Sweet Promise

by Ginna Gray

  Joanna understood. She was learning just how painful memories could be.

  She poured the boiling water into the mug, and the scent of chocolate rose with the curling wisps of steam. Cradling the mug in her hands, Joanna turned and was heading for the door when her gaze fell on the wall phone. She stopped and stared at it uncertainly. On arriving home two days ago she had unplugged it. She had needed the time and the solitude—craved it still—but Joanna knew she couldn't go on hiding forever. Her mother and Matt were expecting her back from the cruise today.

  With a resigned sigh, Joanna walked to the phone and plugged it in. Before she could take a step away it rang, and she jumped, causing her cocoa to slosh over the side of the mug and splatter onto the tile floor.

  Aggravated, Joanna snatched the receiver and snapped, "Hello."

  "Joanna? Oh, thank God, you're home," Claire said with heartfelt relief. "Where in the world have you been? I've been calling for three days."

  "You have? But why? I wasn't due back until today."

  "Sean called us the night you left the ship," Claire said, and Joanna's heart jerked. "He's called every day since, and he's absolutely furious, Joanna."

  Joanna was too stunned to reply. She hadn't expected that. She had thought, if he even noticed that she was gone, that he would be relieved.

  "We assume that you two have had an argument," Claire said in a concerned voice, breaking into the taut silence.

  "Yes, I guess you could say that." With a calm she was far from feeling, Joanna gave her mother an extremely watered-down version of what had happened.

  When she had finished Claire murmured, "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry. But I can't say I'm surprised that Sean is angry. I was afraid something like this would happen. He's easygoing, but he's not a man who can be pushed or manipulated. And, though he doesn't lose his temper often, when he does it's explosive. What does surprise me, though, is that you let yourself get involved with him. I mean, darling, I like Sean very much. You know that. But...well...where women are concerned, he's not known for his constancy."

  Joanna blinked back tears and forced out a blase laugh. "Oh, well, you know how it is, Mother. You tend to get carried away with all that sun and surf and romantic, moonlit nights at sea. It was just a shipboard fling. No harm done." Joanna's heart felt as though it had split in two at the words, but they were necessary. The last thing she wanted was to cause Claire worry. Especially not now, with the baby due in just a few weeks.

  "Well, maybe so. But as angry as he is, I doubt that Sean is going to pass it off that easily. If I were you I'd brace myself. I'm fairly certain he intends to pay you a visit."

  Joanna fervently hoped that her mother was wrong, but a short while later, just scant seconds after she had hung up the phone, her doorbell sounded. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she went to answer it. Before she reached the entryway the bell sounded twice more, and then a hammering fist took up the summons. Drawing a deep breath, Joanna squared her shoulders and opened the door.

  "It's about time."

  Sean stormed past her like an enraged bull and stalked into the living room. Shakily, Joanna closed the door and followed him. He was standing in the middle of the room, radiating anger, his back to her, but when Joanna entered he whirled around.

  "I should have expected an irresponsible stunt like this from you," he snarled through clenched teeth. "You connive and finagle to get what you want without a thought for anyone else, and then when things turn unpleasant, you turn tail and run like the spoiled, selfish brat you are."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Sorry! Sorry doesn't cut it, Joanna. What you did was inconsiderate at best. If I hadn't run into your room steward I would have thought the worst."

  "Wh-what do you mean?"

  "I mean, you just disappeared without a word after we'd had a serious argument. For all I knew you could have fallen overboard or been kidnapped or been seriously ill. And didn't it occur to you that your mother would be worried."

  "If you hadn't called—"

  "Was I just supposed to ignore the fact that you had disappeared in a foreign country without a word? The steward said you'd rushed off the ship because of an urgent family crisis. The first thing that came to my mind was that Claire had run into trouble with her pregnancy. So I called."

  "I see," Joanna said weakly.

  Sean gave her a disgusted look and turned away, then just as quickly turned right back, his eyes narrowed. "And while we're on the subject, just where the hell have you been since you walked off that ship in Cozumel? Claire has called a hundred times. She's been going out of her mind with worry."

