Mark stood with his back to her, pulling tiny pieces of meat off a chicken breast for Marcia.
“I was hoping you could give me some advice on how to handle it.” Her fingers stilled and her eyes fell shut for a moment. “I realize this isn’t your area of expertise. I just thought you might want to...” She trailed off, the crease in her brow growing deeper.
Finished with the chicken, Mark tried to pretend he wasn’t paying attention, but the look on her face made his heart rise and settle in his throat. What was that man saying to her?
“And Desmond decided this? So just like that,” she said, waving her arm in the air. “It’s settled.”
Mark froze, the bowl of chicken in his hand. What was settled? Who was Desmond?
“I see. Yes, of course you would want me to be expeditious. I remember how important the dinner is.” The fist not holding the phone began opening and closing, fingers splayed far apart before clenching shut. Her lips pressed tightly into a thin line as she listened.
“No, we wouldn’t want to vary from Desmond’s plan.” Her fist closed and stayed closed.
Marcia kicked her feet and gurgled something only another baby would have understood then reached out to her Uncle Mark.
“Sorry, buttercup.” He set the bowl on the tray and took one step toward Anna before he thought better of it and turned to the cabinets.
“I’m afraid dinner is ready, Harrison. I’ll have to call you back.” Turning around, she crashed against Mark, making the stack of dishes he carried wobble in his hands. “Sorry,” she whispered to him, scooping the dishes out of his arms.
Setting the plates down on the table, Anna put one at each place. “I really have to go now,” she repeated into the phone. “Dinner will get cold. I’ll call you back after we eat.”
She’d paused a moment listening. It seemed to Mark she was doing a lot more listening than talking.
“Okay. I won’t bother you again tonight. I’ll wait till morning. Goodnight, Harrison.” Without so much as an I miss you or an I love you, she closed the phone disconnecting the call.
Until this moment he hadn’t really thought about it, but it suddenly hit Mark that in any conversation he’d overheard between Anna and what’s his name, she’d never used any terms of endearment. Hell, half the time they didn’t even bother to say goodbye.
“Doesn’t sound like he had anything helpful to say.” Kat stood, leaning against the doorway. Mark had completely forgotten she was in the room.
“Oh, he was helpful all right.” The way Anna’s hands remained tightly fisted at her sides worried Mark.
Kat eased away from the wall. “Then he did have some ideas on how to handle Junior?”
“No, but he had plenty to say about Marcia.”
A low groan escaped from somewhere deep inside Mark. “Sorry, I guess I’m growing tired of hearing how he wants you to leave her behind.”
“You won’t have to worry about that anymore.” Anna’s gaze shifted to the baby happily gumming small bits of chicken. “Apparently Harrison’s campaign manager, Desmond Dewitt, has convinced Harrison, assuming we’re married of course, that adopting a poor orphaned infant who tragically lost her parents in a horrific accident at the hands of a drunk driver would shoot him straight to the top of the polls. He wants us both back in New York. Yesterday.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The screen door slammed shut behind Anna.
“Air my foot.” Kat wanted to scream. Anna needed a hell of a lot more than just some fresh air. For the last five years, inch by inch, Kat had watched her feisty friend slowly morph into a sedate dishrag. Well, maybe that was a bit strong. Even when playing the role of dishrag, Anna wasn’t exactly sedate. But the Anna who danced in fountains and took Fifth Avenue by storm would have told Harrison to go to hell without a moment’s hesitation.
“I wonder sometimes if all those antacids she pops don’t have more to do with Harrison than her job.”
“Does she have an ulcer?” Mark asked, his gaze still focused down the hall and on the back door Anna had just marched out of.
“She won’t say, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” Kat thought back to the early days at Nobel’s. No matter how frenzied or frantic things got, Anna didn’t carry those blasted Tums in every purse and pocket. “It’s Harrison. When she’s with him I feel like I’ve left reality and landed in Stepford. Besides calling Junior a son of a bitch, I haven’t heard her say one damn thing Harrison would call improper. She says, does and thinks whatever she believes Harrison expects of her. She keeps everything all bottled up now. It’s not healthy for her.”
Mark leaned against the doorway, arms folded casually across his broad chest, ankles crossed. He was giving her the floor. Damn, that man was sexy. Too bad he only had eyes for Anna.
Kat turned, taking four or five short steps before spinning around and making her way back toward the window. “She was always the lively one of us. Like she was afraid she’d miss out on something important. I’ll never forget the time she jumped into the fountain at the Embarcadero Center and started dancing. We hadn’t been friends long, so I didn’t know her that well yet, but she seemed to be having such a good time. You know what I mean, really having fun. The next thing I knew all four of us were stomping through the fountain like little kids, laughing till we cried. She doesn’t laugh much anymore.”
Kat glanced outside at the still backdrop. So green. So peaceful. “All the gusto seems to have been sucked dry from her life. She needs to find the passion again.”
Mark stepped over to the bar and poured himself a glass of water. “Doesn’t seem like her job leaves her enough time to find much of anything.”
