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The Manning Brides: Marriage of Inconvenience / Stand-In Wife
Debbie Macomber


Perfect for fans of Maeve Binchy' - CandisJamie Warren’s biological clock is ticking. Given her single status she’s checked out different options, but every path has a dead end. There is one hope – her tall, dark, gorgeous best friend Rich Manning. Much to her surprise he says he’ll help, but has one unexpected condition – they’re legally married before the baby is born…Rich’s brother Paul is having a tough time. His wife recently passed away, leaving him devastated and with three children under four. So when Diane’s sister, Leah, arrives every night to take care of the dinner, she saves him from the verge of collapse. When she quits her job and moves in, comfort becomes something else… Will grief be allowed to turn to happiness? Make time for friends. Make time for Debbie Macomber.












Make time for friends. Make time for Debbie Macomber.


CEDAR COVE

16 Lighthouse Road

204 Rosewood Lane

311 Pelican Court

44 Cranberry Point

50 Harbor Street

6 Rainier Drive

74 Seaside Avenue

8 Sandpiper Way

92 Pacific Boulevard



BLOSSOM STREET

The Shop on Blossom Street

A Good Yarn

Susannah’s Garden

(previously published as Old Boyfriends)

Back on Blossom Street

(previously published as Wednesdays at Four)

Twenty Wishes

Summer on Blossom Street

Hannah’s List

A Turn in the Road

Thursdays at Eight



Christmas in Seattle

Falling for Christmas

A Mother’s Gift

Angels at Christmas



The Manning Sisters

The Manning Brides

The Manning Grooms


Praise forNew York Timesbestselling author

Debbie Macomber

‘Debbie Macomber is a skilled storyteller and a sure-buy with readers’

—Publishers Weekly

‘Just what the doctor ordered for that feel-good factor’

—Sunday Express on Hannah’s List

‘A charming and touching tale of love, loss and friendship’

—Closer magazine on Hannah’s List

‘Another touching read from Macomber’

—OK! magazine on Susannah’s Garden

‘An emotional, heart-warming and highly enjoyable read’

—Closer magazine on Thursdays at Eight

‘She’s sold seventy million books and this is another heart-tugger’

—Evening Telegraph on A Turn in the Road

‘Debbie Macomber’s books have such a lovely feel-good factor to them’

—lovereading


The Manning Brides



Debbie Macomber



Rich’s Story

Marriage of Inconvenience



Paul’s Story

Stand-In Wife
















www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)




About the Author


DEBBIE MACOMBER is a number one New York Times bestselling author. Her recent books include 44 Cranberry Point, 50 Harbor Way, 6 Rainier Drive, and Hannah’s List. She has become a leading voice in women’s fiction worldwide and her work has appeared on every major bestseller list. There are more than one hundred million copies of her books in print. For more information on Debbie and her books, visit www.DebbieMacomber.com.


Rich’s Story

in

Marriage of Inconvenience


To Yakima’s Iron Maidens:

Cheryl Nixon, Ellen Bartelli, Joyce Falcon,

Jill Seshiki, Faye and Victoria Ives




One


“I’m so stupid,” Jamie Warren wailed, tossing the crumpled tissue over her shoulder. Rich Manning, who was sitting across the kitchen table from her, held out a fresh one. “I trusted Tony, and he’s nothing more than a … jerk.”

She yanked the tissue from Rich’s hand and ingloriously blew her nose. That tissue took the same path as the previous one. “I feel like the biggest fool who ever lived.”

“It’s Tony who’s the fool.”

“Oh, right. Then why am I the one sitting here crying my eyes out?” Jamie really didn’t expect him to answer. Calling Rich at an ungodly hour, sobbing out her tale of woe, wasn’t the most considerate thing she’d ever done, but she had to talk to someone and he was the first person who’d come to mind.

He was the kind of friend she felt comfortable calling in the middle of the night. The kind of friend who’d immediately drive over if she needed sympathy or consolation. They’d been close ever since they’d worked together on their yearbook in high school. Although they didn’t see each other often, Jamie had always felt their relationship was special.

“At least crying’s better than getting drunk, which is what I did when I found out Pamela was cheating on me,” Rich admitted with a wry twist of his mouth. He got up and poured them each another cup of coffee.

“You haven’t seen her since, have you?”

“Sure, I have. I wouldn’t want her to think I was jealous.”

Despite everything, Jamie laughed. “You’re still dating her? Even after you learned she was seeing another guy behind your back?”

Rich shrugged carelessly, as though the entire situation was of little consequence, something Jamie knew not to be the case. Although he’d been devastated, he’d worn a nonchalant facade. He might’ve fooled everyone else, but not Jamie. His flippant attitude couldn’t camouflage the pain.

“I took her to a movie a couple of times,” Rich continued. “I played it cool. But as far as I’m concerned, it was over the minute I heard about that other guy.”

“It’s over with me and Tony, too,” Jamie murmured. Just saying the words produced a painful tightening in her chest. She was truly in love with Tony and had been for nearly a year. They’d often talked about getting married and raising a family together. Jamie wanted children so badly. The weekend before, they’d gone shopping for engagement rings. Her mother, who was crazy about him, had been thrilled. Since Jamie was over thirty her mom tended to worry about her marriage prospects, but even she said that waiting for a man like Tony Sanchez had been time well spent. Sharing the bad news with her widowed mother had been almost as upsetting as learning about the betrayal itself.

“You’re sure the other woman’s baby is his?” Rich asked, reaching for her hand. “She could be stirring up trouble.”

“He didn’t bother to deny it.” In the beginning, Jamie had hoped the woman was lying. She’d searched Tony’s face, praying it was all some malicious joke. His beautiful dark eyes had turned defensive, but gradually the regret, the doubt, had shown, and he’d slid his gaze away from hers. It had been a mistake, he’d told her, a momentary slip in judgment. A one-night fling that meant nothing. He felt terrible about it and promised nothing like this would ever happen again.

Tony was cheating on her before they were even married, and Jamie didn’t need a crystal ball to know that pattern would almost certainly continue.

“This isn’t the first time,” she admitted, biting her lower lip to control the trembling. “Margie, in New Accounts, mentioned seeing Tony with a blonde a month or so ago. He’d told me he was out of town and I … I was sure it was just a case of mistaken identity. I should’ve known then.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Rich said, bending to brush a wisp of dark brown hair from her temple. “There were plenty of signs that Pamela was playing me for a fool, too, but I was so taken with her—”

“Bust line. Which was always your primary interest.”

“That’s probably why I never dated you,” he countered, grinning.

Jamie smiled. The joke was an old one between them. When they’d first been assigned to work together on the yearbook, Rich had been a popular football player and she’d been a nondescript bookworm. They’d clashed constantly. One day, after a particularly nasty confrontation, she’d shouted that if she had a bigger bust, he might actually listen to her. Rich had gone speechless, then he’d started to laugh. The laughter had broken the ice between them and they’d been friends ever since. The best of friends.

“I hear there’s help in the form of surgery,” he teased, leveling his gaze at her chest.

“Oh, honestly.” Her breasts weren’t that small, but it was comfortable and easy to fall into their old banter. Focusing on something other than what a mistake Tony had turned out to be provided her with a good—if momentary—distraction. She’d wasted an entire year of her life on him. An entire year!

Rich reached for his coffee, then leaned back in the chair and sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if anyone’s faithful anymore.”

“I’m the last person you should be asking that,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She didn’t blame Rich for having doubts. Relationships all around her seemed to be failing. Friends, whose marriages had appeared strong and secure, were divorcing. At work affairs were rampant. Casual sex. Jamie was sick of it all.

“When Mark Brooks cheated on my sister Taylor, she took that teaching position in another state,” Rich went on to say. “You know, I never much liked Mark. From the first I felt there was something off about him. I wish I’d spoken to Taylor about it.”

“I felt so bad for her.”

“The whole family was worried. Then she moved to the backwoods of Montana and a few months later, she married Russ Palmer. Everyone was sure she’d made a terrible mistake, marrying a cowpoke on the rebound, but I’ve never seen her happier. And now Christy’s married to Cody Franklin.”

“Christy’s married to whom?”

“The Custer County sheriff. She’s living in Montana, too.”

“But I thought she was engaged to James Wilkens! Good grief, I was at her engagement party just a few months ago.”

“It’s a long story, but James is out of the picture.”

“Christy dumped James?” It was hard to believe. Jamie had assumed they were perfect for each other. They’d acted like the ideal couple at the engagement party, sipping champagne and discussing wedding dates with their families.

Rich chuckled. “If you’re surprised by that, wait until you hear this. While Christy was still engaged to James, she was married to Cody.”

Jamie was shocked. She didn’t know Rich’s youngest sister well, but she would never have imagined Christy doing anything so underhanded. “I am surprised.”

“There were mitigating circumstances and it’s not as bad as it sounds, but Christy is yet another example of how fickle women can be.”

“Women?” Jamie protested. “Men are notoriously untrustworthy—they always have been.”

It looked as though Rich wanted to argue. He straightened and opened his mouth, then shook his head. Sighing, he drank the last of his coffee. “I’ve begun to think commitment means nothing these days.”

“I hate to be so cynical, but I agree.”

Standing, Rich carried his mug to the kitchen sink. “Are you going to be able to sleep now?”

Jamie nodded, although she wasn’t convinced. However, she’d taken enough of Rich’s time for one night and didn’t want to keep him any longer.

“Liar,” he whispered softly.

Jamie smiled and got up, too. He slipped his arms around her and she laid her cheek against his shoulder. It felt good to be held. Rich’s comfort was that of a loving friend, someone who truly cared about her without the complications of romance or male-female dynamics.

“You’re going to get through this.”

“I know,” she whispered. But she hadn’t been confident of that until she’d talked to Rich. How fortunate she was to have him as her friend. “We both will,” she added.

A sigh rumbled through Rich’s chest. “Don’t you wish life could be as simple now as it was in high school?”

That remark gave Jamie pause. “No,” she finally said, then laughed. “I was so shy back then.”

“Shy?” Rich argued, releasing her enough to cast her a challenging look. “You were a lot of things, Jamie Warren, but shy wasn’t one of them.”

“Maybe not with you.”

“I wish you had been, then you might’ve done things my way without so much arguing.”

“You’re still upset that I didn’t use your picture on the sports page, aren’t you? We’ve been out of high school for thirteen years and you haven’t forgiven me for using that shot of Josh McGinnes instead.”

Rich chuckled. “I could be upset, but I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She led him to the door of her condo. “Seriously, though, I really am grateful you came.”

“Call if you need me?”

She nodded. The worst of it was over. She would pick up the pieces of her life and start again, a little less trusting and a whole lot more wary.