  "I... I've been here. I unplugged my phone."

  The stream of expletives that shot from him were sharp and searing. Joanna flinched with each one.

  He was angrier than she had ever seen him, and as she watched him pace back and forth across the oriental rug, Joanna felt wretched. She couldn't even work up any anger, because she knew that Sean was right. Once again she had thought only of herself and acted impulsively. Despite all her good intentions and the earnest attempt she'd made to change, the habits and conditioning of a lifetime were difficult to shake.

  Joanna listened to Sean's scorching comments with the calm of utter hopelessness, and when he was through, said quietly, "You're right, Sean. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry or upset anyone. I know that's inadequate, but it's the best I can offer."

  Her calm agreement stopped Sean in his tracks, and he looked at her with a mixture of confusion and caution. Where was her anger? He'd come spoiling for a fight and had expected her to rage right back at him. After the frustration of the past three days he had relished the prospect of clearing the air. And now this.

  He frowned as he watched her edge toward the door, leaving him with no option but to follow.

  "I.. .I'm sorry things didn't work out between us, Sean, but I do thank you for your concern. I hope, despite everything, that you will run for the Senate." With her head held high, Joanna gave him a wobbly smile and opened the door, keeping one hand on the knob. "Goodbye, Sean."

  Sean hesitated and looked at her closely, then nodded. "Goodbye, Joanna."

  It was over. He told himself it was for the best. That he'd had a narrow escape. Joanna Andrews was all that he'd accused her of being: shallow, selfish, thoughtless. She was incapable of loving anyone.

  Yet, as Sean walked past her and stepped out into the frigid afternoon all he felt was a terrible, consuming sense of loss.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Snow lay over the Virginia hillsides like a heavy layer of whipped cream, blown by a capricious wind into smooth, swirling patterns in some places, mounded into high drifts in others. Skeletal trees stood in sharp relief against the leaden sky, their branches piled high with snow and drooping forlornly beneath its weight. It was utterly quiet, except for the occasional loud crack of a limb breaking and the mournful soughing of the wind around the eaves of the farmhouse.

  Over and over, Joanna's eyes strayed to the wintry scene while her fingers automatically carried out the task of breaking pecan halves into small pieces and dropping them into the measuring cup. It could be a painting, she thought as she gazed out the frosted panes of the kitchen window. The still, stark, haunting loveliness of it appealed to her somehow. In her present mood, blue skies and bright sunshine would be offensive.

  "It looks like we're in for another snow before morning," Claire commented as she deftly fluted the edge on a fresh made pie crust.

  "Mmm."

  "On a day like this I'm always glad to stay inside where it's cozy and warm." Letting her gaze roam over the homey kitchen, Claire's soft gray eyes glowed with contentment as they took in brick patterned floors, pecan cabinets, massive beams and hanging copper pots, their polished surfaces reflecting the cheery fire crackling in the,massive hearth. The large room was redolent with the tantalizing aromas of burning wood, spices, fresh-baked pies and warm, yeasty bread. "And it's a great time for baking."<
br />
  Joanna gave her mother a faint smile-r "Is that why we're having this marathon bake off? Because the weather is gloomy?"

  "Well... kind of. Besides, with the Drummond clan coming for Christmas it's best to stock up on goodies."

  But the real reason is you're trying to keep my mind occupied, and off Sean, Joanna thought fondly, her gaze sliding once more to the dismal beauty beyond the windows.

  It wasn't working. She'd been home over three weeks, and during that time she'd thought of little else. And after last night, she was hurting worse than ever.

  Oh, God, if only she hadn't let herself be talked into going to that embassy party. She hadn't wanted to, but her mother and Matt had been insistent, and because she had known they were worried about her, she had given in.

  Bitter, silent amusement rippled through Joanna when she recalled the pep talk she'd given herself as they had entered the embassy. It's time to pick up your life again, she'd lectured. You can't pine away forever. And anyway, Washington is a big town. Just because you're going to a party doesn't mean you'll run into Sean.