“It’s more than that. I’m telling you it’s all Harrison’s fault. She needs to get away from him and those highbrow parties, and experience life again. Let all that pent up Italian passion out.” Kat turned to look at Mark, watched him drop one ice cube, then another into the glass. Someone had to do something to smack some sense into that woman and if she wasn’t getting anywhere, maybe it was time someone else tried. “What that woman really needs is a good lay.”
Glass still raised to his lips Mark spewed water across the room. Coughing, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.
“Are you okay?” She rushed to his side, slapping his back. “Your face is almost purple.” Maybe she’d gone too far. The guy really did fluster easily. He’d have had to be a blind fool not to realize what she was implying, and from the way he was nearly choking, Mark was no fool. Blind or otherwise.
“Sorry.” He winced. “Went down the wrong pipe.”
“You should be more careful.”
“Mm.” He barely managed to nod. With a lung full of water he could barely breathe, and yet, visions of Anna’s long legs that seemed to stretch forever and the graceful sway of her hips that warmed a man’s blood, ran freely through his mind. The absolute last thing he needed was the picture Kat had just painted of those long legs wrapped around his hips. Definitely not.
She belonged to another man. He’d known that from the start. Never before had there been a problem squelching inappropriate feelings of attraction for someone else’s woman. But what was so different about Anna? Why was it every time he looked at her he felt as though she’d been made especially for him and no one else?
“Maybe I should call a doctor or something?” Like a slap across the face, Kat’s question snapped him back to the moment.
“No, really. I’m fine.” Nothing a river of ice water won’t cure.
Kat’s brow crinkled with concern. Whether it was for him, or for Anna, he wasn’t sure.
“Maybe one of us should go talk to her?” Mark hoped that Kat would go and leave him be.
“Good idea. You go on. I’ll pour myself a little wine and see what’s on TV. If I hear Marcia stir, I’ll come get you.” In complete contrast to the whirling dervish who had just sent him into respiratory arrest, she pivoted on her heel and calmly strode toward the bar.
How did he wind up in exactly the position he didn’t want to be in? Sent off alone to deal with a woman who was dangerously under his skin.
When did the world stop spinning on its axis? Or was it simply spinning backwards? Or maybe the world was perfectly in tune, and Anna had simply lost her mind.
The success she’d always wanted was finally within reach, and now she was being offered the icing on the cake. The title of Mrs. Harrison Edwards III. So why did she feel like she’d swallowed a glass of sour milk? Now she could take Marcia back to New York and raise her the way Babs wanted. Right? Then why did it all seem so wrong?
She should be jumping for joy. Back in New York she’d be able to confront Junior and salvage her reputation. Even go to Italy. If she played all her cards right the VP job would be hers. And her mom would be thrilled to have another grandbaby to dote on.
But the problem wasn’t a lack of babysitters and she knew it. “Harrison is a good man,” she whispered into the night air. So his new friends are a little stuffy and maybe she didn’t care much for campaign fundraisers now that she was expected to do the hand shaking and baby kissing. What mattered was she’d gotten out of the kitchen, and marrying Harrison would guarantee she stayed out. The campaigning wouldn’t last forever. She and Harrison made a good team. Maybe he was a bit preoccupied now, not as demonstrative as he used to be, but he really cared for her. At least, she always thought he did.
So what if he didn’t drop everything and rush to her side. Harrison had specific goals and followed his plan for success- to the letter. He wasn’t the drop everything sort of guy. That was more Mark’s style. Mark. Anna looked up at the few twinkling stars. “You may be right, Babs. God definitely broke the mold.”
A rabbit running in the garden dragged her attention back to earth. “Harrison’s a busy man, an important man,” she told the bunny who had disappeared under the brush. She could understand busy. It was somewhat of an unspoken rule. Harrison wouldn’t complain about her long days at work, and she didn’t fuss about his frequent business trips. But it hurt that he seemed so indifferent now to her plight. He didn’t have to be here physically, but surely he could have at least offered a little emotional support? “Couldn’t he?”
“Couldn’t he who?” Mark closed the patio door behind him.
“Did you know there are bunnies in the backyard?”
“Sometimes they get caught in your headlights at night when you pull into the driveway. Couldn’t who?”
She tilted her head to look up at him and smiled. “Not going to let me get away from it are ya?”
Shrugging one shoulder, he shook his head. “Kat thinks you need to vent a little. I guess I’ve been sent out to open the valve.”
“I’m not a faucet.” She turned in search of the bunny. She didn’t want to talk about Harrison, especially not with Mark.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you were. But she’s worried about you.” His mouth moved as if about to say something else, and then his lips pressed tightly together, as though struggling to remain silent.
When was the last time Harrison had apologized to her? She thought quickly back. A rather startling revelation. She couldn’t think of a single time when she hadn’t been the one to apologize. How did that happen? When did she become such a wimp? “Apology accepted.”
“You want to talk about it?” Mark rested his arms on the railing beside her.
“Not really. I was just thinking aloud.” She laced her fingers together, twirling her thumbs.
“Sometimes that’s the only way to have an intelligent conversation.”
Swallowing a chuckle, she shook her head. “I guess there’s a reason old cliches stick around so long.”
“Definitely. It’s right up there with an ounce of prevention and a stitch in time.”