Two months later, Rich was sitting in his office at Boeing when the image of Jamie Warren’s tear-streaked face drifted into his mind. It was as if their conversation had taken place just the night before—even though he’d talked to her two or three times over the holidays, and she’d sounded good. Cheerful, in fact. Certainly in better spirits than he’d been himself.

She hadn’t made any attempt to fool him. Tony had hurt her badly. From what she’d said, he’d made several attempts to resume their engagement, but she’d rejected the idea in no uncertain terms. It was plain to Rich that Tony Sanchez didn’t really know Jamie Warren. The woman was stubborn enough to impress a mule. Once she made up her mind, that was it. Oh, she appeared docile and easygoing, but Rich had collided with that stubborn streak of hers a time or two and come away battered and bruised.

It bothered Rich that Jamie had never married. She’d always loved children, and he’d fully expected her to have a passel of kids by now.

Most men, he realized, passed Jamie over without a second glance. That bothered him even more.

The problem, not that he’d call it a problem, was that she didn’t possess the looks of a beauty queen. She wasn’t plain, nor was she unappealing. She was just—he hated to admit it—ordinary. Generally, there was one thing or other that stood out in a woman. A flawless face. Cascades of shining hair, blond or gold or black … Jamie’s wasn’t blond and it wasn’t brunette but somewhere in between. And it wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either. Some women had eyes that could pierce a man’s soul. Jamie had brown eyes. Regular brown eyes. Not dark or seductive or anything else, just brown eyes. Nice, but average.

She was about five-five, and a little on the thin side. Giving the matter some consideration, Rich noted that there didn’t seem to be any distinguishing curves on her. Not her hips, and certainly not her breasts. He could be mistaken of course, since he hadn’t really looked at her that way…. To be honest, he’d never looked at her in any way other than as a friend.

She didn’t have a body that would stop traffic. The thing was, a woman could have an ordinary face, but if she had curves, men fell all over themselves. Rich hated to admit something so derogatory about his fellow men, but he felt it was true.

What few took the time to see was Jamie’s warm heart and generous spirit. He’d never known a more giving woman. What she’d said about being shy was true, even though he’d denied it. Yet she had spunk and she had spirit. Enough to stand up to him, which was no easy thing.

Pushing against the edge of his desk, Rich rolled back his chair and stood up. He headed down the hallway with determination.

“Bill,” he said, striding purposefully into his friend’s office. “Got a minute?”

“What’s up?”

Rich had never played the role of matchmaker before, and he wasn’t sure where to start. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh.” Bill didn’t look too enthusiastic.

“A friend of mine.”

“Widowed or divorced?”

“Single.”

Bill’s brows arched toward his receding hairline. “You mean a leftover girl.”

Rich wasn’t comfortable thinking of Jamie as leftover, but this wasn’t the time to argue. “We went to high school together.”

“High school? Exactly how old is she?”

“Thirty-one.” Her birthday wasn’t until April. Their birthdays were both in April, and Jamie loved to point out that she was a whole week older.

“She’s never been married?” Bill asked, his voice rising suspiciously. “What’s the matter with her?”

“Nothing. She’s one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.”

Bill reached for his In basket and took out a file, flipping it open. “I can’t tell you how many times friends—” he paused and glanced up “—good friends, have set me up. They always claim the girl’s one of the nicest people I’ll ever meet. No thanks, Rich.”

“No thanks? You haven’t heard anything about her.”

“I’ve heard enough.”

“What’s the matter with you?” It was hard to keep the irritation out of his voice. Bill was thirty-five and twenty pounds overweight, not to mention the receding hairline. Frankly, Rich didn’t think his friend had any right to be so damn choosy.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“I thought you wanted to remarry.”

“I do. Someday, when I find the right woman.”

“You might well be passing her over this minute,” Rich said. “I’m not going to lie to you—she’s no Miss America, but she’s not ugly, if that’s what concerns you.”

“Why don’t you ask her out yourself, then?”

The question took Rich by surprise. “Well, because … because it would be like dating one of my sisters.”

Bill released an impatient sigh. “Why haven’t you said anything about her before?”

“She was involved with someone else.”

Bill shook his head emphatically. “Forget it. You’re a good friend and all that, but I’ve been set up too many times in the past few years. Frankly, your friend’s everything I want to avoid in a woman. She’s over thirty and never been married. It doesn’t help that she’s just out of a relationship, either. I’m sorry, Rich, I really am, but I’m not interested.”

Rich found Bill’s attitude downright insulting. Before he could stop himself, before he could analyze his actions, he reached for his wallet.

“What are you doing?” Bill wanted to know when Rich pulled out two tickets.

“These are for the Seahawks play-off game against Green Bay. The scalpers are getting three hundred bucks each for these. If you agree to call Jamie for a date, they’re yours.” His older brother would have his hide for this, but Rich would deal with Jason later.

Bill’s eyes rounded incredulously. “You mean you’re willing to give me two tickets to the Seahawks play-off game if I go out with your friend?”

“Yup.”

Even then Bill hesitated. “One date?”

“One date.” But once his fellow engineer got to know Jamie, he’d realize how special she was. In a few weeks, Bill would be looking for ways to repay him for this. Rich would keep that thought in mind when he told Jason he’d given away their play-off tickets.

“Someplace nice, too. No pizza in a bowling alley, understand?”

Bill’s hand closed over the tickets. “Dinner at the Space Needle followed by an evening at the ballet.”

“Good. Just don’t ever let Jamie know about this.”

Bill laughed. “Do I look that stupid?”

Rich didn’t reply, but in his opinion, any man who’d turn down the opportunity to meet Jamie Warren wasn’t exactly a candidate for Mensa.

“Here’s her phone number,” he said, writing it on a slip of paper. “I’ll give her a call, clear the way, but the rest is up to you.”

“No problem,” Bill said, pocketing the tickets.

Rich felt downright noble as he returned to his own office. Jamie was one hell of a woman and it was about time someone figured that out. Bill Hastings wasn’t nearly good enough for her, but he was an amiable guy. Without too much trouble Rich could picture Bill and Jamie a few years down the road, raising two or three kids.

He felt good about that, better than he’d felt about anything in quite a while.

That evening, Rich went to Jason’s apartment on his way home and was relieved to find his brother was out. That meant he could delay telling him what had become of the play-off tickets. It was definitely something he had to do in person, he told himself.

After killing an hour or two at his own apartment, Rich decided to drive over to Jamie’s. He rang her bell and waited. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might not be home. He was ready to turn away when he heard activity on the other side.

“Who is it?” she called.

“The big bad wolf.”

The sound of her laugh was followed by the click of the lock. She opened the door and Rich saw that he must have gotten her out of the tub. She’d hastily donned a white terrycloth robe that clung to her damp skin.

“Rich,” she said, surprise elevating her voice, “what are you doing here?” As she spoke, she finished knotting the belt around her waist.

The robe fell open below that, revealing a glimpse of thigh. Rich was having trouble taking his eyes off it and didn’t answer right away. His gaze followed a natural progression downward, and he was momentarily astounded to see what long shapely legs she had. Funny, he’d never noticed them before. He grinned, thinking Bill was in for a very pleasant shock.

“Go ahead and finish your bath,” he said casually, walking into her kitchen. “I’ll make myself at home while I wait.”

“I’m almost done.”

“Take your time,” he called out. He stuck his head inside the refrigerator and helped himself to an apple. He’d just taken his last bite when Jamie returned. As best he could tell, she’d run a brush through her hair and put on slippers. But that was it. The robe rode over her slender hips like a second skin.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Generally he went out on Fridays, but there wasn’t anything he particularly felt like doing that evening.

“Got anything in mind?”

“A movie. I’ll even let you choose.”

“I suppose you’re going to make me pay my own way?”

“I might.” He grinned, pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. The suggestion that they attend a movie had been as much of a surprise to him as it obviously was to Jamie. As much of a surprise as offering Bill the play-off tickets …

Actually, it was a damn good idea. This way he could lead naturally, casually, into the subject of Bill. The last thing he wanted Jamie to think was that he’d arranged anything.

The movie was indeed a stroke of genius, Rich decided as they drove to the theater. He’d always enjoyed Jamie’s company and never more so than now. An evening with her was an escape from the games and pretenses involved in taking out someone new—and it was exactly what he needed to settle his nerves. He didn’t like to say much, particularly to his family, but Pamela had hurt him badly. He no longer trusted his judgment when it came to women. Oh, he dated. Often. But he was tired of all the games. Pamela hadn’t just broken his heart; the damage she’d inflicted went deeper than that. She’d caused him to doubt himself.

Rich pulled into a movie complex in the Seattle suburbs, close to Jamie’s condominium. He bought their tickets, but she insisted on buying the popcorn and the chocolate-covered raisins.

He was just thinking how nice it was to be with a woman who wasn’t constantly worrying about her weight when she leaned over and whispered, “You ate more than your share of the raisins.”

“Do you want me to buy more?”

“No. Just remember you owe me.”

It took him several minutes to realize he had no reason to be grinning the way he was, especially since the film was actually quite serious.

“We don’t do this often enough,” Rich said as they left the cinema two hours later. He meant it, too. He’d been at loose ends for a couple of months but hadn’t thought about contacting Jamie. Now he wondered why.

“No, we don’t,” she agreed, buttoning her coat. She wore jeans and a pale pink sweater. The color looked good on her. He was about to say as much when he remembered the reason for his impromptu visit.

“How about a cup of coffee?” he suggested, linking his arm with hers. There was a coffee shop in the same complex as the theater, and he steered them in that direction.

He waited until they were seated and looking over their menus before he brought up the subject of Bill. “There’s someone at work I’d like you to meet.”

Jamie didn’t raise her eyes from the menu. “Who?”

“Bill Hastings. You’ll like him.”

“Is he tall, dark and handsome?”

“Yes. No and no.”

“Sounds like my kind of man,” she joked, setting aside the menu. The waitress filled their mugs with coffee and Jamie stirred in a liberal measure of cream. “From everything I’ve heard, it’s best to avoid the handsome ones.”

“Oh?” He could guess what was coming. He wasn’t conceited, but Rich knew he was easy on the eyes—a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed from the time he was in his early teens. Rich had never lacked for female attention, some he’d sought and some he hadn’t.

“Yes,” she said. “The handsome ones can’t be trusted.”

“Who says?” Rich demanded, feigning outrage.

“Everyone,” Jamie returned without a pause. “They’re too impressed with themselves. Or so I hear.”

