„Good,“ he said softly. „I’d stop if it felt bad.“
Her eyes flew open and she stared up at him. „How do you do that? How do you make me say what I’m thinking out loud?“
„I think you say it out loud because in your heart you want me to hear it.“ The brush paused and he sobered. „What’s wrong, Kristen? You’ve been so quiet tonight“
Now, Kristen. Don’t be a coward now. She stood up, slipping around him to shrug into her robe. „I need to talk to you. I need you to listen, because it’s hard to say.“
His brow creased in a frown, he set the brush on the vanity and went back to sit on the bed. „I’m listening.“
She opened the vanity drawer and found the little album. Holding it to her chest, she turned and looked into his very worried blue eyes. „I know about your baby.“
He visibly blanched. „How?“
„Aidan let it slip. He didn’t know I didn’t know. Then your father showed me a picture of Debra right before… You know.“
His nod was jerky, his skin pale beneath the dark stubble on his cheeks. „I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you, Kristen. I just don’t talk about it.“
„I know.“ She sat on the bed facing him. „I understand.“ She swallowed, then put the album on the bed next to his hip and shot to her feet. He picked it up, looked at the first photo, an infant with tiny red curls and big green eyes. Instant recognition dawned.
„She’s yours,“ he said dully. She said nothing and he flipped to the next photo and the next until he came to the end. „Eleven pictures.“
Kristen’s body was trembling and she couldn’t make it stop. „One at birth and one for every birthday thereafter.“
„She’s pretty.“
„Thank you.“
He looked up, his eyes unreadable. „What’s her name?“
She hugged herself, hoping to control her shaking. „They named her Savannah.“
He nodded, still looking at her. „Where is she?“
„California.“
„So far away.“
„Her parents moved from Chicago when she was four.“
He looked back down at the album and traced ten-year-old Savannah’s smile with the tip of his forefinger. „What did you think I’d say, Kristen?“
She bit her lip. „I don’t know.“
„Did you think I would blame you?“
Hunching her shoulders, she dropped her gaze. „I didn’t know. I blame myself.“
„That I can believe.“ The warmth in his voice made her look up. He opened his arms and she crawled across the bed and into them. „Kristen, honey.“
The tears came then and he pulled her onto his lap. „Oh, Abe, I didn’t know what you’d say. You lost your baby and I gave mine away.“
„No, you didn’t. You gave your baby a chance to have a normal life.“ His hand was on her hair, stroking. Holding her until her tears slowed and his shirt was soaked. „I take it you got pregnant after…“ He kissed the top of her head. „After.“
„I hadn’t planned to tell anyone. Then I missed one period, then two, and I didn’t know what to do. So I told my parents.“
His hold on her tightened. „And they didn’t believe you.“
„An unmarried pregnant daughter was worse than a drunken dead one.“
There was a long, long pause. „I hate your father, Kristen.“
She rested her cheek against the rock hardness of his chest. „So do I.“
Another long pause. „Do you see her? Savannah?“
Kristen’s heart squeezed. „No. We agreed they’d send me a picture every year on her birthday, and if she ever asked about me, they’d tell her that I was young and alone and couldn’t care for a baby.“
„Which is all true.“
„Yes. When she’s eighteen they’ll let her choose whether she wants to meet me.“
„They’re good people, then.“
Her eyes burned. „Yes. And they love her so much.“
„Then you did the right thing,“ he murmured. Carefully he put the album in her nightstand drawer. Then tilted up her chin and claimed her lips in the sweetest, gentlest kiss. Her heart swelled in her chest and when he lifted his head she could only look at him as the words raced through her head.
That’s not all I need to tell you. There’s something wrong with me.
Please don’t mind. Please don’t let it matter.
I love you.
His eyes flashed, brilliant blue. „Say it again. I want to know you mean me to hear it.“
To deny him was never an option. „I love you,“ she whispered.
Roughly he pushed her to her back and followed her down, his mouth taking unquestionable possession of hers, his hands cupping her face, his body insistently thrusting. „Tell me you want me.“
„I want you.“ She did. Throbbing a primal rhythm in response to his passion, her body lifted against him. Her hands clumsily pulled at his shirt until she’d parted it to his waist, touching his chest, shuddering when he groaned.
He stripped away her robe and knelt between her legs, yanking at his cuffs until the buttons popped off. She sat up and holding his gaze, unhooked her bra and dropped it off the side of the bed. He did the rest, getting rid of her panties and his pants, then he stopped. And he stared. And her mouth went dry.
This wasn’t the slow, considerate lover she’d known. He was frantic, shaking, hanging on to his control by a thread. She severed that thread when she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down on her. Their kisses were wild and open-mouthed, lips and cheeks and any piece of skin they could reach until she was vibrating under him.
„Abe, do it. Now.“
And he did, entering her hard and deep, groaning into her mouth when she cried out. He plunged wildly, taking them higher with every thrust into her body. She felt the now familiar tightening of her inner muscles, a miracle after so many years alone, then she fell into the heaven she’d found only with this man, her climax stunning in its strength. But what was the true gift was the expression on his face, the stark beauty of his features as he reached his own peak, the shudder of his body as he spilled himself into her.
He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath. She stroked his broad back and waited, knowing the instant he came back to himself. He stilled, drew a deep breath. And said the words she’d waited a lifetime to hear.
„I love you, too.“ Then he rolled them to their sides, cup-ping her buttocks and pulling her close so they remained as one.
A long time later, well after she’d thought him asleep, she felt the rumble of his voice against her cheek. „Kristen, I’m sorry. I forgot about protection.“
„It’s all right,“ she murmured.
He didn’t say anything for a minute. „So the timing’s not right?“ he asked, tentatively. She heard disappointment in his tone, faint, but there.
She swallowed convulsively. „No, it’s not right.“
And it never would be.
I’ll never have the child you want, Abe.
She waited for the words to spill from her mouth, wished they would tumble as effortlessly as all the other thoughts had. But Abe was obviously right. That only worked when she really wanted him to hear it. Because this, she didn’t. Not now, not ever.
Saturday, February 28,
9:00 a.m.
She hurt.
It was the first coherent thought Zoe had as she surfaced from the fog that enveloped her.
She was moving. That was the second thought. There was an eerie sense of floating. Then reality began to descend and with it the vile, unbearable images.
Oh, God, I hurt. He hurt me. She shuddered, remembering the brutality she’d endured at the hands of Drake Edwards. She tried to whimper, but her voice was gone. She blinked, tried to determine her surroundings. There was white. Lots of white. Maybe I’m dead Please let me be dead. Death was preferable to Drake Edwards. The movement slowed and she became aware of doors, of passing through doors, then the movement stopped.