  Brave words. And totally inaccurate. She had practically bumped into him the moment they entered the ballroom.

  He had been standing just a few feet inside the door, and at the sight of him she had come to an abrupt halt, her heart crashing against her ribs. Even now, Joanna could remember, with painful clarity, every tension fraught moment of that disastrous encounter.

  "Sean."

  She hadn't even known she had spoken, but as his name whispered past her lips he had looked up, straight into her eyes. For a small eternity they simply stared at each other. Then, at last, he said quietly, "Hello, Joanna."

  "Hello," she managed to choke out. Her heart was booming in her chest like a kettledrum, and for a panicked second she feared she would pass out.

  Sean's gaze switched to Claire and Matt, who were standing on either side of Joanna, alert and wary as they watched the tense tabloid unfold. He nodded, and his mouth moved in a semblance of a smile. "Claire. Matt. Good to see you."

  They returned the greeting, but Sean's gaze had already slid back to Joanna.

  "How are you?"

  "Fine. And you?"

  "I'm doing okay."

  "I... uh... want to wish you luck with your campaign. I read in the newspaper that you're making a bid for the nomination."

  "Thanks."

  "I... I was afraid you'd change your mind."

  "I thought about it," Sean admitted, his eyes hardening a fraction. "But I decided it would be stupid not to, since it's what I want."

  All through the banal conversation Joanna drank in the sight of him like someone dying of thirst who has just discovered a clear bubbling spring. She was so enthralled, it was several minutes before she even saw the blonde by his side, and still another before she realized that the woman's arm was linked with Sean's.

  Seeming to become aware of the woman at the same time, Sean glanced down at her and looked back at Joanna sharply. "I'm sorry. I don't believe you've met Natalie Stone. Natalie, this is Joanna Andrews, and Claire and Matt Drummond."

  "It's so nice to meet you. When Sean invited me to this party he said I'd probably meet some famous people but I certainly never expected to meet Claire Andrews," the woman gushed, eyeing Claire's protruding abdomen with avid interest.

  "My name is Drummond now," Claire corrected with gentle firmness before glancing worriedly at Joanna's white face.

  Helplessly, Joanna's stricken gaze went back and forth between Sean's face and the slender white arm resting on the dark sleeve of his tuxedo. In that moment, she thought she would surely die from the crushing pain that pressed in on her.

  * * *

  Joanna picked up another pecan and snapped it in two. During the past three weeks she had wondered if he was seeing other women. The uncertainty had been horrible, but knowing, she discovered, was worse. So much worse.

  She wasn't sure how she had gotten through the rest of the evening. Now it was all a hazy blur of pain. She had thought that she'd concealed her feelings well though, until her mother had shown up on her doorstep bright and early that morning.

  Joanna's gaze warmed when it lit on her mother. Over the past few years she had come to realize how lucky she was to have a mother like Claire, but never more than this morning. She hadn't pried or rendered judgment or offered advice, but had simply taken Joanna's hands in hers, and said, "You love him, don't you, darling?" And when Joanna had nodded and burst into tears, she had held her close until the storm had passed.

  Then she had asked Joanna to move to the farm until after the baby arrived. "It will be good for you, and you can keep me company. And now that you've quit your job, there's no reason why you can't."

  Joanna had tried to refuse, but where her loved ones were concerned, Claire wasn't above using a little emotional blackmail. "Please, darling. You'll be doing me a tremendous favor. With my due date so near Matt is absolutely terrified to leave me alone at the farm during the day. If you don't come I'm sure he'll end up hiring a nurse to stay with me."

  Put that way, Joanna had really had little choice, but, she didn't mind. There was some comfort in being with people who loved you.