Rich chuckled and, motioning for the waitress, ordered a chef’s salad. He felt like having a decent meal for the first time in weeks. He didn’t even complain when Jamie stole his olives, claiming it was the least he could do for hogging the chocolate-covered raisins.

Tuesday morning, Bill marched into Rich’s office, pulled out a chair and plunked himself down. His face was creased with a heavy frown. “It didn’t work.”

Rich tried to figure out which project Bill was referring to and came up blank. They were both part of an engineering team working on a Boeing defense contract. Rich had volunteered for this job, knowing it would entail plenty of overtime hours. The challenge was something he needed at this point in his career—and his life.

“What do you mean?” he asked Bill.

“She turned me down flat.”

Bill couldn’t possibly be talking about Jamie. He’d paved the way for him! He’d managed to casually drop his name into the conversation at least three times. Enough to pique her curiosity, but not so often that she’d suspect he was setting them up.

“She turned you down?” Rich echoed, still unable to believe it. “Obviously you didn’t try all that hard.”

“If I’d tried any harder, I would’ve been arrested,” Bill muttered.

“What the hell did you say to her?”

“Nothing. I called her Saturday afternoon, just like you suggested. I mentioned your name right off and told her we worked together and have for several years. I wanted her to feel comfortable talking to me.” He hesitated as though he was still trying to understand what had gone wrong.

“Then what happened?” Rich could feel himself losing patience. He’d risked his brother’s wrath by giving up those tickets and he wasn’t about to let Bill off so easily.

“That’s just it. Nothing happened. We must’ve talked for ten or fifteen minutes and you’re right—she sounds nice. The more we talked, the more I realized I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. She said you two were on the yearbook staff together…. She even told me a few insider secrets about your glorious football days.”

“What the hell were you doing talking about me?” Rich demanded.

“I was establishing common ground.”

Rich brought one hand to his mouth in an effort to hide his irritation. “Go on.”

“There’s not much more to tell. After several minutes of chitchat, I asked her out to dinner. Honest, Rich, I was beginning to look forward to meeting her. I couldn’t have been more shocked when she turned me down.”

“What did she say?”

“Not much,” Bill admitted, his frown deepening. “Just that she’d given up dating and although she was sure I was a perfectly fine guy, she wasn’t interested.”

“You didn’t take that sitting down, did you?”

“Hell, no. I sent her a dozen roses Monday morning, hoping that would convince her. Red roses, expensive ones. I didn’t get them in any grocery store, either. These were flower shop roses, top quality.”

“And?”

“That didn’t do it, either. She phoned and thanked me, but said she still wasn’t interested. Said she felt bad that I’d gone to the expense of sending her flowers, though.”

Rich muttered under his breath. Bill had just encountered that stubborn pride of hers. Rich knew from experience that once she’d made up her mind, nothing was going to change it. Not flowers, not arguments, nothing.

Bill sighed unhappily. “You aren’t going to make me return the Seahawks tickets, are you?” he asked.




Two


Jamie was sitting at her kitchen table, reading the application from the adoption agency, when the doorbell rang. A long blast was immediately followed by three short, impatient ones. By the time she’d stood and walked to the door, whoever was on the other side was knocking loudly.

She checked the peephole. Rich. And from the look of him, he was furious. Unbolting the lock, she opened the door.

Without a word, he marched into the center of her living room, hands deep in the pockets of his full-length winter coat. Damn, but the man was attractive, Jamie noted, not for the first time. Much too handsome for his own good. His blue eyes were flashing, which only added to his appeal—even if they were flashing with annoyance, not laughter or warmth.

“You turned down Bill Hastings’s dinner invitation and I want to know why,” he said without preamble.

Jamie sighed. She should’ve realized Rich would be upset about that. He’d obviously gone to a lot of trouble to arrange the date and even more trying to conceal it from her. The seemingly impromptu visit Friday night, the movie and coffee afterward, had all led up to his singing Bill Hastings’s praises. He’d listed Bill’s apparently limitless virtues at length and actually seemed to think he was being subtle about setting her up.

To be fair, she’d enjoyed talking to Bill. He’d seemed cordial enough, and he had sent her the roses, which really were lovely. But he hadn’t said or done anything to change her mind. It did seem rather harsh to turn him down sight unseen, but she was saving them both future heartbreak and disappointment. Bill accepted her decision with good grace, but that clearly wasn’t the case with Rich.

“Well?” Rich demanded. He walked around her couch, as though standing still was impossible, but if he didn’t stop circling it soon, he was going to make her dizzy.

“He sounds very nice.”

“The guy’s perfect for you,” Rich argued, gesturing toward her. “I match the two of you up and then you turn him down. I can’t believe you refused to even meet him!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

“One date,” he cried, waving his index finger at her. “What possible harm could there be in one lousy dinner date?”

“None, I’m sure,” she said calmly. “Listen, do you intend to stay long enough to take off your coat, or are you just dropping in to argue with me on your way to someplace else?”

“Are you going to let Tony do this to you?” he challenged, disregarding her question. He plowed his fingers through his hair, something he’d done often today if the grooves along the side of his head were any indication.

“Tony has very little to do with this.” Rather than discuss the man who’d wounded her so deeply, Jamie moved into the kitchen and poured them glasses of iced tea, which gave her a few minutes to compose her thoughts.

“Obviously Tony has everything to do with this, otherwise you wouldn’t have told Bill you’d given up dating. Which, by the way, is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair.

“Really?” Leaning against the kitchen counter, she added sugar and ice to her glass, stirred, then sipped from her tea. Rich ignored the glass she’d poured him.

“It’s not true, is it?”

He glared at Jamie as though he expected her to deny everything. But she couldn’t see any reason to lie. “As a matter of fact it is.”

Rich’s jaw sagged open. “Why?”

“You really need to ask?” Jamie said with a light laugh.

“How can you deny that Tony’s responsible for this?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “In part he is, but this decision isn’t solely due to what happened with him. It’s just one more disappointment. If anything, I’m grateful I found out what kind of man Tony is before we were married.”

The timer on her oven dinged. Setting aside her tea, Jamie reached for a pot holder and took out a bubbling chicken potpie. The recipe was one she’d come across in a women’s magazine and it had looked delicious. True, the meal was large enough to feed a family of four, but she intended to freeze half of it.

“Have you had dinner? Would you like to join me?” She extended the invitation casually as she set the steaming pie on top of the stove to cool.

“No,” Rich answered starkly. “I’m not hungry.”

“It seems to me you’ve lost weight. Have you?”

“I’m not here to discuss my weight,” he barked, “which hasn’t changed since high school, I might add.”

His attitude was slightly defensive, but Jamie decided to ignore it. He had lost weight; she’d noticed it soon after he’d broken off the relationship with Pamela. Jamie had never met the other woman and it was all she could do to think civilly of her. If anyone was ever a fool, it was Rich’s former girlfriend.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Rich said. His voice had lowered and he seemed less persistent now. Jamie suspected he’d spent the day seething over her decision not to date his friend.

“Which question didn’t I answer?” she asked, putting the pot holder back in the top drawer.

“What made you decide to give up dating?”

“Oh.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. Rich did, too. “Well, it wasn’t something I did lightly, trust me. It was a gradual decision made over the past few months. I honestly feel it’s the right one for me. I feel better than I have in years.” She tried to reassure him with a warm smile. He was frowning at her as though he wanted to argue. Rich had always been passionate when it came to people he cared about. “I’m nearly thirty-two years old,” she added.

“So?”

“So,” she said with a laugh, “there aren’t many eligible men left for me.”

“What about Bill Hastings? He’s eligible.”

“Divorced, right?”

“Right. But what’s that got to do with anything?”

He wasn’t going to like her answer, but Jamie wouldn’t be less than honest. “I’ve dated plenty of divorced men over the years. My experience may not be like anyone else’s, but I’ve discovered that if their wives left them, there’s generally a damn good reason. And if there isn’t, they’re so traumatized by the divorce they’ve become emotional cripples.”

“That’s ridiculous! And furthermore, it’s not fair.”

“I’m sure there are exceptions. I just haven’t found any.”

“In other words, you wouldn’t date Bill because he’s divorced.”

“Not … exactly. It’s more than that. I don’t want to date anyone right now, divorced or not.”

“What about single men? You’re only thirty-one, for heaven’s sake. There are lots of single men out there who’d give anything to meet a woman like you.”

Jamie had to swallow a sarcastic reply. If there were as many eligible single men as Rich seemed to think, she certainly hadn’t met them. “Obviously I haven’t had much luck with that group, either,” she said. “I hate to burst your bubble here, but single men aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. If a man’s in his thirties and not married, there’s usually a reason for it. Besides, single men over thirty are so set in their ways, they have problems adjusting to the natural give-and-take of a healthy relationship.”

“That’s downright insulting.”

“I don’t mean it to be.” She stood up to get two plates. “You’re having dinner with me, right?”

He nodded.

“I’m not going to lie to you and claim Tony had nothing to do with this,” she went on. “He hurt me, and it took me weeks to work through the pain. As strange as it may seem, I’m actually grateful for what Tony taught me. He helped me reach some sound, honest decisions about my life.”

“If this no-dating stand of yours is one of them, then I’d do some rethinking if I were you.” Rich opened the silverware drawer and took out two knives and forks. Without glancing at the adoption papers, he placed them to one side and had the table set by the time she brought over their plates. Jamie couldn’t help being pleased that he’d agreed to join her for dinner.

“My biggest, and probably most significant realization,” she said while smoothing the napkin across her lap, “was that I like my life the way it is. I don’t need a man to feel complete.”

Several minutes passed before Rich spoke. “That sounds healthy, but to lock the door on any chance of a relationship—”

“I’m not locking the door,” she interrupted, eager to correct that impression. “I’m just not looking for one. I’ve wasted years trying to fulfill my dream of being married and raising children.”

Rich took a bite of the chicken potpie and raised his eyebrows. “Hey, this is great.”

“Thank you.” She tried it herself and was satisfied with her culinary efforts. Taking the time to cook real meals instead of throwing together a sandwich or resorting to frozen entrées had been another decision she’d reached. It might seem silly, but cooking gave her a feeling of permanence and purpose. She was doing something healthy for herself, and she felt good about it.

“Everything you’ve said makes sense,” Rich admitted reluctantly.

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“It’s just that I’ve always pictured you with kids….”

“I’ve got that covered,” she said enthusiastically, removing the top sheet of the papers Rich had stacked on the other side of the table. “I intend to adopt.”

“I know they let single people adopt children now,” he said, “but two-parent families are better for kids.”

“Ideally, yes,” Jamie agreed. “But sometimes there’s no alternative. Anyway, from what I’ve read, I don’t think it’s going to be easy or anytime soon, especially if I want a newborn.”

