a moment it looked as if Drake wanted to reach out to her, to draw her closer to him. But when he spoke, his voice was cool, almost businesslike.
“At the end of this month, we’ll see how much you really thank me, Hope.”
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN THE ALARM CLOCK sounded the next morning, Hope opened her eyes to find she was the sole occupant of the bed. But she didn’t need to see the indentation of the pillow next to her to know Drake had slept there. All through the night she’d been desperately aware of his hard, masculine body stretched out only inches away from her.
For hours she’d lain there staring into the darkness, remembering when their love had been full of fiery passion. He would have automatically reached for her or she for him. Hope had always been eager to give him pleasure, and she had to admit Drake had been more than a generous lover. Now he refused to touch her for fear of making her pregnant.
The thought renewed the deep ache that was always inside her these days, and she sighed as she reached out and touched his side of the bed. Last night she’d been afraid to sleep, afraid she would unconsciously creep into his arms. As a result, she’d dozed fitfully until the alarm clock had buzzed on the nightstand beside her.
Across the bedroom, to her right, the door to the bathroom was shut. The sound of the shower told her Drake was already getting ready for the day ahead. In the past, he would have lingered in bed, using what little time they had before work to be close to her. But that part of their life was over. She had to forget it and move on.
With a tired groan, she shoved her hair off her face and reached for her robe. She couldn’t survive a month of this, she thought as she groggily tied the sash at her waist. It would kill her.
In the kitchen, she discovered Drake had already made coffee. She quickly filled a mug, and after a heavy dollop of half-and-half took a grateful sip. Caffeine would have to sustain her through the day. And tonight…well, she would just have to forget her husband was lying beside her.
Hope was finishing her coffee when Drake entered the kitchen dressed in a dark suit, a white shirt checked with tiny black windowpanes and black Western boots. His light brown hair waved damply away from his broad forehead and his strong jaw shone with freshly applied aftershave. As he crossed to the coffeepot, the musky scent trailed to where she sat at the table.
She hadn’t realized having him back in the house was going to be so tempting. Or so painful.
“You’re early,” she said to him. “Stevie’s flight isn’t scheduled to arrive until nine-fifteen.”
He poured a mug full of coffee, then turned to her. As her eyes scanned his face, she decided he looked disgustingly rested. Obviously sleeping next to her hadn’t been the least bit distracting for him.
“I have some work in the study that I want to go over before we leave.”
“Oh.” She should have known he hadn’t put aside this morning exclusively for her or his little nephew.
He made a point of glancing at his wristwatch. “Will you be ready by eight-thirty?”
She nodded, then forced her attention to the bay window across one wall of the kitchen, which gave a view of the backyard. “I’ll come to the study when I finish dressing.”
“Fine,” he said, then left the room and Hope without a clue to what he was really thinking.
Upstairs, she made a point of dressing casually in jeans and a bright red sweater with a rhinestone candy cane pinned to one side. She didn’t want Stevie to view her as a starched and staid aunt whom he couldn’t get near for fear of ruining her clothing.
As for Drake, she supposed his tall, stern demeanor would seem formidable to most any child. But Hope knew that beneath his outward cool was a man capable of warmth and love. She could only wonder whether he would show Stevie that part of himself. As for ever showing any tender feelings toward her again, she’d given up on that months ago.
Less than an hour later they left the house with a minimum of conversation. The residential area was behind them and the morning rush-hour traffic buzzing on either side of them before Drake decided to break the somber silence.
“You’ve been very quiet this morning. Did you sleep last night?”
Hope glanced across the car seat to where his lanky body sat comfortably behind the wheel. His gaze was on the traffic ahead, yet even if she could have seen his eyes, she doubted she would have known what was on his mind. Drake had always been a man to keep his feelings hidden. Now that trouble had come to their marriage, he was even more of a closed book.
“Yes, I slept.” Drake didn’t need to know the sum total of her sleep had probably been less than an hour and that he’d been the sole reason for her miserable night. “I’ve been thinking. About Stevie.”
“What about him?”
Hope sighed, wishing her heart felt as bright as the morning. The gray clouds had cleared and sunshine spilled over the busy city streets of Austin. Maybe the sudden break in the weather was a good omen. She certainly needed one.
“I just wonder what he’ll think about us,” she answered. “The last time we saw him was nearly a year ago. Do you think he’ll remember us?”
Drake shrugged one shoulder. “Kids remember more than you think. It probably won’t matter much if he remembers us or not. I figure the boy is constantly being thrown on strangers. We’ll just be two more in his life.”
She grimaced as her gaze slid over his hard profile. “How can you be so callous? None of this means anything to you, does it?”
Even though they were traveling a busy thoroughfare, Drake shot her a look of disbelief. It wouldn’t do any good to explain to her that his comments had come from personal experience. That if he’d sounded callous, it was because he knew what it was like as a child to be dumped by your parents. Hope only wanted to believe that he disliked children. Even the thought of them in general. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Biting back a sigh, he asked, “Then why am I driving you to the airport to meet Stevie? The clinic has been thrown into turmoil lately. All the bad publicity surrounding baby Cody has begun to hurt Maitland’s finances, and I’m the man responsible for the money that keeps everything running. It’s made hell out of my job. At this very moment I have urgent work waiting on my desk.”
Hope looked away from him before he could see the disappointment in her eyes. Work and money. She, more than anyone, understood how important those two things were. As a child, it had only been Hope and her mother. And Georgia had never understood the word responsibility. What little money her mother had made at waitressing or cleaning houses, she’d spent frivolously. And the men she’d married after Hope’s father had skipped out weren’t any better.
“I’m aware of all the trouble going on at the clinic.”
He cast her a sharp glance. “But that doesn’t mean anything to you?”
Hope bit her lower lip, wondering how things between them had gotten to this point. Their marriage had always been special. As the years passed, the two of them had grown closer rather than apart. They had rarely argued over anything. She realized the miscarriage had been as traumatic for
