That Night We Made Baby. Mary Wilson Anne

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СКАЧАТЬ heard it, really heard it, a voice that he’d almost forgotten existed until that moment. A voice that belonged to the only person he didn’t want to see right then. This was no dream, no illusion or hallucination, but reality. Samantha was real, so painfully real that he longed for the dream. Something he could vanquish simply by waking up.

      He regrouped, more shaken then he could comprehend, and gasped for control. He took a breath of his own, then was able to speak in a remarkably normal voice. “Sam. I had no idea you were in Los Angeles.”

      “I…I’m just in town for a few days. I’m going back tomorrow.”

      He tried to remember where Danforth had said she’d gone, what her mailing address had been. Jensen Pass. That was it—a tiny coastal village north of San Francisco. That’s where she was supposed to be, not standing motionless by a massive cherry desk, with papers in her hands, staring at him as if he were an alien life-form. She was making him feel even more disoriented than he had been.

      As Sam stood a bit straighter, Danforth spoke quickly. “This situation might be rather awkward for the two of you,” he said. “Tell you what, Nick. I can have the papers messengered over to your office tomorrow.”

      Nick needed air, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he pushed aside everything that seemed to be bombarding him and took control. He wasn’t about to have this hanging over his head for one more day. “No reason to put it off,” Nick said. “Let’s get it over with.”

      The words came out with an edge he hadn’t intended, and he didn’t miss the way Sam’s expression tightened. Or the fact that he had to narrow his eyes to dull the sharp vividness of her being. But narrowed eyes couldn’t stop the unsteadiness that persisted inside him or the way his head continued pounding.

      “Actually, I was ready to leave,” Sam said, and her lashes lowered just enough to shadow her eyes and guard her emotions. She was putting the papers in a large envelope, talking as she slid them inside, her voice in some way filtering into his consciousness. “I’m finished here. I just came…” She exhaled , and the sound echoed through Nick. Not that there was an echo in the luxurious office. The echo was inside him, another extra from being sick that he didn’t welcome. Her gaze went to Danforth. “I’ll read them, then get them back to you as soon as I can.”

      “I can send a messenger to your hotel for them if you just call the office when they’re ready.”

      “I won’t be there. I’m leaving first thing tomorrow, so I’ll get them back to you.”

      “You’ve got Express Mail in—what’s it called, Jensen Pass?” Nick asked with no idea why he would say something that sounded so sarcastic.

      She turned to him, holding the envelope in one hand, her other hand nervously twisting her locket. The locket had been her mother’s and at one time had held a picture of him. “Ever the logical mind,” she said, bitterness edging her words. “Rest assured we have all the amenities in Jensen Pass. Electricity, running water, indoor plumbing and Express Mail. We’re not exactly in the boondocks there.”

      He had no idea what Jensen Pass was or wasn’t, but he did know that for some reason his sarcasm was growing. “You left all those luxuries behind to come here to get the papers?”

      She glanced down at the envelope in her hand as if she’d all but forgotten about it. “Oh, no, I had no idea…”

      Her tongue touched her pale lips, and the sight sent a jolt through him that he found himself clearing his throat to control. God, what was so wrong with him that he could literally taste her in his mouth?

      “I was in the city to see about a showing. This whole paper-signing thing…it’s just a…” She nibbled on her bottom lip and he filled in the word for her.

      “A bonus?”

      Her expression tightened again, this time drawing a fine line between her eyes and compressing her mouth. Color touched her cheeks. “Not hardly,” she said as her chin lifted just a bit. “But it is convenient.”

      Suddenly, his legs felt rubbery and he moved farther into the room. Veering away from Sam, he reached for the closest chair and gripped the high leather back with one hand. Danforth was talking, and Nick had to force himself to focus on the lawyer to comprehend what he was saying.

      “Actually, Samantha’s right. It is convenient. You’re both here, so we can get this over with right now.”

      Nick actually needed the support of the chair, and if he hadn’t been so distracted by Sam’s unexpected appearance, that would have really annoyed him. “Sure, whatever,” Nick muttered.

      “I don’t want anything from Nick,” Sam stated, “so it should be very simple. I just don’t see why we couldn’t have gotten an annulment.”

      Danforth looked at Nick. “You never mentioned that.”

      “I never thought of it,” he murmured, his hand tightening on the leather chair. “But if Sam wants to do that instead of—”

      “Well, you’d need proof of fraud to get an annulment since I assume the marriage was consummated.”

      “No, no,” Sam said quickly. “This is almost finished. That would be foolish.”

      Nick saw the color in Sam’s cheeks rise even more, and she was staring hard at the envelope in her hand. Fraud? How about stupidity? And the marriage had been consummated—over and over again. Sex had been just about the only thing between them that they had both wanted—except for this divorce.

      He felt a treacherous response to the memories as they started to return, and he moved carefully to sink into the chair.

      “A divorce is fine,” Sam was saying, holding on to the envelope with her left hand, a hand without a ring. The single diamond was where she’d left it—in the side drawer of his desk. He hadn’t looked at it since she’d walked out. “But I need to read the papers before I sign,” she continued.

      “Of course,” Danforth said.

      Sam let go of the locket and skimmed her hand behind her neck, lifting her chin slightly and exposing her throat for a flashing instant. Nick was suddenly bombarded with the memory of the feel of her skin against his, that heat and silk, the pleasure that came in waves, the sensation of her pulse against his lips. He cleared his throat abruptly, tightening his hands on the arms of the chair and forcing himself to make small talk. “How’s your work going?”

      Her green-eyed gaze turned to him, and the impact made his head swim. “Fine. I’m working on several paintings, actually. They might be picked up for the Orleans series.” He must have looked blank because she went on to explain. “It’s a children’s series of morality books.”

      “Morality books,” he repeated.

      “Honor, truth, loyalty…doing the right thing.”

      He had the strangest idea that she was rebuking him somehow. “It’s a series?”

      “Five titles in the planning. They saw some other children’s illustrations I did and they liked them.” She shrugged slightly. “They liked them very much.”

      For a moment, he thought she was going to smile and he found himself bracing СКАЧАТЬ