“Which you do?”

Jamie nodded. If she was only going to be a mother once, then she wanted as much of the experience as she could have, including midnight feedings, teething and changing diapers. “I have an appointment with a counselor at an adoption agency tomorrow afternoon. I haven’t been this excited about anything in years.”

“I’ll bet you haven’t told your mother.”

Jamie rolled her eyes at the thought. “It’s better if I don’t say anything, at least for now. Mom’s wonderful, but she’d never understand this.”

Rich chuckled, but as the laughter drained from his features, his eyes took on a faraway look. “You know what?”

“What?” she asked softly.

“I’ve basically come to the same conclusion about dating. I’m sick to death of the games and women whose only interest is getting me in the sack. I never knew women could be so aggressive.”

Intrigued, Jamie could only nod. She would never have believed Rich was experiencing the same difficulties she had. For years she’d been expecting him to marry, but she’d never felt comfortable enough to ask why he hadn’t.

“I’ve spent ten years looking for a woman who believes love lasts longer than an hour,” he added grimly. “As for commitment and honesty, I don’t think they exist anymore. Or if they do, then I can’t seem to find anyone who believes in them. After Pamela cheated on me I realized I’m a self-reliant adult—and if I never married, it wouldn’t make my life any less worthwhile.”

“That’s how I feel,” Jamie said. “I just never thought that—”

“I did, too,” he finished for her.

“Exactly.”

They exchanged a look—a look wrought with understanding and empathy. They’d been friends for years and Jamie had never known how much they actually had in common.

“I had no idea it was happening to you, too,” she whispered. She felt as though she was deprived of oxygen. Everything in the kitchen seemed to fade from view. Everything except Rich. If anything, his dark good looks came into sharper focus. As she had a thousand times before, Jamie acknowledged how very handsome Rich Manning was. But there was much more there, more than she’d ever noticed. This was a man of character and strength. A man of substance. He looked older; the years had marked their passage. There were wrinkles on his forehead and shadows beneath his eyes. The well-defined angles of his cheeks as well as the lines bracketing his mouth only made his face more masculine, more appealing.

The silence between them stretched to embarrassing lengths. It was Jamie who pulled her eyes away first. With a weak smile, she picked up her fork and managed to swallow a bite of her dinner.

“This turned out well, didn’t it?” she said in a casual voice.

“Excellent.” He seemed equally intent on putting their conversation back on an even keel. He attacked his dinner as though he’d entered a speed-eating competition.

They chatted for several more minutes, teased each other, exchanged the banter that was so familiar to them. Rich insisted on helping her clean up, but as soon as the last dish was put away, he made his excuses and left.

Jamie felt weak afterward. As weak and trembly as the first time she’d stood on the high dive. The feeling wasn’t any more comfortable now than it had been all those years ago.

Hard though he tried over the next few days, Rich couldn’t forget the look he’d shared with Jamie at her kitchen table on Tuesday evening. He’d tried to define it, decipher its meaning. It was the kind of look longtime lovers exchanged. The kind he’d witnessed between Taylor and Russ, as though they didn’t need words to say what was in their hearts.

But he and Jamie had never been lovers. To the best of his knowledge, they’d never even kissed. Really kissed. A peck on the cheek now and then. A friendly hug, perhaps. That was it. Their relationship had always been strictly platonic. It was the way they’d both wanted it. Anything else would have destroyed the special closeness they shared.

Rich shook his head in an effort to banish the disturbing thoughts that had taken up residence there. Until Tuesday, he’d seen Jamie as ordinary. Not anymore.

Still, nothing had changed, not really. At least nothing he could put his finger on. Jamie Warren was the same person she’d always been.

Not so, he corrected. Her eyes had been different.

To think he’d once believed her eyes were an average shade of brown. He’d never seen eyes the precise color of Jamie’s. They were a blend of green and brown; some would call it hazel, he supposed. That night they’d been more green, reminiscent of the mist rising off a moss-covered forest floor….

But it wasn’t her eyes that had intrigued him. It was something more profound than that. Something more baffling, too.

His musing was interrupted by the phone. Rich grabbed the television remote and muted the volume. He didn’t know why he’d bothered to turn it on—from habit, he guessed. For the past hour he hadn’t heard a single word of the local or national news. He’d been too busy analyzing what had happened between him and Jamie.

“Hello,” he answered briskly. Pamela sometimes phoned him, and he braced himself in case it was her.

“Hi,” came the soft feminine voice he recognized immediately as Jamie’s.

“Hi, yourself.” He felt a bit ill at ease, which he’d never experienced with her. It was as though they hadn’t found their stride with each other yet, which made no sense. Perhaps he was taking his cue from Jamie. She didn’t sound quite like herself; she sounded tense, as if it had taken some courage to call him.

“I was just thinking about you.” He probably shouldn’t have admitted that, but it had slipped out.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was going to give you a call later and find out how the appointment with the adoption agency went.”

She paused, and he heard her take a deep breath. “Actually, that’s the reason I’m calling you. Are you busy?”

“Not really. What do you have in mind?”

“Would it be all right if I came by for a few minutes? There’s something I need to talk over with you.”

“Sure, you’re welcome anytime.” He glanced around the apartment to see what kind of shape it was in. Not bad. Not especially good, either, but he’d have time to pick up the newspapers and straighten the cushions.

As it turned out, he had time to wipe down the kitchen counter, as well, and stick his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The best meal he’d had in weeks had been the chicken potpie at Jamie’s place. He didn’t remember her being such an accomplished cook. She certainly seemed full of surprises lately.

Jamie arrived about ten minutes after her phone call. She wore jeans and the same pink sweater she’d had on the night they went to the movies. He was about to tell her how nice she looked, but stopped himself. Curiously, his heart stopped, too. Just a little.

“That didn’t take long,” he said instead.

“No … But we only live four or five miles from each other.”

“Yeah.” He led the way to the sofa and sat down, resting one ankle on the opposite knee and draping his arm along the back. “So, what’s up?”

Jamie sat down, too, but he noticed that she sat on the very edge of the cushion and rubbed her hands nervously down her arms. He wondered if she was cold.

That prompted him to say, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Please,” she said eagerly.

Rich couldn’t shake the impression that she was interested in the coffee more as a delaying tactic than out of any real desire for something to warm her.

He made a pot of coffee, and a few minutes later, brought two steaming mugs into the living room. He had to look around for coasters, but once he found them, he sat down on the recliner across from her and resumed his relaxed pose.

“How’d the appointment with the adoption agency go?” he asked, when she didn’t immediately launch into her reason for the visit. She hadn’t really answered his question earlier.

Her hands cradled the mug and she stared into its depths. “Not very well, I’m afraid. Naturally, the agency prefers to place newborns with established families. Besides, the waiting list is years long, and I don’t feel I have all that time to wait.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” Rich could feel her disappointment.

“If I’m going to have a child, I want to be young enough to enjoy her.”

“Her?”

“Or him,” she amended quickly, briefly glancing his way.

“So what’s next?”

For a long time she didn’t say anything. Rich might have grown impatient with anyone else, but he found himself more tolerant with Jamie. He watched the emotions move across her face and tried to read her thoughts. It was impossible to know what she had on her mind, but whatever it was seemed to burden her.

“You’re going to think I’m a candidate for intensive counseling when I tell you this.”

“Try me.”

“I … I’ve made an appointment with my gynecologist. I want to discuss the possibility of being artificially inseminated.”

Rich was relieved that his mouth wasn’t full of coffee, otherwise he would’ve choked to death. “You’re going to do what?”

Jamie stood abruptly and walked around the back of his recliner. She braced her hands against the sides as she stood behind him. “I know it sounds crazy, but I plan to have a child, and if I can’t adopt, this was the best idea I could come up with.”

“What about checking with another adoption agency?”

“I did. Five others, and the story’s the same. If I want an infant, it’ll mean years on a waiting list. Two of the agencies wouldn’t even talk to me. The others tried to persuade me to become a foster parent with the hope of adopting at some point in the distant future. I want a baby. Is that so wrong?”

“No,” he assured her gently.

“I’m nearly thirty-two years old, and my biological clock is ticking. Not so loud it keeps me awake nights, but loud enough. If I’m going to do this, it’s got to be soon.” Jamie’s eyes filled with tears, but she was too proud and too stubborn to let them fall. Her gaze met his without wavering. Did she regret being honest because it forced her to reveal her deepest secrets?

“What about the father?” he mumured.

“I … I’m not sure. I’ve read everything I could find on the subject, which isn’t all that much. I understand there’s a sperm bank in our area. I don’t know what else to tell you, since I haven’t been to the doctor yet. I’ll have more answers once I’ve had a chance to talk it over with him.”

“I see.” Rich could hardly believe they were even having this discussion. “You’re positive you want to go through with this?” The minute he asked, he knew he’d made a mistake.

Steely determination shone from Jamie’s eyes. “I’m going to do this, Rich, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”

Her warning wasn’t necessary; he was well aware that any attempt to dissuade her would be pointless. “Are you worried about what people might say?” he asked. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

She shrugged. “A little. The biggest hurdle will be my mother, but I’m not too worried. It’s my life. Besides, she’s been after me to have children for years. Of course, she’d prefer it if I were married, but I’ve decided against that.” Her eyes met his again. She seemed nervous, edgy. Rich couldn’t remember Jamie being either. Until tonight.

“Something’s troubling you.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “You’re just about the best friend I have.”

“I’m honored.”

“I have several close girlfriends. I’ve been a maid of honor twice and a bridesmaid three times. But when I found out about Tony, it was you I turned to. You’re the one I felt I could wake up in the middle of the night.”

“I feel the same way about you.”

Her smile was genuine, if a little shaky. “That pleases me more than you know. We’re good friends.”

“Good friends,” Rich echoed. Good enough for him to hand over two fifty-yard-line play-off tickets on the off-chance she might find happiness with Bill Hastings. He’d done it without pause, too.

“I’d do just about anything for you,” she said, eyeing him closely.

Rich didn’t know why he felt that was a leading statement, but he did. The door was wide open for him to echo the sentiment. “You’re special to me, too. Do you mind telling me exactly where this conversation is heading?”

Jamie came around the chair and sat on the sofa again. She leaned forward and rubbed her palms together, as though she was outside in below-freezing temperatures. She seemed more sure of herself now.

“You’re such a handsome guy.”

Rich frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You come from a wonderful family.”

That was true enough. “So?”

“You’re tall. What I wouldn’t give for an extra two inches.”

“Jamie, what the hell are you talking about?”

