The Seven Year Secret. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ telephone sitting near Connor’s right hand jingled loudly, making him jump. He fumbled it to his ear, scrabbling to gather up the baby pictures the cord had knocked askew.

      He shut his eyes. Claire. He wished he could ward off the questions that would undoubtedly come.

      “Hi,” she said cheerily. “I know you didn’t expect to hear from me until we met at the church on Sunday. But Paul just came by the house to pick up Lauren. He acted really odd. He said your bachelor party broke up early, but he wouldn’t say why. In fact, he was so insistent I ask you, it frightened me. Of course, I realize I’m suffering prewedding nerves.” She gave a short laugh. “Janine and my other bridesmaids said I wouldn’t feel better until I phoned you. So here I am.”

      Connor felt the pressure of her unspoken need to have him alleviate her fears. He ran a hand through his hair, not having a clue where to begin. He’d known Claire for almost a year. In their early, getting-to-know-you phase, he’d mentioned that there’d once been someone special in his past. Hadn’t he? Still silent, he tried to recall those initial conversations.

      “Connor? Say something. You’re really frightening me.”

      “We have to talk,” he said abruptly. “But not over the phone. Can you get away if I come by in…say, twenty minutes?”

      “I guess so,” Claire said a little shakily. “It’ll be after nine o’clock, though. You have to have me home by midnight. Not that I’ll turn into a pumpkin,” she murmured, stabbing weakly at humor. “But if the groom sees the bride the day before the wedding, it’s supposed to be bad luck for a marriage….” Her voice trailed off.

      “We’ll go for coffee at that burger place just off Twenty-seventh, okay? I could use a cup of strong Cajun coffee about now.”

      “Did you overindulge tonight? I know you didn’t really want a bachelor party.”

      “No,” he said stiffly. “But I’ll admit we made a fair dent in the keg Paul brought. If you’d rather not go for coffee, Claire, I can do without.”

      “Coffee’s fine. And twenty minutes will give me time to tell the hangers-on goodbye, and hide away all the lacy lingerie I received at the shower,” she said, giving a feeble rendition of a sultry growl.

      “That’s right. I forgot you had a—what did you call it?—personal shower.”

      The woman at the other end of the line sighed. “Honestly, Connor, aren’t you intrigued enough to sound at least a little excited about the lingerie I got?”

      “Sorry, I guess my mind’s not the sharpest it’s ever been. Knowing Janine, Lauren and Abby, I suspect what they bought won’t leave much to a man’s imagination.” This time, his drawl could be considered closer to normal.

      “No. My friends aren’t what you’d describe as conventional.”

      “That’s a fact.”

      “You sound as if you disapprove of them.”

      “Because I agreed with you? Look, Claire, I’ve explained that I’m not myself tonight. And for whatever reason, you seem oversensitive. Perhaps it’d be best if we saved the rest of this conversation for when we’re sitting face-to-face.”

      “One question first,” she said abruptly. “Connor, why haven’t we slept together yet?”

      “What?” he said too loudly as a strange wave of guilt washed over him. If Claire had asked that question even last week, he wouldn’t have known why he’d continued to resist their spending an entire night together. Unfortunately, it was no longer a mystery. Miami, and indeed all of Florida, was tied to his prior history with Mallory Forrest. Plain and simple, his memories of her in and around this city held him back from making love with Claire.

      Unable to see Connor’s guilty look of alarm, his fiancée charged ahead. “I don’t consider myself promiscuous by any means. But during the shower, when it was only us girls talking, the subject of sexual compatibility surfaced. I didn’t tell anyone we haven’t…ah…done the deed. They’d never believe it. So…I’m willing to toss out my superstitions if you’ll forgo convention. Let’s be wicked and book into one of the beach hotels tonight. Janine said couples who do are more relaxed at the wedding ceremony. They aren’t so anxious to dash off to start their honeymoon. What do you say, Connor?”

      He couldn’t say anything. His conscience played havoc with his mind. In the end, he didn’t have to make lame excuses. Claire, typically accommodating, let him off the hook. “Okay. I won’t ask you to sacrifice your principles because I let Janine and the others override my good sense. I’ll be waiting on the porch in twenty minutes. I can tell something’s really bugging you. Just one last thing. Remember—together, we can overcome anything. That’s what people in love do.” She blew kisses into the phone, as had been her habit since he’d given her an engagement ring three months ago.

      Connor heard the soft click when Claire replaced the receiver. Still, he continued to hold the buzzing instrument to his ear.

      Had he ever believed that a nebulous emotion like love could conquer any and all adversity? No. He placed his faith in the logic of science. Yet he did love Claire, didn’t he?

      Throughout his five-and-a-half-year hiatus on an atoll in the Pacific, he’d been too engrossed in his work to want a substitute for Mallory. The restlessness, the feeling that something was missing in his life, didn’t emerge until after he returned to Florida. Co-workers said that since he’d been out of the social circuit for so long, he needed a woman. He’d decided they were right.

      Not counting the years he’d been with Mallory—for two of those they’d even lived together—he’d been pretty much a loner. Maybe that was why on the day he flipped the calendar and turned up his thirty-third birthday, he’d judged it was high time he settled down and started a family.

      In areas where there were major weather centers, meteorologists formed tight-knit communities. Claire, an operational weather-support person and part-time forecaster, fit in his world. Short and blond, she looked nothing like Mallory Forrest, who was tall, willowy and brunette. Somehow, he and Claire hit it off. For eight months, they’d dated exclusively. And why not? From day one, she’d bent over backward to please him.

      In that aspect, Connor realized, Claire was like Mallory. Was that why he’d proposed marriage so fast? Hanging up the phone, he planted his elbows on the desk, buried his face in his hands and rubbed away a fine tension that tightened the skin around his mouth. Damn, if he didn’t love Claire for herself, he was a class-A asshole.

      Figuring he’d better leave if he was meeting Claire in twenty minutes, he tucked the pictures of his daughter and the report about her condition into an envelope to take along, then dug out his car keys. He would lay this newest development in his life on the table and let Claire decide if she still wanted to hook up with a guy who had a shady past.

      As usual, Claire was ready. And, also as usual, she looked immaculate. That always amazed Connor about her. Her pale hair never had a strand out of place. Her blouses matched whatever else she wore, whether skirt or pants. Her makeup and nail polish were perfectly applied.

      Connor complimented her appearance as he helped her into the front seat. She linked her hands tightly atop her purse, frowning worriedly.

      He hauled in a deep breath, walked around the car and climbed СКАЧАТЬ