“Aw, Laur, no. Don't take this so hard. I know the thing with the furniture must seem like a lie, and in a way, I guess it is, but...but...” she lapsed into conflicted silence “...Cort had the very best intentions, I promise you.”
“Best intentions?” The phrase doused her with foreboding. “What do you mean, â²best intentions'?”
Steffie hesitated, then burst out, “Oh, heck! This is all my fault. I should have listened to Tamika. She warned me that you'd end up hurt, and you are hurt, aren't you? I'm so sorry.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Steffie?” Laura asked sharply, her alarm growing.
“You have to understand, Laura...Tamika, B.J. and I were worried sick over your plans to have a baby with Fletcher. I just heard this morning that you two called it off, and I can't tell you how relieved I am. Fletcher told B.J., and B.J. called Tamika, and Tamikaâ”
“I get the point. You've all been discussing my personal business as if I don't have enough sense to run my own life.” Although she managed to keep her voice reasonably quiet, she couldn't help the anger that threaded through it.
“I understand why you might take it like that, butâ”
“What does my plan with Fletcher have to do with Cort hiring me to decorate his house?” she interrupted, needing desperately to know.
Again, Steffie paused, then said in a deliberately low, calm voice that was obviously meant to soothe, “Cort was only doing what he thought was best. And so were we, because we all love you and care about you.”
“Cut to the chase, Stef!”
“Please don't take this the wrong way, but when you said your appointment at the clinic was Wednesday, we had to find a way to stop you, at least long enough for you to think it over.”
Laura felt the blood drain from her face in a nauseating
whoosh.
“You intentionally kept me from my clinic appointment? All of you? You discussed it, and planned it...and then Cort hired me to decorate his house as part of the scheme?” The shock of that revelation left her reeling.
“Well, it wasn't exactly like that. Cort came up with the
scheme on his own. Oh! No! I meanâHe didn't come up with the
scheme,
but with the idea of hiring you.”
“That's why he insisted I start right away,” Laura stated with a sickening lurch of her heart. “To get me to break my appointment.”
“To slow you down for a while. To give you time to reconsider. For your own good,” Steffie stressed.
“Oh, please...!”
“Face the facts, Laura.” Steffie's voice rose to match the volume and sharpness of Laura's. “The only reason you considered having a baby with a platonic friend is because you're afraid to get seriously involved with a man. You run from the first hint of intimacy. You can't blame us for worrying about what's going to happen to you, because you're not the kind of person who can live without love.”
Laura's heart rose so high in her throat she couldn't respond. She wanted to lash out at Steffieâat all of them, including Cort.
Especially
Cort. But she couldn't argue with what Steffie had just said. She had run from relationships. She had preferred the safety of a platonic friendship.
And intimacy terrified her now more than ever.
But they still had no right to interfere in her life so intrusively. And Cort...! She couldn't bear to think about Cort.
“Maybe I feel more personally involved than I should,” Steffie admitted in a choked voice that edged on tears, “because my brother was the one who hurt you so much. I'd do anything to help you get back to the person you were before he broke your heart. And I believe Cort would, too.”
Laura sat in stunned silence. Could she be right?
“You mean, Cort feels guilty for hurting me...” Laura said, working her way through a painful jumble of thoughts “...and thinks that he's responsible for my...my avoidance of intimate relationships?”
“Well, isn't he?”
“No! I'm the one responsible for the choices I make. No one else. No one else has the right to claim responsibility.”
The silence stretched between them like an unscalable wall.
“I'm sorry that I've upset you so much, Laura. Please believe that we all just wanted you to be happy. And I might be wrong about Cort's feelings, since he never talks about them. But whether he was acting out of guilt or just plain concern, I do know he invited you to decorate his house because he cares about you.”
“Thank you for your honesty in telling me all this.” Laura's voice was a strained whisper. “Having a baby with Fletcher would have been a terrible mistake, and I
am
glad I realized it before things went any further. I believe I would have canceled that clinic appointment on my own, but who knows? Maybe you did me a favor.”
Unless Iâ²ve already conceived Cort's baby.
Â
STEFFIE HAD CRIED A LITTLE, and told Laura again how much she loved her. By the time they hung up, they'd agreed to put the matter behind them.
Laura hoped that would be possible. She hoped no one would ever have to know about the real mistake she had made; the one with the potential to destroy the very fabric of her life.
What a fool she'd been, making love with Cort last night.
At least now, the puzzle pieces had fallen into place. She had no doubt that Cort had acted for “her own good.” She believed that he did indeed care about her. She also knew he felt guilty for hurting her all those years ago. He'd apologized for it at Steffie's. He'd talked to her about her fear of intimate relationships, and tried to make her see that she
was making a mistake with Fletcher. In return, she had cursed at him and swore that she hated him for hurting her, using her, scorning her.
Why shouldn't he believe that he'd traumatized her in a lasting way? And if he believed that, he would certainly feel guilty. He was now clearly trying to make amends...
even if he had to father her baby himself.
An anguished cry tore from her. She shut her eyes and gripped the nightstand for balance.
She should have seen the truth for herself. He'd asked her why she wanted a baby so badly. She'd literally cried on his shoulder trying to explain. And while she had, he must have felt responsibleânot only for hurting her fifteen years ago, but for his part in breaking up her plan with Fletcher; ruining her chance at motherhood.