She stood up, still rubbing her palms. Once more she positioned herself behind his recliner. “I … I was having dinner when it dawned on me exactly what I’d decided to undertake. I want a child and because I do, I’m willing to be subjected to heaven knows what kinds of medical procedures. I don’t care. It’s a small sacrifice, and I’m amenable to whatever it takes. The only aspect of this entire scenario that disturbs me is giving birth to a stranger’s child. A man I’ve never met, never even seen. Then it came to me. There’s one person, a man I admire and trust above all others. It didn’t make sense to go through all this and have a stranger’s baby when … when there’s already someone in my life who’s tall, dark and handsome. Someone with excellent chromosomes who might be willing to contribute to this project.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe she didn’t mean what he thought she meant. Maybe this was all a dream and he’d wake in the morning and have a good laugh. Maybe Jamie wasn’t wrong about the counseling. There seemed to be a hundred maybes in this. Rich didn’t like the answer to a single one of them.

Jamie looked into his eyes and smiled, the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever seen. “I’m asking you to be the sperm donor for my baby.”




Three


“Naturally, I don’t expect you to make a decision tonight,” Jamie added, walking around the recliner and sitting down again. She leaned back and crossed her legs, striking a relaxed pose.

Rich frowned. She sounded so casual, so comfortable with the idea. Mentioning it had obviously demanded courage, but now that her baby plan was out in the open, she seemed completely at ease.

But Rich wasn’t. His thoughts were in chaos.

“I … don’t know … what to say,” he stammered.

“I’m sure the whole thing comes as a shock,” she said. “I wish there was some way I could’ve led up to it with a little more tact, but I couldn’t think how to say it other than flat out. I didn’t want there to be any room for misunderstanding between us.”

Rich was standing now, although he couldn’t remember getting to his feet. “No … this is the best way.” He paced back and forth in front of the coffee table. “A baby,” he muttered, needing to hear himself say it aloud. He was trying to assimilate exactly what it was Jamie had suggested. He paused, waiting to be overwhelmed by objections, but apparently he was too numb to think clearly. Not a single protest occurred to him. Not one.

Questions. There were plenty of those. A few doubts and a whole lot of shock, but no real opposition. Although he’d thought there would be. Should be.

“Our baby,” she said, her smile serene—as if she was already pregnant and counting the days before their child’s birth.

Her attitude, the calm way she was watching him, unnerved Rich more than anything. He stalked into the kitchen, emptied his coffee mug and then refilled it. When he returned, he saw that Jamie was studying him closely.

“Say something.” Her confidence seemed to be shaken, and for his own peace of mind, Rich was relieved to see it. She’d been taking this in stride a little too easily.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted bluntly.

“It sounds preposterous to you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” he nearly shouted. Preposterous was putting it mildly. She was talking about creating a new life, one that would link them forever.

“Why?”

“Why?” He couldn’t believe she’d even ask such a thing. “You want me to father your child. A baby—any baby—is a huge responsibility and—”

“But that responsibility would be mine,” she said quickly, interrupting him. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ask for any support, financially or emotionally.”

That didn’t sit well with Rich, either. He put down his coffee, sank into the chair again and leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his knees. He needed to think but couldn’t seem to form a single coherent thought. “Let me see if I understand this correctly,” he said after a moment. “You don’t want anything from me other than a … biological contribution. I’d father your child, and that’s all.”

“For this to work, you’d—we’d both need to separate ourselves emotionally from the procedure. The baby would technically be yours, but only because of his or her genetic makeup. For all intents and purposes, the pregnancy and the child shouldn’t be any different than if I’d gone to a sperm bank.”

“In other words all you really want from me is my genes.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding emphatically. Her eyes briefly met his, and she appeared to have immediate second thoughts. “I know I’m making it all seem so callous, but that’s not my intention. There’s no one I trust more than you, no one else I feel comfortable approaching with this idea. If the doctor were to line up ten guys—ten strangers—and ask me to choose one of them to father my baby, I’d pick you instead. Knowing you and trusting you means so much to me. We’ve been friends since high school and that adds a whole other dimension to this.”

“I don’t know….”

“I … I considered seducing you.”

This time, Rich was unfortunate enough to be in the process of swallowing a mouthful of coffee. It stuck halfway down his windpipe and completed its course only after a bout of violent coughing.

“Are you all right?” Jamie asked.

“You honestly considered seducing me?” That idea was even more ludicrous than the first one she’d had.

“Briefly,” she admitted. “But sex between us would upset everything, don’t you think? Your friendship’s far too valuable to me to ruin it over something physical.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” So she’d considered luring him into her bed. Jamie Warren was certainly full of surprises this evening.

“I’m … not sure I could’ve done it,” she said as she lowered her gaze to her hands, which were tightly clenched in her lap. “I mean … well, you know what I mean.”

Rich wasn’t convinced he did, but he pretended otherwise and simply nodded.

Jamie reached for her coffee and took one tentative sip. “Do you have any questions? I mean, I’m sure you do, and I want to reassure you in any way I can.”

“Not yet.” He couldn’t seem to think clearly, let alone form sensible questions. “You say you’re not looking for emotional or financial support?”

“Correct.”

“So I’m not supposed to feel anything toward this child?”

Her eyes widened. “I … don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it in those terms. If it would make things easier for you, I could move out of the area after the baby’s born, or … before. Whichever you prefer.”

He didn’t like that strategy at all. “What about our parents?”

“What about them?” She seemed puzzled.

Rich couldn’t speak for Jamie’s mother, but he knew his own, and she’d give him an earful the minute she heard about this craziness. “You don’t expect our parents to accept this sitting down, do you?”

“I don’t plan to tell them.”

He gaped at her. “What do you intend to do? Run off and have the baby and then go home and present our parents with a surprise grandchild?”

“My mother, yes, but not yours. I don’t intend to tell anyone you’re the baby’s father. That’ll be between you and me. No one else needs to know. As far as my mother’s concerned, all I’m going to say is that I was artificially inseminated, but not by whom. That would only complicate matters, don’t you think?”

This didn’t work any better for Rich than Jamie’s other ideas, especially the one about moving away. He rubbed his face, hoping that would help him sort out his thoughts. It didn’t.

“I suppose you’ll want a few days to think this over?” She eyed him speculatively. It was apparent she’d like her answer as quickly as possible, but that was just too bad. This was too important a decision to be made quickly. He needed to weigh all the concerns carefully, think through the pros and cons.

He found the whole situation unsettling. Sure he’d like to be a father, but he’d prefer that it happened in the traditional way. His first instinct was to reject her suggestion outright, but Jamie was staring at him with those big, round eyes of hers, obviously doing her best not to sway him. To his regret, Rich discovered that he couldn’t turn down her request without at least considering it. Their friendship was worth that much.

“Give me a week,” he said after a strained minute or two.

“A week,” she repeated slowly. “Should I call you or will you call me?”

“I’ll call you.”

She nodded and stood up to leave, pausing at the front door. “Before I go, there’s one more thing I’d like to say.”

“Yes?”

“I … I truly believe we’d have a beautiful child, but if it isn’t meant to be, then I can accept your decision. I’m going to have a baby. I’d just rather it was yours than some stranger’s.” With that, she was out the door.

After she’d left, Rich resumed pacing, unable to stand still. His thoughts were a tangle of confused reactions, and part of him was laughing at the absurdity of Jamie’s proposition.

Their baby! Their baby?

They’d never even kissed, and she was proposing they create a child together.

She’d told him she expected nothing from him, other than the pregnancy. Although he was sure she hadn’t meant to sound so cold and calculating, that was exactly what Rich felt. She’d made it seem so … impersonal. Even that parting shot about having a beautiful child got to him. With those hazel-green eyes of hers and his height … He forcefully pushed the idea from his head.

Although he’d asked for time to make his decision, Rich already knew what his answer would be.

He wanted no part of this craziness.

Jamie made a genuine effort not to think about Rich for the next few days. She’d stated her case, explained what needed to be explained without resorting to emotions.

A hundred times since their talk, she’d thought of all the things she might’ve said to get him to agree….

Her mind was muddled with regrets. Rich was a good friend. Too good to risk ruining their relationship because she was determined to have a child.

She’d insulted him. She’d known, from his stunned look, that his immediate instinct had been to say no. Good grief, who wouldn’t? It was only because of their friendship that he’d been courteous enough to consider her proposal.

Not for the first time, Jamie repressed the urge to call him and withdraw the suggestion. With everything in her, she wished she hadn’t said a word. And in the same instant she prayed with all her heart, with all her being, that he’d say yes.

If only she’d approached him differently.

If only she’d told him how much his child would mean to her, how she’d love that child her whole life.

If only she’d assured him what a good mother she was going to be.

If only …

Rich had made plans to go to his brother Jason’s apartment on Sunday afternoon to watch the Seahawks football game. Since Rich had given Bill Hastings their fifty-yard-line tickets, the least Rich thought he could do was bring the beer.

Close to one, nearly an hour late, Rich arrived at his brother’s with a six-pack of Jason’s favorite beer in one hand and a sack full of junk food in the other.

“About time you got here,” Jason muttered when he opened the front door. “The kick-off’s in less than five minutes.”

“I brought a peace offering,” Rich announced, holding up the six-pack. It wasn’t like him to be late, and he half expected an interrogation from his brother. He was grateful when it looked as though he was going to escape that. If Jason did grill him, Rich didn’t know what he’d say. Certainly not the truth. That he’d been so consumed with indecision over Jamie’s proposal, he’d lost track of the time.

“It’s going to take a whole lot more than a few beers to make up for the loss of those tickets, little brother,” Jason complained as he led Rich to the sofa. “Last I heard, scalpers were getting three hundred bucks for this game, and my brother gave ours away.” There was more than a touch of sarcasm in Jason’s voice. “I still don’t understand how Bill Hastings ended up getting our tickets.”

Rich had been purposely vague about the exchange. “He did me a favor.”

“You couldn’t have bought him dinner?”

“No.” It wouldn’t help to tell Jason that the big favor Bill was supposed to have done him had fallen through.

Damn, Jamie was stubborn. Stubborn enough to go ahead and have her baby without him.

That stopped him in his tracks. It was her decision. What bothered Rich, what caught him so completely by surprise, was the rush of resentment he felt at the thought of her having another man’s child.

“Hey, you all right?” Jason asked, claiming the seat next to him on the overstuffed sofa.

“Of course I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, but you got this funny look all of a sudden.”

Rich dropped his gaze to the can of beer he clutched in his hand. He offered his brother a weak smile and then relaxed on the sofa. It was a few minutes before his heart rate returned to normal. But he kept thinking about Jamie. She’d have a stranger’s child. Yes, she would. She’d do it in a second. More than once Rich had collided with that pride of hers, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

She’d do it!

