury.
‘To the—to the ladies’ washroom. Where do you think I’m going?’
He let her arm fall free with no lessening of the contempt in his glance. ‘Don’t be too long,’ he instructed tersely. ‘As soon as you get back we’re leaving.’
It was a disaster. They were a disaster. Alone at the restaurant table, Reece took a longer slug of his wine and couldn’t help wishing it were something far stronger. He’d give a lot right now to ease the almost unbearable tension that was painfully criss-crossing his midsection, making his whole body feel permanently bruised inside and out. It would be great to simply delude himself that there must be a way for him and Sorrel to find a way forward out of the mess they were in, but he seriously doubted it. However, if there wasn’t…then God help their poor child.
But still…there was no way that Reece was just going to let Sorrel simply walk out on him again. More than ever she was his responsibility now, and he had a duty towards both her and the baby. If he did nothing else over the coming days and weeks he would get her to see that there was no getting away from that one immutable fact. They were not going to divorce and Sorrel was not going to cut him out of her life and remove both herself and their baby out of the sphere of his very necessary protection.
They were in this thing together and they would stay together—as one united family. Nothing else would do… Reece was absolutely resolved on that.
‘Reece, mi querido! But how wonderful to see you!’
He glanced up in surprise at the confident ringing tones and the dark Latin beauty of the well-dressed woman in front of him. Angelina Cortez was a diva in every sense of the word. Reece had promoted nearly all of her concerts in the USA and Europe, and if her relentless demands had sometimes almost driven him crazy—well, he would forgive her every one the moment she opened her mouth to sing. The woman’s exquisite voice could make the hardest heart melt at the emotion and passion that it emitted. The international acclaim she had attracted was more than deserved.
Rising to his feet, Reece kissed her affectionately on both cheeks, his senses momentarily hijacked by her seductive perfume and the dark flashing eyes that could no doubt have the same shocking effect as a stun gun on any healthy male who happened to be in the same vicinity.
‘Angelina. You’re looking more beautiful than ever, I see. What are you doing here in London? I thought you were tak
ing a few months off to spend more time with little Emmanuel?’
‘I am…I have! We have been travelling, my little son and I, and enjoying every minute of it! We flew in from Milan only yesterday…but what about you? Are you having dinner with a client, or is this a rare night off for you, querido? I’ve always said that you work too hard…even if it has been to my benefit!’
‘I’m here with Sorrel…my wife.’
As he smiled into Angelina’s interested eyes Reece glanced over her shoulder towards the other end of the restaurant, where Sorrel had disappeared in search of the ladies’ washroom. He felt a twinge of concern that she was taking so long.
‘You mean the delicate little blonde with the pretty blue eyes? You see—I remember! It would be charming to meet her properly and have dinner together some time, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, I’m sure Sorrel would enjoy that.’
He wasn’t sure at all, but for politeness’ sake he said it anyway.
‘And in the meantime you and I must meet for lunch, Reece. I have been in talks with my agent this morning, and he wants me to do another American tour with perhaps one or two exclusive European dates thrown in. Of course you must promote me, as you did before. I will ring you in the next few days, OK? I am staying at the Dorchester, so I will book us a table there.’
Now wasn’t the time to explain to Angelina that he would rather not take on such a big commitment with his wife being pregnant. But when they had lunch together, Reece would put her in the picture and give his regrets.
Feeling slightly on edge that Sorrel still hadn’t returned, he loosened his collar a little and forced himself to smile at the ravishing star. ‘I’ll look forward to hearing from you.’
‘Adios, querido. So lovely to see you again!’
Her feet inexorably slowing on the thick red carpet as she exited the Ladies’, Sorrel watched in mute distress as she saw her husband embracing a stunningly beautiful brunette. Recognising the renowned opera star Angelina Cortez, she recalled the weeks and weeks Reece had spent away from home last year, travelling the world with the Spanish singer while she toured. The only contact she’d had during that interminable time they were apart had been Reece’s daily telephone calls, and sometimes they’d only lasted a brief minute or two before he’d had to get back to giving all his attention to Angelina.
Had being apart from his wife been the hardship that it had been for Sorrel with him away? Somehow she didn’t think so. Not when she rested her eyes on the beauty and elegance of the fascinating woman by his side. Jealousy and hurt immobilised her and made her knees feel decidedly shaky. Deliberately waiting until she saw Angelina move away from their table, Sorrel took her time walking back to join her husband.
‘Is everything all right?’
Unable to hide the genuine concern that had made him so on edge at her absence, Reece studied her hard.
‘Fine.’
Shrugging her shoulders, Sorrel picked up the black cashmere wrap that she’d left draped across her chair.
‘Are you ready to leave now?’
‘Can I get you anything?’
Pausing at the drinks cabinet, Reece undid his tie, shrugged off his jacket and threw them both on the back of a nearby couch. Sorrel had hardly spoken two words to him since they had left the restaurant. In spite of his vow that he would do everything he could to try and restore some harmony between them, he could barely hold back the rising tide of anger and resentment that was building inside him.
He would much rather deal with her temper than this cold, statue-like remoteness she was displaying towards him now. In her simple but elegant black dress, her pale moon-kissed limbs and light honey-blond hair made her look like a princess from a fairy tale who had been frozen in ice until the handsome prince came along and magically melted it away. In his heart Reece couldn’t help wondering if he would be able to work any kind of magic at all on his lovely young wife to help restore her affections towards him.
‘No, thanks. I think I’ll just go straight to bed.’