And he should feel guilty for that! He'd had no right to interfere. Although her breakup with Fletcher had not been Cort's faultâand she did not regret itâshe couldn't overlook the fact that Cort had plotted and lied. Even worse, he may have taken her to bed for reasons she hadn't understood.
Guilt could be a powerfully motivating factor...but not one she wanted involved in his decision to father her baby.
And guilt was certainly not what she'd been hoping he felt toward her. Despite all the lessons she'd learned from him, despite her firm resolve to avoid making the same mistake twice, she had begun to hope, in her heart of hearts, that Cort might be falling in love with her.
The pain of disillusionment hit her with a more crushing force than it had fifteen years ago.
And this time, she could be carrying his baby.
Â
BUSINESS HAD KEPT HIM a little longer than he'd expected. It had seemed like an eternity. He'd had a hell of a time concentrating
on offers, counteroffers and contractual details when thoughts of Laura kept drifting through his mind. He left the negotiating table the moment the deal had been closed and headed home.
Home. To Laura.
Knowing she'd be there filled him with a heady warmth. Thinking about her laughter this morning made him smile. He wondered if she'd been thinking about him. He wondered if she was pregnant with his baby.
He wanted that so damn much. He wanted to be the daddy in her child's life.
His
child's life. He wanted to be the man at their breakfast table. The one who came home to them, and helped fight their battles, and took part in all their plans. He wanted to make love to her and only her for the rest of his life. He wanted her to be desperately in love with him.
It could all start with a baby.
He made an impulsive detour on his way home to a grocery store where he bought ice cream and pickles. He would ask her if she'd been craving either, or both. She would laugh, and say he was getting way ahead of himself. He would kiss her until the laughter and the teasing turned into passion. And then he'd take her to his bed.
Feeling vitally alive, he parked the car in the garage and strode into the house through the kitchen door, the small grocery sack tucked under his arm. “Laura?” he called, glancing casually into rooms as he passed by them. His call echoed through the house. Funny, but even with the echo and the lack of furnishings, the house no longer felt empty. “Laura?”
She didn't answer, and he headed toward the main stairway, wondering where and how he'd find her. In his bedroom, maybe...ready to pick up where they'd left off?
Before he reached the stairway, though, he came to a
dead halt. The most unexpected sight met his eyes. Her luggage. Stacked near the front door. He stared at it in puzzlement. And then foreboding. Dread.
She appeared, then, not from the top of the stairs as he'd expected, but from the drawing room. He knew the moment his gaze locked with hers that something had changed between them. The tender warmth and the alluring glow had given way to cool reserve. She'd reverted to the woman she had been at Steffie's last week. Distant. Wary. Untouchable.
Everything in him rebelled. She couldn't do that! She couldn't shove aside all that they had together. Couldn't take away what he needed so badly. Why would she want to leave him? Had she realized he'd fallen in love with her? Was she running, as everyone had warned him she would? Was she cutting him out of her life, as she had Fletcher?
She broke the silence between them with a quiet, simple statement. “You had your house professionally decorated in August.”
He struggled to understand. She was withdrawing from him, leaving him... because of
the house?
It made no sense. The house meant nothing! Even his deception regarding the house meant nothing. At least, not enough to end their relationship. And he had no doubt that she intended to do just that. Dazed and reeling from the blow, he murmured, “July. It was July.”
She tilted her head and studied him in cool detachment. “You stripped the place bare before I came.”
“I wanted you here,” he whispered.
“Why?”
How the hell to answer? From the moment he'd seen her at Steffie's, he'd wanted her back in his arms, his bed, his life. But he couldn't risk saying that now. Not when her
bags sat near the front door and her gaze remained profoundly impersonal. He'd seen how she dealt with men who wanted more than she could give. “I thought I made that clear,” he said. “I want you to make this house a home. I want your touch here, not someone else's. Your warmth. Your magic.”
“You want my professional services,” she translated, as if clearing up any possible misconception his words might create. “So you felt justified in...withholding the truth?”
He felt a flush rise beneath his skin. He had hated lying to her. And he hated defending the lie, even though his defense was God's honest truth. “I didn't think you'd come if you knew I'd had the place decorated. You'd already hesitated to accept my investment offer, and questioned my motives for making it. Besides if you
had
accepted the job knowing that I'd recently bought almost everything in the house, you wouldn't have felt free to disregard it all and start over. I took that obstacle out of our path.”
She stared at him and the silence somehow became personal. “Did you conspire with Steffie, Tamika and B.J. to keep me from my clinic appointment?”
Utter dismay washed through him. She'd obviously talked to one of them. He knew he should have forced Steffie and her cohorts out of his room before they'd embroiled him in their discussion. They probably did believe that he'd conspired with them. But he hadn't. His investment offer and everything that followed had come straight from his own devious mind...and heart. He'd intended to keep Laura from that clinic appointment the moment he'd learned of it. No one else's input had affected him in the least. “I've never âconspired' with anybody.”
“Are you saying that you were not trying to stop me from pursuing my plans with Fletcher?”
He swallowed a frustrated curse. He wouldn't lie to her
again, ever. But he couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't tell her he loved her, that the prospect of her having a baby and raising a child with another man nearly tore him apart. He had to act with caution, extreme caution, if he didn't want to lose all chance of forging a permanent bond with her. Of sharing a lifetime of intimate moments. Of finding a back door to her heart.