“You ever thought about being a father?” Rich found himself asking his older brother. He attempted to make the question sound casual but didn’t know if he’d succeeded or not.

“Who, me?” Jason teased. “I’m not even married, and frankly I don’t ever plan to be.”

“Why not?” This was news to Rich. Jason dated as often as Rich did—although, come to think of it, Rich might have implied that his social life was more active than it really was. Jason never seemed to lack for gorgeous women. The only time he’d gotten serious, the relationship had turned out badly, but that was years ago.

“I’m not the marrying kind,” Jason said, tearing open a bag of potato chips with his teeth. “All women think about is reforming me. Hell, if I want to kick off my shoes and watch a football game on a Sunday afternoon, I don’t want to feel guilty about it. Most married men are henpecked. I prefer my freedom.”

“So do I,” Rich agreed. Marriage wasn’t for him, either. Or for Jamie. He valued his independence. So did she. Jason apparently felt the same way—marriage was too much trouble.

“If I want to dry my socks in the microwave, there’s no one around to yell at me,” Jason added, then took a deep swallow of his beer.

“You dried your socks in the microwave?”

Jason shrugged. “I forgot to put the load from the washer into the dryer the night before. I needed a pair for work. So it was either that or pop them in the toaster.”

Rich chuckled. That sounded exactly like something his brother would do. Jason was right: A woman would’ve been horrified had she known about his method of drying socks.

For the next ten minutes they were both engrossed in the game. At the commercial break, Jason propped his ankle on his knee and turned to Rich.

“Why’d you bring up this marriage thing?”

“No reason. I was just wondering.”

“What about you?” Jason asked. “Isn’t it time you thought about settling down and fathering a houseful of kids?”

“Me?” Rich asked.

“Yes, you. Mom knows any future Mannings will have to come from you and Paul. She’s thrown up her hands in disgust at me.”

“I don’t think I’ll get married, either.”

Jason’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Why not?”

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“I am. You, Richard Manning, are definitely the marrying kind. Women flock to you.”

Plainly his older brother had an inflated view of Rich’s sexual prowess, and Rich couldn’t see any reason to disillusion him. “True, but not one of them, in all these years, has appealed to me enough to want to marry her.”

“What about Pamela?”

“That woman’s a—” Rich decided not to say it. “Put it this way. We don’t have much in common.”

“I thought you were still seeing her.”

“I do occasionally.” He took a swig of his beer and set it down, then reached for a bowl of popcorn. Leaning back, he rested his feet on the coffee table, crossing his ankles. “This is the life.” He made a point of changing the subject, growing uncomfortable with the topic of marriage, although he’d been the one foolish enough to introduce it.

“It doesn’t get much better than this,” Jason said enthusiastically.

Once again their attention reverted to the television. The Seattle football team, the Seahawks, was playing the Green Bay Packers in a heated contest for the National Football Conference title. The winner would go on to play in the Super Bowl. All of Seattle was excited about the game.

“What about kids?” Rich wanted to kick himself the instant the question left his lips. What the hell was the matter with him? He’d had no intention of talking to Jason about any of this.

“Children?” Jason’s attention didn’t stray from the game. “What about them?”

“If you don’t plan to marry, how do you feel about not having a child of your own?” This bothered Rich the most. He really would like a son or a daughter. Or both.

Jason took a long time answering, as though the question had caught him unprepared. “I don’t know … I hadn’t given children much thought. I guess I’d like a couple of kids someday, but on the other hand, I don’t want to get married in order to have them. But then—” he hesitated “—there’s no need to marry … not these days. We live in an enlightened age, remember?”

“Not marry the woman pregnant with my child?” Rich gave his brother a sour look. “I don’t care what age we live in. We both know better than that. A word of advice—don’t let Mom or Dad ever hear you say such a thing.”

Jason exhaled. “You’re right, that was a stupid idea.” He reached over to the bowl of popcorn Rich was holding and grabbed a handful. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Not telling you?”

“Yeah. There’s something on your mind.”

“I’ll tell you what’s on my mind,” Rich said, picking up his beer. “Football. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re down by seven points and Green Bay’s got the ball on the fifteen-yard line.” He laughed, but his brother didn’t.

“You’re sure?” Jason asked a few minutes later. “The score’s the only thing bothering you?”

“Positive,” Rich assured him, feigning a smile. A man didn’t tell his older brother, especially one who assumed women flocked to him, that he was thinking about becoming a sperm donor.

Six days had passed, and if Rich didn’t call her soon, Jamie was convinced she’d have a nervous breakdown. Every time the phone rang, her heart shot to her throat and she started to tremble like an October leaf.

Rich had made a point of saying he’d be the one to call her, and he’d promised to do so within a week’s time. Nevertheless, the wait was killing her, and each day that passed seemed to increase her anxiety.

She’d just put a casserole in the oven when the doorbell chimed. Jamie’s gaze flew apprehensively toward the door. Even before she answered it, she knew it was Rich.

Inhaling a deep breath, she walked unsteadily across the carpet and opened the door.

“Hello, Jamie.”

“Hi, Rich.”

His eyes refused to meet hers, and her stomach twisted into a tight knot as he entered her home. He removed his coat and hung it in the closet as though he intended to stay for a while. Jamie didn’t know whether she should take encouragement from that or not.

“Dinner’s in the oven. Will you join me?”

He nodded, although she suspected he hadn’t heard what she’d said.

“It’s a new recipe…. I seem to be in a cooking mode lately. Tamale pie—I found the recipe on the back of a cornmeal box. I’ve always liked Mexican food.”

“Me, too.”

“Would you care for some coffee?”

“Sure.”

He followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “I suppose you’re wondering what I’ve decided,” he said when she brought him his coffee.

It was all she could do not to demand he tell her right then and there. Waiting even one more minute seemed too long. She pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. She was so anxious, her hands were trembling and she clasped them in her lap, not wanting to give herself away.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking since the last time we spoke,” he began.

If the lines around his eyes and mouth were any indication, his thoughts had been serious indeed. It didn’t look as though he’d slept much in the past week. For that matter, neither had she.

“I’m sure it hasn’t been an easy decision.”

“No, it hasn’t,” he said pointedly. “Before I say anything else, there are a few things I’d like to get straight. Once I do, you may change your mind.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Jamie said confidently.

His eyes held hers. “Don’t be so sure. First and foremost, I want full parental privileges. This child will be as much a part of me as he or she is of you.” He spoke forcefully, as though he anticipated an argument.

“What … what exactly do you mean by parental privileges?”

“I want a say in how the child will be raised, as much of a say as you. That means when it comes time to choose a preschool, I’ll expect you to confer with me. I don’t want you moving out of the area, either. At least not without me being informed and in full agreement, but I can tell you right now, I won’t agree.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly. The only reason she’d even brought up the subject of moving was to simplify the situation for him. It wasn’t what she wanted at all. “Anything else?”

“I’m just getting started. If we go ahead with this, I want visitation rights.”

“Of course. I have no intention of hiding the child from you.”

“That’s not what I understood earlier,” he said, frowning.

“I … know. I should have thought this through more carefully before I approached you. I’d come up with the idea of you being the baby’s father the same night I talked to you. When I showed up at your place, the idea was only half formed.”

Rich seemed cold and distant. It was almost as if they were negotiating something highly controversial and there was no room for friendliness. No room for personal feelings.

“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?” he asked.

“No … no, just that I hadn’t worked everything out as extensively as I should have before I came to you. It hadn’t dawned on me that you’d care one way or the other about the child. I realize now how insensitive that was of me. I apologize for that, Rich, I really do.”

“Of course I’d care about the child!”

“I know. If you want full visitation rights, and a say in how the child’s brought up, then that’s only fair. I have no objections. None whatsoever.”

“I’m also going to insist you accept child support.”

“But, Rich, that really isn’t necessary. I make a decent wage and—” She stopped abruptly at the way his eyes hardened.

“Then the deal’s off.”

She took a moment to compose herself. “Since that’s clearly an important issue to you,” she said carefully. “I’ll be willing to accept whatever monetary support you deem necessary.”

“Emotional support, as well. I don’t want you walking the floors at night with a colicky baby.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Phone me.”

He was making everything so much more complicated than it needed to be. “You don’t expect me to call you over every little thing, do you?”

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “I want all the arrangements between us clear as glass before the blessed event. We’ll share the responsibilities.”

When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Having second thoughts yet?”

“Not … really. Is this everything?”

“It isn’t.” He stood and opened the oven, checking the casserole that was baking inside. He let the door close slowly.

“You mean there’s more?”

“One small item.”

“One small item,” Jamie repeated, assuming she wouldn’t have any more trouble with this than his other demands.

“If we do decide to go ahead and have a child together …”

“And I think we should,” she said, smiling over at him.

“Fine. Great. Wonderful. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Good. In that case, I insist we get married.”




Four


Jamie was too confused to think clearly. Surely Rich didn’t mean what he’d just said. It made no sense. “Married … but … you can’t be serious.”

“I’ve rarely been more serious in my life,” Rich answered, stalking to the far side of her kitchen. He removed two dinner plates from her cupboard and set them on the table. “Naturally, this wouldn’t be a conventional marriage.”

“Naturally,” Jamie echoed, still too bewildered to understand his reasoning. “Then … why are you insisting on a wedding?”

“I want the child to have my name. I don’t care if that no longer matters to most people. It matters to me.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll continue to maintain our separate residences. For all intents and purposes, nothing will change, at least not outwardly. Except that we’ll be sharing the care and custody of a child.”

Jamie stood in front of the silverware drawer and closed her eyes, trying to force her heart to stop pounding so hard. Rich had made it plain this wasn’t any love match—not that she’d ever suspected it would be. Nevertheless, her heart had reacted fiercely to his insistence on a wedding. Because she couldn’t help associating marriage with love, despite a great deal of evidence to the contrary.

“What about the pregnancy? I mean … how do you think I should get pregnant?” By the time the question was complete, her voice had dwindled to a whisper.

“You could always seduce me.”

Furious, Jamie whirled around and glared at Rich. She could feel the hot blush warming her cheeks, “I should never have admitted that. You’re going to throw it in my face at every opportunity, aren’t you?”

“No,” he denied, but his eyes were sparkling with the blue light of laughter. “I agree with you. Sex between us would ruin everything. I don’t want to risk our friendship any more than you do.”

The tension eased from between Jamie’s shoulder blades.

“We’ll need to keep the marriage a secret.”

“For how long?” If their child was to have his name, they’d eventually have to tell their families. Jamie wasn’t keen on facing her mother with a surprise marriage to go along with a pregnancy. Doris Warren wouldn’t take kindly to being cheated out of a wedding any more than Rich’s mother would.