His grin was infectious. She felt the warmth of his smile enfold her like a warm blanket. At the same time an unexpected chill raced up her spine. When was the last time a mere glance from Harrison left her feeling anything?
“I found a note from Babs today.” She turned to look at the stars. “Well, not really a note. A list. She’d written talk to Anna when she has time. Why would she think I wouldn’t make time for her? I always had time for Babs. I thought she knew that.”
“I’m sure she knew. Maybe she simply wanted the right time.”
“You think?”
“Could be. What else was on the list?”
“Mostly ordinary stuff. New curtains, carseat. She wanted to make an appointment with Sid and talk to me.”
“I see.” He turned his attention to something far off in the dark distance. His jaw set so tightly she could almost hear his teeth grinding.
“Do you really think she would have named me, not you, guardian?” she asked.
He hesitated a long moment before pulling his attention in her direction. “We never discussed it, but I know how important it was for her to be the best mother in the world. The reason she had so much stuff for Marcia at the office was because she wouldn’t leave Marcia with Luisa for more than a little while. She often said, ‘Little girls need their mommies.’ She’d want Marcia to have a mother. A mother she trusted. So, yeah, I think she’d have named you not me.”
“Babs knows me, knew me, better than anyone. If she wanted Marcia to have the best mother in the world, trust me when I say, I’m not her.”
“So what is it you’re sulking about? That you think you’re a bad friend because Barb knew you were a busy woman, or that you think you’ll be a bad mother?”
“I’m not sulking. I have a lot to think about.”
“Like what?” His hand reached across the few inches between them and covered hers. “I’m a good listener.”
With slow lazy swirls, his thumb moved back and forth sending tingling sensations to all her nerve endings. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find every hair on her body standing on end.
What was happening to her? She should be upstairs packing as many of Marcia’s things as she could bring home, running visions of bridesmaids and floral arrangements in her head. Instead, she was wondering what other sensations this man’s long fingers could wring from her overworked body. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
“You take it one step at a time and everything will be fine.”
Mark made everything sound so easy. In his eyes she could do anything, even the impossible. If only it were Harrison reassuring her that everything would be fine. But Harrison’s only concern was winning a bid for state office. Whether or not it was best for her or Marcia didn’t seem to matter to him. That painful truth stabbed her in the heart and tears stung at the back of her eyes. She couldn’t cry. Not now.
But she couldn’t stop the flow of tears anymore than she could stop her heart from beating. It hurt. It hurt more than she’d ever thought it would. She was on her own.
The sudden gush of tears took Mark by surprise. When Anna collapsed against him, soft and warm and just the right size, panic set in as his body instantly reacted.
Forcing himself to relax, he let his arms fold gently around her and tried to think of something extremely unpleasant. Anything that would take his mind, and body, off how perfectly she fit against him. Swimming in the ocean at Santa Cruz in January, his sister Rachel’s Christmas fruitcake, his annual physical.
No help. Counting sheep, black sheep, backwards. One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered through ragged breaths, her tears soaking his shirt. “I don’t usually lose control like this.”
“These aren’t usual circumstances.” Ninety-seven, ninety six. His fingers trailed up her back and drew slow calming swirls at the base of her neck. The feel of bare skin at his fingertips only made the discomfort in his jeans more pronounced, but as long as she didn’t seem to notice, he didn’t want to stop. Ninety-five, ninety-four.
Splaying her fingers across his chest, she pushed back a few inches. He nearly blew out a relieved breath. Still
held loosely in his arms, she was too close for comfort, but not so close that he risked embarrassing himself.
“I started thinking.” She sniffled. “Do you know Harrison never actually asked me to marry him?”
Harrison. A single name capable of deflating anyone’s libido. “Not exactly.”
Lifting one hand, she swiped the moisture from her cheeks. “Is it wrong to want the pretty words and traditional gestures?”
“No. I don’t think it’s wrong.” He should drop his hands, loosen his hold, let her step away. She belonged to that asshole.
“Have you ever thought you really wanted something only to find out things weren’t what you thought they were?” Fresh tears glistened in her eyes, as she blinked in a useless effort to keep them at bay.
One quick stroke. That’s all it would take. With one short movement he could raise his hand, wipe away the newest tear and then... then what? Wind his arm around her again? Let her go? Brother, was he treading dangerous waters. “There’s a reason for the expression, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. We’ve all wanted something on the other side of that fence at some point or other.”
“I really thought. I mean, it seemed so ... Oh God, I can’t think straight.”
“You’ve just lost your best friend. Your entire world is being turned upside down. No one expects you to do much thinking.” He could be the voice of reason. So what if his pants felt two sizes too small and every thought that crossed his mind had very little to do with reason and everything to do with wanting to slowly devour every inch of her until she knew what it really meant not to be able to think straight.
“What am I supposed to do?” Fisting his shirt in her hands, she dropped her head and cried into his shoulder.
What was it about a woman’s tears that hurt a man more than having a tooth pulled without novocaine? While one hand stroked her hair, the other tightened his hold on her. When she suddenly stiffened against him, and her sobs slowed to a ragged whimper, he knew he’d pulled her closer than he’d meant to.
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