Reclaiming His Pregnant Widow. Tessa Radley

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СКАЧАТЬ There was contempt in the frigid gaze that met hers, and something else …

      Disappointment?

      His lack of faith stung. She deserved a chance to explain, and she didn’t doubt that he’d listen once he’d calmed down. Brand might have a dangerous reputation, but he loved her.

      Or did he?

      The first shadow of doubt stole over her. Clea stilled. She’d always imagined that something terrible must’ve happened to keep him away for so long. A horrific accident. Memory loss. Trauma so terrible he hadn’t wanted her to see him in such a state.

      Instead he stood before her looking breathtakingly hunky in the tuxedo and black shirt, his body even better conditioned than four years earlier—some feat because Brand had always honed his body to perfection. His face was burnished bronze by the sun, contrasting with the color of his sea-green eyes to devastating effect. An aura of reckless danger now clung to him, causing her heart to beat faster.

      He might not be the Brand she’d kissed goodbye at the airport—but he wasn’t damaged or scarred.

      Yet she had to admit, dressed all in black, he looked like the devil incarnate.

      Without taking her eyes from him, she toed off her shoes, adding another two inches to the height advantage he already possessed. “So why didn’t you tell me you were going to Baghdad?” she challenged.

      Brand stared back at her.

      Did he cause Anita Freeman’s heart to beat faster, too? “Answer me!”

      Nothing. Not even a blink. He simply kept watching her with that basilisk stare she was starting to loathe.

      “I’ve waited—”

      A brow lifted ironically at that. “Waited?”

      “Yes! Waited.” Clea pushed a tendril back off her face. “The last decent conversation we shared, you were in London—about to go to Greece. We argued about that. Remember?” She’d wanted to rearrange her schedule and had asked Brand to wait until she could join him. He’d refused—and ordered her to stay home. Clea hadn’t taken kindly to being so summarily dismissed. It wasn’t the first time that Brand had made decisions for her. She’d sulked. He’d called her once more from Athens—and their conversation had been stilted and brief. Just before he’d cut the connection, he’d told her he loved her.

      Then there’d been no more contact.

      When he didn’t respond, she said, “You never told me you planned to go to Iraq.”

      His gaze didn’t waver. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

      Could the explanation really be that simple? Or had the business trip to Greece been a cover for an affair with another woman? Had the investigators’ first theory—supported by her father and Harry—been correct after all?

      The ticking of the two wall clocks was the only sound in the room.

      Clea broke the silence. “That’s all? That’s the reason you never mentioned it?” If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, Clea might have missed the sideways flicker of his eyes.

      Brand wasn’t telling her the truth.

      Or at least not the whole truth.

      The silence stretched until Clea broke it. “Don’t you think concern that you might be maimed or kidnapped or even killed would be a reasonable reaction to being told that you were going to Baghdad?”

      He shrugged, his broad shoulders flexing under the tuxedo, causing her gaze to stray for a brief moment before returning to his face. “I served there with the SAS,” he said. “I know the territory—and the risks.”

      Frustration and a feeling of letdown drove her to sarcasm. “Okay, so those risks might not worry super-humans like you … but they sure do worry me.”

      “Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you—I didn’t have time to soothe you.”

      Like some clingy child. But this was getting interesting. Brand was lying to her. Clea was certain of it. His face wore a set expression, and his eyes had flicked away again. “So what was so important that you simply went without consulting me? And why no contact since? Surely you can’t have been in Baghdad all this time?”

      He resumed staring at her, tight-lipped.

      Clea tried again. “Were you on some covert mission?”

      He laughed at that, making her feel ridiculously melodramatic. Yet she couldn’t help thinking of the dark-suited men who had surfaced after his disappearance and asked her why he’d gone to Baghdad—and seemed to know all about his special forces background.

      “At least tell me it’s classified, if that’s the reason.”

      “I wasn’t part of a military operation.”

      She deserved more than being stonewalled. Drawing a deep breath, Clea eased back against her glass-topped desk and said, “Tell me where you’ve been, and I’ll consider explaining about the baby … on condition that you don’t interrupt me until I’ve told you everything.”

      “I don’t need your conditions—or your explanations,” he said. A look followed that slashed her from head to toe—with significant focus on her almost-flat stomach. “I can see exactly what you’ve been up to.”

      Brand might not need explanations, but she sure as hell did.

      Yet Clea wasn’t about to let him see how much she cared. Not while he treated her like a leper. Instead she gave him a reciprocal once-over, taking in every inch of tanned skin and the trim body beneath the tuxedo, and then she pursed her lips. “Let me guess where you’ve been. Sunning yourself on the Mediterranean? Socializing with the Aga Khan?”

      Sleeping with another woman? Clea was too terrified of his response to voice the last suspicion. But was it possible that her father and the investigators had been correct? That Brand had been having an affair? Was it possible that Brand had been living with his lover for the four years he’d gone missing without a trace? He certainly possessed the skills to remain undetected for as long as he wanted—if he wanted.

      Brand’s face had tightened. “You’ve developed a sharp tongue.”

      “Now it’s my fault?”

       What was she doing?

      Clea shut her eyes. Why was she fighting with Brand? This wasn’t what she wanted. Remorse washed over her and she shook her head to clear it of the turmoil and confusion, searching for calm. How had it all gone so wrong so quickly? This was Brand. She loved him. She’d always believed in him. She’d waited for him to return every day. Every night. Yet now that he was here she was hurting so much she could spit … and doubts were setting in.

       They had to stop this.

      She fisted her hands at her sides and drew in a ragged breath. When she was certain she had herself under control—that she wouldn’t yell, or blubber like an idiot—she opened her eyes and said evenly, “Sorry, I didn’t СКАЧАТЬ