“We’d only stay married until the baby’s born,” Rich explained, revealing no hint of indecision, and certainly no doubts. He apparently had the whole situation worked out to his own satisfaction.

Unfortunately, he’d completely unsettled Jamie. She’d had everything organized and none of her plans included marriage, even a marriage of convenience. The questions were popping up faster than she could ask them.

“What are we going to say after the baby’s born?” she demanded.

“That we’re getting a divorce.”

Jamie felt the sudden need to sit down again. “That we’re getting a divorce?” she repeated. Already she could imagine her mother’s shock and dismay. Not only would Jamie have married without telling her, but she’d be obtaining a divorce.

“It makes sense once you think about it,” Rich continued with matchless confidence.

Maybe it did to him, but Jamie felt as though she were wandering through the dark, lost and confused, bumping into walls she didn’t know were there. It had all seemed so simple the night she’d approached Rich.

He pulled out a chair and placed his foot on the seat, resting his right elbow on his knee. “We’ll get married at the courthouse as quietly as possible. There’s no reason for anyone to know.”

“That much I understand…. I’m just not convinced it’s necessary.”

“I am,” he said adamantly.

“All right, all right,” she muttered, swiping one hand through her hair. What had seemed such an uncomplicated idea had suddenly taken on more twists and turns than a country road.

“You’ll agree to the wedding?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

“I’m not.” She sighed loudly.

“As soon as the ink’s dry on the marriage certificate, we can make an appointment with the gynecologist….”

“Good grief, what are we going to tell him?” Jamie didn’t relish that task. If Rich wanted to explain why two healthy, normal, married adults who wanted a baby would choose such an unconventional method, then more power to him.

“We won’t tell him anything. He’s a professional—he isn’t going to ask a lot of questions. It’s none of his business, anyway.”

“Rich … I don’t know about this.”

“If you have doubts, then I suggest you spill them now.”

“I’m not sure getting married is the right thing. We don’t have to go through a wedding ceremony for the baby to have your name. Couldn’t you legally adopt him or her after the birth?”

“Why complicate everything?”

“And marriage isn’t going to do that?” Jamie cried.

“Marriage will accomplish the same thing now without the legal hassles of adoption later. As I said, it’ll be in name only.”

“Yes, I know, but …” She hesitated, trying to shape her objections in the form of a reasonable argument. When she spoke, her eyes met his. “You’re going to think I’m terribly old-fashioned.”

“The woman who asked me to be a sperm donor? Hardly!”

Jamie had the feeling it would take a long time to live that down. “Yes,” she said vehemently, “I suppose it has to do with my upbringing, but I’ve always considered marriage sacred. Somehow, it just doesn’t feel right to sneak off and get married and … and then arrange for a divorce nine months later.”

Rich was quiet for a moment. “I agree,” he finally said, “but this isn’t a normal marriage.”

“What marriage is?” Jamie asked, thinking of all the friends she’d known over the years who’d married. Each relationship was different from the others. She’d stood by and observed how some couples had grown closer in their love and commitment. Others had drifted further and further apart until it was too late.

“Nothing’s going to change, at least not outwardly,” Rich tried to reassure her once again. “We’re doing this for the child’s sake. And for yours.”

“For mine?”

Rich’s eyes narrowed slightly, and when he spoke his voice was cold. “I won’t allow your reputation to be damaged by an out-of-wedlock pregnancy.”

That was all well and good, but it was her reputation and if she had no objections, then he needn’t be concerned. “But Rich—”

“Furthermore,” he said, interrupting her. “I refuse to allow my son or daughter to be born a bastard.” He raised his hand. “Before you argue with me, I feel the same way about this as I do about the baby having my name. I don’t care if it’s important to anyone else. It is to me. Besides, why make a kid’s life any harder than it has to be?”

“You’ve got a point,” she whispered.

“Still, I can understand your hesitation.”

Jamie lowered her eyes. “It’s just that I expect you’ll want to marry someday. Sooner or later a woman’s going to come into your life and this marriage is going to complicate everything for you. What are you going to tell her about me—and the child?”

“The truth.”

“But Rich—”

“It’s not going to happen. If I believed I was eventually going to marry, I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

Any doubts Jamie entertained were wiped out with the certainty of his smile.

“So you’ll marry me?” he asked.

Jamie nodded. She still wasn’t convinced it was the right thing to do, but he’d insisted on it so she felt she had no choice.

“One last thing,” Rich said, placing his foot back on the floor.

There was more? Jamie’s head was still reeling from his last announcement. “Now what?”

“You’re important to me. Our friendship’s important. For the sake of that friendship, I think we should have everything drawn up legally. I don’t want any misunderstandings later on.”

This seemed logical to Jamie. “Okay, but most of the lawyers I know through work handle real estate and wills and business mergers. This isn’t their kind of contract.”

“I know an attorney who’ll do it. One I trust.”

“Who?”

“James Wilkens, Christy’s ex-fiancé.”

James Wilkens’s office reminded Rich of his youngest sister, Christy. She used to work here, and he’d stopped by a couple of times over the past year to take his sister to lunch. He half expected her to come around the corner at any moment.

Christy was married to Cody, however, not James. Sheriff Cody Franklin. Rich wasn’t likely to forget how he’d interrupted their wedding night, nor was Cody going to let him forget it. Rich had arrived at her apartment soon after he’d found out about Pamela’s little fling. He’d been disgusted and disheartened, convinced women didn’t know the meaning of the word faithful. He hadn’t included Christy in that, though. Not his little sister; she’d always been so sweet and virtuous. Then, not knowing they were married, he’d stumbled upon her in bed with Cody, and his opinion of women had fallen to an all-time low.

Sitting in the plushly decorated waiting room next to a five-foot potted philodendron brought back an abundance of memories. The plant was on one side of him, with a fidgeting Jamie on the other.

He glanced at her. She was flipping through the pages of a magazine so fast she’d created a draft. She was on her third issue of Good Housekeeping and they hadn’t been seated for more than five minutes.

She remained ambivalent about the idea of marriage, but she wanted the child enough to agree to his terms.

Unlike Jamie, Rich felt comfortable with the plan, for all the reasons he’d given her. He wasn’t sure what anyone else would think, especially his family—if they ever found out—but frankly that was their problem. He was doing his best friend a favor.

Rich had the almost overwhelming urge to laugh. Never had he thought he’d agree to anything like this. According to Jason, women gravitated naturally toward him. In some ways that was true, but they were usually the wrong women. What he wouldn’t give to have fallen in love with a woman as genuine and compassionate as Jamie.

The need to touch her, to reassure her, even in the smallest of ways, was as strong as the urge to laugh had been a few minutes earlier. He reached for her hand, entwining her fingers with his own.

She looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I … I can’t seem to sit still.”

“We aren’t at the courthouse, you know. This is a meeting with James. He’s a decent guy, and a darn good attorney. He isn’t going to laugh or make snide remarks.”

“I know…. It’s just that …” She let the rest of the sentence fade.

“You’re nervous.”

“I’m nervous,” she said. “I don’t understand why, exactly, but my stomach’s in knots and I can’t seem to read, and I keep thinking of everything that could go wrong.”

“Like what?”

Jamie turned from him and stared down at the open magazine in her lap. “I … You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Marriage shouldn’t be taken lightly. I know I’ve said that before, but I can’t seem to explain it in a way that you’ll understand. Something happens to a couple when they marry—even when it’s only a marriage of convenience. Something … spiritual. I know you don’t agree with me, but we’re both going to be affected by this. I can’t shake the feeling that deep down we’ll regret it.”

“We aren’t going to have a physical relationship.”

“I know all that,” she said, “but it doesn’t change what I feel.”

Her hand was trembling in his, and he could tell from the way her voice quavered that she was close to tears. “Do you want to call it off?” Rich would accede to Jamie’s wishes, but he hoped she wouldn’t back out now.

“That’s the crazy part,” she said, her expression even more anguished than before. “I want this marriage and our child more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

“So do I,” Rich admitted, realizing how true it was. “So do I.”

“Rich,” James greeted him as he came into the waiting room. Rich stood and they exchanged handshakes. “It was a pleasant surprise to find your name on my appointment calendar this morning.” The attorney looked from Rich to Jamie, and he smiled warmly.

“This is Jamie Warren,” Rich said.

“Hello.”

“We met briefly … a while back,” she said, suddenly biting off her words. She cast an embarrassed glance at Rich, as though she’d made a dreadful blunder. Fortunately James didn’t react at all. It wasn’t until they were inside James’s office that Rich remembered the two of them had been introduced at James and Christy’s engagement party.

“Come on in and sit down,” James said, motioning toward the two upholstered chairs positioned on the other side of his desk. James, who was of medium height with broad shoulders and a hairline just beginning to recede, had a rather formal manner and a natural reserve.

Rich knew from mutual acquaintances that he’d taken the broken engagement hard. He’d loved Christy and been deeply wounded when she’d married Cody instead. Rich had heard that James rarely dated. If so, that was a shame. James had a lot to offer a woman. He was a junior partner with the firm these days and his talents were in high demand. It would take one hell of a woman to replace Christy, and Rich could only hope that James would find someone just as special.

“So,” James said, reaching for his pen and a yellow pad, “what can I do for you?”

Rich leaned back in his chair. “Jamie and I would like you to draft a prenuptial agreement.”

The attorney’s gaze flew to Rich’s. “Congratulations! I’m delighted to hear it. I didn’t know you were engaged.”

“We aren’t … exactly,” Jamie said hurriedly. When James focused his attention on her, she shifted in her chair and gestured at Rich. “You’d better explain … everything.”

“This will be a marriage of convenience,” he announced.

“A marriage of convenience,” James echoed, as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

“There are … extenuating circumstances.”

“We’re going to have a baby,” Jamie inserted, then as she realized what she’d implied, her eyes grew wide. “I’m not pregnant, at least not yet, but if everything goes according to schedule, I will be in the next couple of months.”

James lowered his pen. “This doesn’t sound like a marriage of convenience to me.”

“We aren’t going to destroy a perfectly wonderful friendship by having sex,” Jamie declared vehemently, slicing the air with her hands. “We agreed on that first thing.”

The pen was carefully placed on the polished mahogany desk. James frowned at Rich, then cleared his throat. “Let me see if I understand this. You plan for Jamie to become pregnant, but there isn’t going to be any sex?”

“Before we go any further, I want the details of the divorce clearly spelled out,” Jamie added, sliding to the edge of her cushioned seat. She slipped her hands under her thighs, but continued to fidget, crossing and uncrossing her ankles. “They should be as explicitly drawn up as the particulars of the marriage. And by the way, we won’t be living together. But that shouldn’t matter, should it?”

