her voice a firm, quiet counterpoint to the echo of his own rising tone.
Sean had always prided himself on his ability to handle problems in his personal life in the same businesslike manner in which he dealt with professional problems. He counted his quiet competence as one of the main reasons why he’d had such success with the corporate security company he’d started after he’d completed his service in the military.
He knew from long experience that flying off the handle rarely earned anyone anything they really wanted. In fact, he only had to look back half a year to be reminded of where the last volatile confrontation he’d had with his wife had gotten him.
Marshaling his resources, he picked up his glass, looked away from Charlotte and took a long swallow of whiskey as he quickly counted to ten. Then he set aside his glass, took a steadying breath and spoke again.
“So why are you bringing up the subject of adoption now?” he asked, pleased that he managed to sound reasonable once again.
“Because I still want to be a mother—I still need to be a mother—and now I have the chance. But only if you’ll help me,” Charlotte answered in a rush, the look in her eyes one of pleading. “We’ve been approved to adopt a baby girl—as a couple.”
She set the paper and attached photograph on the island countertop and pushed it toward him with a fingertip. But Sean was too stunned by what she’d just said to acknowledge it even with a glance.
Adopt a baby girl? Was Charlotte nuts?
“All I’m asking is that you go with me to Kazakhstan to complete the adoption process,” she added, so amazingly calm and collected that all he could do was stare at her in disbelief. “Of course, we’ll have to pretend that we’re still happily married and living together in Mayfair, but only for a few months. Then you can move back here again and file for divorce if that’s what you want to do. I promise that I’ll agree to whatever terms you choose, and I won’t ask you for anything more ever again—not even child support.”
“Surely you can’t be serious—” Sean began, still unable to believe that she was not only asking something so preposterous of him, but also doing it in such an amazingly blithe manner.
He had prepared himself for the revelation of a serious illness, a request for a divorce, or in the best of all possible worlds, an offer of reconciliation on his terms. But to even suggest that he travel halfway around the world with her— to Kazakhstan, of all places—to adopt a foreign child he neither wanted nor needed in his life… She couldn’t possibly be thinking straight, could she?
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” Charlotte assured him, her voice wavering, but not her gaze. “Please, Sean…please, please help me bring our little girl home.”
“She’s not our little girl, Charlotte—”
“Yes…yes, she is. Just look at her—she’s beautiful….”
Sean didn’t want to do it—didn’t want to look at the small color photograph attached to the sheet of paper lying on the countertop. But neither could he ignore completely the desperate urgency he heard in his wife’s voice.
Obviously she was well on the way to irrationality regarding this business of adoption. Maybe by cooperating with her just a little he’d eventually be able to calm her down enough to make her see reason.
His mouth set in a grim line, Sean stared at Charlotte for a long, unhappy moment. She continued to meet his gaze without flinching, and at the same time, pushed the photograph a tad closer to him across the countertop.
With a reluctance much greater than he should have been experiencing under the circumstances, Sean finally shifted his gaze to the small photograph. His eyes focused on the child’s face captured on it and his breath caught in his throat.
Not a tiny baby, but a toddler of more than a year in age, the little girl in the photo was beautiful, indeed. But she was also so much more than that. With her wispy brown hair and wide brown eyes, her pale porcelain skin and bow-shaped lips, she was the very image of his wife. There was something about the tilt of her little chin and the calm, direct expression on her face that also reminded him of…himself.
She could have been Charlotte’s child—and his, Sean thought, his heart softening unexpectedly. Anyone who saw the three of them together would easily assume Charlotte and he were the child’s biological parents.
For a long moment, he wondered why she looked so serious, then imagined how much fun it would be to make her giggle, just like Charlotte often did when he said something amusing. Surely that was a familiar spark of mischief he saw in the little girl’s big brown eyes.
Only he hadn’t the first clue how to make a child giggle, Sean realized. More than likely, with his background and upbringing, he’d actually be more apt to make her cry. Then Charlotte would sweep her off to cuddle and coddle, leaving him on the outside looking in.
Reminded all over again of the perils inherent in his vision of fatherhood, Sean gave himself a firm mental shake. He simply couldn’t afford to waver any further from the position he’d already taken. Bad as it was to be alone, being hurt and alone would be even worse.
“You’re not going to help with the adoption, are you?” Charlotte asked, the threat of tears evident in her quiet voice.
Having judged his mood all too accurately, she stood now, too, and reached for the photograph with a trembling hand.
Sean wanted to give Charlotte all the reasons why he couldn’t help her. He wanted to ask her, yet again, to understand and accept how he felt about being a father. But what he found himself actually saying surprised him as much as it must surely have surprised his wife.
Catching her hand in his, he stopped her from picking up the photograph. Then, in a gruff voice he barely recognized as his own, he made the only offer he could in good conscience.
“If adopting this child is that important to you, then I will help you in any way I can,” he said.
“Oh, Sean—” Charlotte began, the smile lighting up her face a glorious thing to behold.
“But,” he interrupted her, his voice flat and his gaze steady as he held up a warning hand to her.
He refused to be diverted from the course he’d chosen by either acknowledging or encouraging her initial joy.
“What?” she asked with confusion, her smile quickly fading.
Sean hesitated for the space of a heartbeat. Then he laid out his terms in a steely tone.
“I’ll help you only with the understanding that once we’re home again and you’re settled with the child, our marriage will be over, and I’ll be filing for divorce.”
Chapter Three
Charlotte stared at Sean, the echo of his last words resounding between them in the brightly lit kitchen, punctuated only by the still steady drumbeat of rain against the window above the sink.
She felt as if she’d just been treated to a wild, unwanted roller-coaster ride. The emotional ups and downs she’d experienced in the space
