of linens.”I don’t appreciate your making fun of me.”
The way she so easily dismissed what had happened between them a year ago really pissed him off. Okay, so their wedding had been an impulsive mistake. His brothers had been getting married. He’d had this idea that what he felt around Eloisa resembled what his brothers described about finding”the one.” He may have been wrong about that. She may have had a couple of drinks, but she’d been clear about how much she wanted him, too, how much she’d needed him.
Need wasn’t love. But they had felt something for each other, something strong and undeniable.
“I would never mock you.” Frustration sliced through him with a razor-sharp edge.”There are far more interesting things I would like to do with you tonight. Let’s back up to the part about sex.”
She laughed.”At no time were we talking about sex.”
“You mentioned making cherubs.” Yeah, they were engaging in good old-fashioned bantering but damn, he found it arousing and a fine way to take the edge off his anger.”I’m sorry if your mother never got around to giving you the talk, but sex makes babies.”
Her face closed up again.”You’re not half as funny as you think you are.”
“I’m halfway funny? Cool.”
She dumped an armful of linens into his lap.”Make up your own bed on the sofa. I’m done here.”
He watched her grab her purse before pounding up the steps to her bedroom, and he couldn’t even rejoice over the fact she’d let him stay. Her door clicked shut behind her, the sound of a lock snicking a second later.
Somewhere along the line he’d misstepped. And he didn’t have a clue what he’d done wrong now any more than before.
Upstairs in her room, Eloisa sunk to the edge of her bed, sliding down to the floor. She clutched her knees, tears making fast tracks down her face.
Seeing Jonah touch that glass paperweight had almost driven her to her knees earlier. After she’d lost the baby four months into her pregnancy, she’d had a private memorial service all her own for her child. She’d taken a tiny nosegay of white rosebuds to the beach and let waves carry them away as she’d prayed.
She’d kept one rose for herself. The bloom had dried far faster than her tears. Then she’d had the bud encased in glass along with a couple of tiny shells and some sand from that stretch of shoreline.
Jonah obviously loved children, evident not just from his words but from the way his eyes had gone soft over that family photo album. Each beautiful baby’s face had torn a fresh hole in heart, tormenting her with what her child—hers and Jonah’s—might have looked like.
The doctors had told her it was just one of those things. There was no reason why she couldn’t have more children, but she couldn’t see any way clear to having forever with any man, much less starting a family.
Between fears about threats from her father’s enemies to even deeper fears about living out her mother’s legacy … Eloisa swiped her eyes with her forearm.
God, she was mess.
What would Jonah say if he learned she’d kept the pregnancy a secret from him?
She still didn’t understand why she’d delayed contacting him about the baby. She’d told herself she would let him know before their child was born. When she’d miscarried and her emotions had been such a turmoil of grief, contacting him seemed an overwhelming hurdle.
Every day that passed, it seemed easier to stay quiet. Telling him now wouldn’t serve any purpose.
Her cell phone chimed from inside her purse, startling her midsob. She definitely didn’t feel like speaking to anyone this late. Thank goodness the chimes indicated a text message.
She fished out her phone. Her sister’s name scrolled across the screen. Eloisa thumbed View.
R U home? Worried about u.
Eloisa clutched the phone. She’d never shared her burdens with anyone before. The secrets were too big, too deep. Unburdening herself would be selfish. She stifled back the crazy notion of what it might feel like to spill her guts to her sibling.
Eloisa typed out, Am home and ok. No worries.
She sent the message and pushed to her feet. She needed to splash water on her eyes and go to sleep. Would that be possible with Jonah downstairs on the sofa?
Her phone chimed in her hand. Audrey again.
What about tycoon hunk? Is he there?
She set the cell on the bathroom counter next to the sink. Her fingers hovered over the keypad. What should she tell her sister?
He was most definitely bothering her by his mere presence so much more than she could have even expected. But if she wanted time to figure out what to do about him, her father, her biology, she needed to play along with his bizarre game a while longer.
Beyond that? What did she want?
Eloisa looked at herself in a mirror framed with seashells and sand dollars. She picked at a strand of hair that had slipped loose from her severe ponytail, her face devoid of makeup. But her cheeks were flushed in a way they’d never been before—except for that too-short month in Spain.
The truth settled inside her with a resounding thud. She couldn’t be the sort of person who would walk into that living room, whip the covers off Jonah and say to hell with the consequences, she was making the most of her marital status. She’d gone that route before and it only led to their current mess.
A tempting alternative tickled at her brain. What if she did sleep with him again, but the next time was more about fun, with no ring? She’d let things get too serious before. That had obviously been a mistake on so many levels.
Could she forget the past and have an affair with her ex-husband?
Five
Eloisa made it through the night without a trip downstairs, although it had been rough going when she’d woken up at around four.
But finally the morning sun streaked through her reed roll-up blinds. She could leave her room without feeling she’d caved. Since it was only six-thirty, she might just get to watch him sleep, something she’d missed out on during their one night together.
She pulled on a white terry-cloth robe, securing it tight before leaving her bedroom. Halfway down the stairs she realized the sofa was empty. Well, empty other than the thin quilt straggling off the side. The pillow still bore the deep imprint of a head. Eloisa padded barefoot down the rest of the steps, her toes sinking into the carpet runner along the wood.
Where was Jonah? The spare bathroom downstairs was silent, the door cracked open, steam still lightly fogging the mirror and a pale blue towel hung on the rack. Had he left as abruptly as he’d shown up, even after joking about wanting a final night together? Just the thought of being with him again sent a tingle along her skin, a tingle doused by the possibility he’d already left.
Her bare feet picked up speed along the
