stiffened, again moving a step away. “I thought we were,” she agreed, “until…” She left the words unspoken, but the reminder was there all the same. Heather’s skin tingled where he’d touched her, and she suspected he wasn’t just talking about their marriage. For a while, they had shared something special, and she had no trouble remembering those wonderfully happy times. Those memories taunted her often, as did the memory of the moment he’d left her.
“We both made mistakes, but we had a good life for a while.”
“I haven’t forgotten, Justin.” Her admission came reluctantly, and brought a barely noticeable look of relief to his features.
“Maybe we can recapture what we had.”
“Justin—”
“We were married for six years,” he interrupted, his tone slightly challenging. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
She bristled. “I could ask you the same thing. I haven’t heard a word from you in a year, and now you show up wanting me to go away with you.”
“You didn’t bother to contact me, either,” he reminded her sharply.
Heather felt a wave of embarrassment sweep over her. His charge was justified, more so than hers. She’d had more reason to contact him than he knew. “You’re right, but—”
“Come to Texas with me,” he said again, softening his tone. He cocked his head and studied her. “That’s all I’m asking. It’ll give us time to think about what’s happened between us, time to decide where we should go from here.” Surprise filled her gaze once again. “Would you be willing to try again to make our marriage work?”
“I…I don’t know,” she answered honestly, astonished at how her pulse raced at the thought. Could she really risk her heart again?
Justin didn’t say anything for a moment. He turned and went to the window and stared out of it. Heather nervously bit her bottom lip, wondering what he was thinking. Just as she was about to speak, he turned and faced her.
“How about if we give it a month?” He walked back over to her and stopped so close that she could feel his body heat. “One month. Isn’t our marriage worth a month out of your life?”
Heather swayed, staggered by his proposition. “A month,” she repeated. He was putting a timetable on their reconciliation. Now, that sounded more like the Justin she remembered. Always in control.
Justin nodded. “It’s long enough to see if we can work things out,” he rationalized. “If after a month it isn’t working, I’ll give you a divorce.” His jaw tightened a fraction.
Heather still couldn’t believe this was happening, and she was hesitant to give him the power to hurt her again. Yes, she still had feelings for her husband—but only because he was the father of her son. And what about when he learned about their baby? Would Justin use Timmy to pressure her into staying married?
She was astute enough to realize that she saw very little change in Justin. He was still a man of few words, still kept his thoughts to himself. Though Heather had always felt during her marriage that he cared for her, he had never really said the words. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. Words of love never came easy to her, either, and she’d held back her own thoughts and feelings. It was also obvious that he still wanted to control everything around him.
However, in the past year she’d changed, grown independent. She was used to making decisions for herself.
Deep in thought, Heather was unaware of how close Justin had come to her until he reached for her and drew her against him. Caught by surprise, she put her hands flat against his hard-muscled chest. In the past, they’d settled many problems in each other’s arms—the last being when she’d gotten pregnant with Timmy. But she wasn’t going to let him get away with it now.
Not this time.
Leaning backward, she put enough pressure in her arms to break his embrace. He frowned, and his lips flattened into a thin line. But he let her go. She stepped farther away, enough to feel as if she could breathe normally again. She hated the way he had of stealing her breath with his mere presence.
“One month, Heather.”
The ringing of the telephone startled them both. Heather murmured an apology. “I have to get that,” she said, suspecting it was her mother. Quickly moving across the room, she picked up the telephone receiver on the end table.
“Hello,” she said. “Oh, Mom. Yes, I know I’m late. I’m sorry.” She glanced at Justin before quickly looking away.
He watched her talk on the phone with her mother. He’d always liked Kathryn Watson. She was warm and attentive without being controlling or smothering—the kind of mother that he’d always yearned for, the kind of mother he’d never known. Now that he’d met Miranda, Justin thought she, too, seemed to be kindhearted and caring. She’d made an effort to get close to him, but so far he hadn’t been able to totally let his guard down around her—or any of the other Fortunes.
His reserve around his extended family didn’t include his sister Emma. He and his twin shared a certain respect for each other, a bond that only twins could feel. He’d been amazed by her easygoing nature, despite her troubled past. When they’d met, he’d learned she was on the run from an abusive ex-boyfriend. Had he not been reassured by Sinclair that Emma would be safe with him, Justin would have taken care of her himself. The thought of someone hurting her infuriated him. Justin was pleased that Emma had found Flynn, who loved her and her newborn daughter.
“I have some unexpected company.”
Heather’s voice drew his attention, and he wondered what Kathryn would say if she knew it was him. He strained forward to hear what he could of the conversation, and it was obvious she was avoiding telling her mother about him. Well, that was okay. Kathryn would know soon enough that he wanted to reconcile.
His wife sighed heavily. “It’s Justin, Mom.” She listened for a moment. “I’m going to be a few minutes longer, if that’s okay.” More silence, and her foot tapped the floor nervously. “Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it.”
Heather hung up the telephone, then turned to face him. Her expression was shadowed, probably out of a need for self-preservation. But Justin didn’t miss the brief glimpse of awareness in her eyes, and he took that as a sign that she still felt something for him.
She ran the pink tip of her tongue over her upper lip, and he bit back an oath. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to pull her to him and make love to her, to show her there was an underlying spark between them that they could build on.
She represented everything he’d worked for in his life—and everything he’d been unable to hold on to. He’d lost the woman he’d loved, his home, and with her unfortunate miscarriage, the family he’d wanted so badly. They’d had a chance once. Was it irrational to believe they could have another?
He resisted the urge to pull her back into his embrace, and as though she needed to put space between them, she stepped farther away from him and stood beside one of the big overstuffed chairs that decorated the room.
Her hands tightened on the back of the chair, her knuckles turning white. She looked…wary, and Justin could understand that. He’d deeply disappointed her once, although