‘Alone?’
His green eyes alighting with a speculative glitter upon her startled face, Reece struggled with his growing irritation at her deliberate withdrawal of contact.
‘I’m not ready to—I mean for us to share a bedroom just yet. Please understand.’
There was genuine pain in her soft, bewitching voice, and for a moment Reece’s anger relented, even though her reluctance to have him back in her bed cut him to the quick.
‘Go on. Go to bed, Sorrel. I’ll see you in the morning.’
Turning back to the drinks cabinet, Reece poured himself a generous measure of the Scotch he’d been craving at dinner and took a slug. As the familiar burn slid down into his stomach, he realised he had never felt so low…not even when Sorrel had walked out on him. It was damn hard to go through the motions of living when every little bit of spark inside him had been inexorably extinguished by the slow but deadening deterioration of his relationship with his wife.
‘Was that Angelina Cortez I saw you talking to in the restaurant tonight?’ Sorrel asked him from behind.
Nursing his glass of Scotch, Reece processed the question with a spurt of surprise and did an about-turn. His expression was instantly wary.
‘You saw us? Why didn’t you come and say hello?’ With a flush of guilt, Sorrel glanced quickly away from the censure in his compelling eyes.
‘The two of you seemed quite happy together without me joining in,’ she replied, forcing her tone to sound deliberately airy. ‘Is she going to be touring again soon?’
Knowing he shouldn’t be so stunned by her astuteness, Reece imbibed another generous gulp of whisky before replying. ‘Maybe. Why do you want to know?’ Hugging the warm cashmere wrap more tightly across her chest, Sorrel could not hide her sharp disappointment and fear. ‘Obviously I’ll need to know if you’re going to be away for months on end again…especially now that the baby’s coming.’
‘Of course, I’ll be taking that into account.’
He didn’t want to go into detail right now. Instinctively he knew that if he did Sorrel would only read any explanation he might offer in the wrong way. Her hostility was as inevitable as the tides, it seemed.
‘She’s a widow, isn’t she? She must like having you dance attention on her hand and foot when you’re away together.’
Even though common sense loudly dictated that she didn’t push this any further than she ought, her sorrow at losing her husband’s affection made Sorrel dice with death. Her heart started to throb deeply as she waited for his inevitable cutting comment.
With a look of harsh dismay, Reece curled his mouth disparagingly at the corner. ‘I don’t “dance attention” on her, for God’s sake! I promote the woman’s concerts—that’s all…period! If you acted more like a real wife and travelled with me when I work you’d see the truth for yourself!’
His acid statement burning her inside, Sorrel blindly reached for the catch on the door and fled out into the corridor.
CHAPTER FOUR
IN HER dream Reece and Angelina Cortez were laughing at her—holding hands and mocking her misery as she anguished and wept and felt as if she was being flayed alive by a whip studded with red-hot nails.
‘You don’t know how to be a real wife!’ Reece taunted her, his mouth twisted and his eyes hard as flint.
‘Yes, I do!’ Sorrel cried, over and over, the pain jack-knifing through her middle as though her very flesh was being sliced open. ‘Please give me another chance, Reece! I promise I’ll try and be the wife you want!’
Her deep sorrow—along with a very real excruciating pain low down in her stomach—woke her up. Her brow was slippery with perspiration and her short cotton nightgown was uncomfortably damp. As she forced herself to sit up, acute waves of debilitating pain almost made her head fall back onto the pillow again. So intensely sharp were they that it was all she could do to gulp down enough air to breathe.
Her distress increased dram
atically when she threw back the sheet and satin counterpane and saw to her avid horror that her white nightgown was stained not with perspiration but with blood. Immediately Sorrel started to shake, her hands clutching her stomach, and she was keening, ‘Oh, God, oh, God…’ as she realised with stark cold terror that she must be losing the baby.
Knowing that if he was deep in the middle of sleep—in his room several yards down the hall from hers— Reece was not likely to hear her shouts of distress, Sorrel had no choice but to force herself to her feet and try and get to the door. With her nightgown pressed tight between her legs, terrified by the stream of blood that seemed to be gushing down her pale, slender thighs as though it would never stop, she managed to hobble to the door and wrench it open.
‘Reece!’ she cried out in rising hysteria as she held onto the door with one hand and her nightgown with the other, her fear escalating almost out of control as she struggled to deal with the horror of it all. ‘Oh, God… Reece—help me, please!’
He had been dreaming too…dark, disturbing, haunting dreams that made him break out in an icy cold sweat. When Sorrel’s sudden shout of distress pierced his subconscious, Reece moved like lightning up into a sitting position, his heart thudding so acutely that it immediately alerted him to danger.
Orientating himself, he frantically wondered if he had imagined the whole thing or whether it had just been part of the general nightmare he’d been disturbed by. When he heard Sorrel’s voice for real—genuine distress turning into a frightened, almost childlike sob—he threw his legs out of the bed, flung out through the door dressed only in a pair of blue cotton pyjama bottoms, and came face to face with the kind of horrific scene he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.
All he could see at first was the blood. There was so much of it, and his rapidly wakening brain tried to make sense of the dreadful sight with its usually insistent logic—telling him that she must have tripped and fallen somehow, and badly cut herself. At that precise moment Reece couldn’t allow himself to believe that the shocking scarlet stains defiling his wife’s virginal white nightgown were anything to do with the baby. Their baby. The child that Reece had fathered. His son or daughter. Please God, no…