  A smile curved Joanna's mouth as she followed her mother's waddling progress around the kitchen. She wore plum-colored maternity slacks and a plum-and-lilac top that looked wonderful with her gray eyes. Short curls framed her face beguilingly and gleamed like spun gold in the warm light of the kitchen. Flour covered her hands and arms up to her elbows, and there was a smudge of it on her cheek, yet Joanna had never seen her look more appealing. Claire had always been beautiful, but now there was a Madonna-like quality to her loveliness that took your breath away. It was no wonder that Sean had almost lost his heart to her four years ago, Joanna mused with love and pride, and just a touch of envy.

  As she watched her mother, Joanna wondered wistfully if she would ever attain that kind of serenity, the kind that comes with loving and being loved in return.

  * * *

  Sean's fingers drummed an impatient tattoo on the table. He darted another look across the dimly lit bar to the entrance and shifted restlessly. Where the devil is Matt? A glance at his watch told him that Matt wasn't even due for another ten minutes, but knowing that did nothing to curb his restiveness.

  Cupping his hand around the back of his neck, Sean squeezed the knotted muscles and rolled his head from side to side. God, he was tired. Between strategy sessions, hiring a staff, setting up a headquarters and scaring up backers, he'd been run ragged these past few weeks. It had been years since he'd actively worked on a campaign; he had forgotten just how hectic it could be.

  But not so hectic that you don't think of Joanna a hundred times a day, he thought with both resentment and longing. Sean glanced at the door again and took a sip of bourbon. Hell, face it, man. Nothing is going to wipe her out of your mind... or your heart. Even if she is too young, even though she's reckless and willful and spoiled—you love her. Which is why you're here, and why you asked Matt to meet you for a drink.

  Had he been mistaken? No. No, he was almost certain that had been pain he'd seen in Joanna's eyes last night when she'd realized he was there with Natalie.

  The memory of that wounded look brought a grimace to Sean's face. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Joanna. Why the devil had he even asked Natalie to go with him to that party? He hadn't wanted to. But like a pigheaded idiot, he'd been determined to prove to himself that he didn't need Joanna, that he could still enjoy the company of other women. What a laugh.

  Still, his date with Natalie may not have been a total washout. If that was pain he'd seen in Joanna's eyes, then that meant she did care. Didn't it? And if she cared, that changed everything.

  What Joanna had done was pushy and presumptuous, but he could overlook that, as long as he could know for sure that she had gone to bed with him out of love, and not for what she could get from him.

  While Sean was lost in his anxio
us thoughts Matt sat down in the chair opposite him.

  "How's it going, buddy?"

  "Matt! Hey, glad you could make it," Sean responded just a shade too jovially. "What'll you have, your usual?"

  "No, nothing for me, thanks," Matt said when Sean started to signal for the waiter. "I can't stay long. I want to get home to Claire. And anyway, it looks like we're in for more snow. I need to head out before the roads get too bad." Leaning back in his chair, Matt eyed Sean speculatively. "So, how's the campaign coming along?"

  "So far, great. Jerry Calder's managing it for me. Of course, he was my second choice." A lopsided grin crooked one side of Sean's mouth as his eyes met Matt's. "But I knew better than to ask you. I figured once that baby gets here you're going to want to stay close to home."

  "You figured right."

  Sean's expression grew serious, and he looked down at the squat glass he was absently rotating. "And then there's this..."

  "This thing between you and Joanna," Matt finished for him when he hesitated.

  Sean's head jerked up, and he found himself pinned by his friend's keen blue gaze. "Yeah, there's that," he admitted grimly. Sean tossed back the last of his bourbon and set the glass down. Black eyes met blue ones in a long, searching look. "How is Joanna?"

  Matt's impassive expression did not so much as flicker, and at that moment Sean recalled why he never played poker with the man. He stared back at Sean for what seemed like minutes. "Do you really want to know, or is that a polite question?"

  "I want to know."

  "All right then... she's miserable."

  The quick flare of hope Sean could not hide brought a hint of a smile to Matt's mouth. "Look, I don't know what happened between you two on that cruise. I don't think I even want to know, but it's about time you patched this thing up. Because to tell you the truth, old friend, you don't look too hot, either."