“You’re planning the divorce now?” This time, James made a few notations on the pad, frowning again.

“You don’t expect us to stay married after the baby’s born, do you?”

“Rich?” James gave him a stern look. “Would you kindly explain what’s going on here?”

“We’re getting married, having a baby and getting a divorce. A, B, C. Points one, two, three. It’s not nearly as complicated as it sounds.” Rich found he was enjoying this. James, however, obviously wasn’t.

“A prenuptial agreement—okay, fine. We have several forms already drawn up that you can read over. The two of you can decide which one suits you best and amend it as you see fit. But—”

“But what about the baby and the divorce?” Jamie asked nervously. Turning to Rich, she added, “I don’t think James understands what we’re planning.”

“You’re right about that. The marriage I understand—at least I think I do. Unfortunately it’s everything else that’s got me confused.”

“There’s a logical explanation for all this,” Rich assured him.

“No, there isn’t,” Jamie said sharply. “Rich insists we marry and I don’t feel it’s necessary, but nothing I say will convince him. If I didn’t want a baby so much, I’d never agree to this.”

“Rich?” Once again, James looked at him, clearly more baffled than ever.

“It’s not as confusing as it seems,” Rich told him a second time. “A bit unconventional, perhaps, but not confusing.” He spent the next ten minutes explaining their plans and answering a long series of questions from the attorney.

“It sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” Jamie said when Rich had finished. “You probably think we both need appointments at a mental-health clinic. I don’t blame you, I really don’t.”

James took his time answering. He continued making notes, then raised his head to look pointedly at Rich. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’m sure.” Rich shared few of Jamie’s concerns regarding the marriage. It was merely a formality. She kept talking about it as though it were a deep spiritual experience. For some couples, marriage might well be that. But not for Jamie and him.

“What about you, Jamie?”

Her head came up sharply.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

She hesitated, then nodded emphatically. “I’m sure.”

James paused, rolling the pen between his open palms as he collected his thoughts. “Does your family know about your plans?” The question was directed at Rich.

He gave a short, scoffing laugh. “You’ve got to be joking. I don’t intend to let them find out, either. At least not right away. They’ll learn about the marriage and the baby eventually—that much is inevitable. But the longer I can keep this from my parents, the better.”

“On that, I can agree.”

“So you’ll write up an agreement for us?” Rich asked. He hadn’t missed the subtle note of concern in James’s voice.

“I’ll have one drawn up within a week.”

“Good.” Rich took Jamie’s hand. They both stood, and she tucked the long strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Then we’ll go off to the courthouse now and apply for the wedding license.”

“Might I offer you two a bit of advice?” James asked, standing himself. He rubbed the side of his jaw as if he hadn’t decided exactly what he wanted to say.

“Please.” Jamie’s tone suggested that she hoped someone would talk her out of this scheme. If that was the case, Rich would be the first to remind her that she was the one who’d started the whole thing.

“I’ll write up whatever you want me to,” James said thoughtfully, “but I don’t believe there’s any reason to rush into anything. You’ve both waited this long to have a family—a few more months isn’t going to make any difference.”

Rich looked to Jamie for confirmation, but he couldn’t read her thoughts. “We’ll talk about it,” he promised.

James nodded. “I’ll give you a call later in the week and you can stop by and read over the agreement.”

“Great.” Rich steered Jamie toward the door, although she didn’t need any encouragement. She seemed downright eager to escape. “I’ll be talking to you soon then,” Rich said over his shoulder.

“Soon,” James promised.

Jamie was quiet on the way to the parking lot. For that matter, so was he. Although James Wilkens hadn’t explicitly stated his misgivings, they were all too apparent—from the questions he’d asked and the hesitation Rich had heard in his voice.

Rich unlocked the passenger door and held it open for Jamie. He waited until she was inside, his hand on the frame. “Do you want to take some time to think this over?”

“No,” she said instantly. “Do you?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Their eyes met and held until they were both smiling broadly.

Rich woke early Tuesday morning, before the alarm went off. He turned on the shower and stepped under the plummeting spray, enjoying the feel of it against his skin. He was whistling cheerfully when the tune slowly faded, one note at a time.

He quickly finished showering, reached for a towel and headed directly from the bathroom to the phone at his bedside. He punched out the number from memory and waited impatiently for Jamie to answer.

“Good morning,” he said enthusiastically.

“Good morning,” came her groggy reply.

“You know what today is, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. It isn’t every day a woman gets married.”

“Second thoughts?”

“Third and fourth if you want the truth, but now that I’ve had a chance to think it over, I’m more certain than ever.”

“Good.” He’d grown anxious in the shower, convinced Jamie would change her mind at the last minute. He had to be assured one final time, although they’d talked of little else in the past week.

James had contacted him Friday afternoon, and Rich had stopped at the attorney’s office on his way home from work. The agreement was several pages long, but when he asked for the bill, James had insisted it was a wedding present. The gesture took Rich by surprise. James was the only person who knew what they intended, and he was acting as though this was a conventional marriage. Of all people, James was well aware exactly how unconventional it was going to be.

“You think we’re nuts, don’t you?”

“No,” James had responded with a wry grin. “I think you’re both in love and just don’t know it yet.”

James’s comment had caught Rich off guard. He would never have taken the attorney for a romantic.

I think you’re both in love and just don’t know it yet. On this, the morning of his wedding, Rich tested James Wilken’s theory once again. Sure, he loved Jamie, but not in the sense James implied. They were friends. Pals. Not lovers. Not soulmates. Just friends.

“Have you arranged for a witness?” Jamie asked, pulling Rich out of his reverie.

“A witness?”

“Rich—” she groaned “—don’t you remember? When we applied for the license, we were told we’d each need to bring a witness. What do you plan to do, drag in someone from outside the judge’s chambers?”

Rich thought about it for a moment. “I suppose so.”

“Don’t forget the ring,” she said, beginning to sound nervous.

“I won’t.”

“As soon as the ceremony’s over, I’ll return it.” Rich intended to use a small diamond that had once belonged to his grandmother. Jamie had objected, until she’d hit upon the idea of returning it after the ceremony. Wearing a diamond would raise too many questions, she’d decided. The only reason they even needed one was for the exchange of vows.

“Who’s going to be your witness?”

Jamie paused. She couldn’t very well ask any of her friends. “I … I’m not sure yet. I was thinking of Margie from New Accounts. Margie can keep a secret. But then I thought it might not be a good idea if anyone from the bank knew I was getting married.”

“What do you plan to do?” he asked, mimicking her words. “Drag in someone from outside the judge’s chambers?”

“I suppose so,” she returned, and laughed. It had been at least a week since Rich had heard her laugh. It encouraged him, and he chuckled, too.

“You haven’t heard from anyone?”

“No. You?”

Their biggest concern was that one or more of their family members would somehow find out that they’d applied for a marriage license.

In his worst nightmare Rich could envision his mother sobbing hysterically, interrupting the ceremony. She’d be furious that he was marrying Jamie without the large church wedding she’d looked forward to having for Taylor and Christy. Both of Rich’s sisters had chosen small private weddings without any family present. For that matter, so had Paul. And he was doing the same thing.

The family honor now rested in Jason’s hands.

Jason.

“Rich.” Jamie’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a witness.”

Rich got dressed in a hurry, his movements filled with purpose.

He grabbed his raincoat on his way out the door and found himself whistling once more as he unlocked his car. He checked his watch and realized he had plenty of time. More time than he knew what to do with.

He drove to his brother’s veterinary hospital in the south end of Seattle. There he saw three people in the waiting room. Two in the section marked Dogs and one little old lady clinging tightly to her cat on the other side of the room.

“Is Jason in?” he asked the receptionist.

“He’s with a Saint Bernard, but he’ll be out soon.”

Sure enough, Jason appeared five minutes later. He wore a white lab coat, but underneath, Rich knew he had on jeans and a T-shirt.

“Rich, what are you doing here?”

“Can you take an hour off later today?”

“You buying me lunch?” Jason asked.

“No. I need you to be the best man at my wedding.”




Five


Jamie was at the courthouse at the agreed-upon time, pacing the corridor outside Judge Webster’s chambers. Ten to two.

She was there, but Rich wasn’t.

If he left her standing at the altar—so to speak—she’d personally see to his tar and feathering.

She called his cell phone. No answer.

For the tenth time, she checked her watch.

Seven minutes late. The man would pay for this.

A woman Jamie assumed was the judge’s secretary stepped into the hallway. “It’s almost two. The judge can see you now.”

“Ah … hello,” Jamie said, giving the middle-aged woman her brightest smile. “My … The man I’m going to marry seems to have been detained. I’m sure he’ll be here any second.”

“I see.” She glanced at her watch as though to say the judge was a busy man.

“I’m sure he’ll be here,” she repeated. A slow death would be too good for Rich Manning if he wasn’t. “I was wondering … when Rich does arrive, would it be possible for you to be my witness?” She shouldn’t have left it to the last minute like this, but she hadn’t known who to ask.

“Of course.” The gray-haired woman returned Jamie’s smile. “Let me know as soon as your young man shows up.”

“I will, thank you.”

Jamie tried his cell again, and again he didn’t answer. She resumed her pacing. She’d made the mistake of asking for the whole day off. If she’d only taken half a day, she wouldn’t have all this time to contemplate what she was doing. In the last five minutes she’d vacillated between thinking marriage was the best solution and feeling convinced that it was the most foolish decision she’d ever made.

“Jamie.” Breathless, Rich came around the corner at a half run.

“Where have you been?” she cried, her voice cracking under the strain. She was caught halfway between abject relief and total fury. Halfway between hope and despair, trapped in a world of nagging questions and second thoughts.

Rich pulled her into his arms and hugged her close. His breathing was labored, as though he’d raced up several flights of stairs. “I got stuck in traffic.”

Jamie was about to chastise him for not allowing enough time, but she swallowed her irritation. What did it matter? He was there now. Suddenly she felt a relief so great all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and weep.

“Judge Webster’s secretary said we should go into his office as soon as you arrived,” she said, composing herself.

“Just a minute. We have to wait for my witness,” Rich said, smiling down at her. His beautiful blue gaze was filled with a teasing light.

“You actually brought someone with you? Who?”

“Me,” Jason Manning said, hurrying around the same corner Rich had a moment earlier. He, too, was out of breath. “Rich left me to park the car,” he said, pressing his hand over his heart. “Said if he was late for his wedding, you’d skin him alive.”

“He was right, too.”

Jamie’s gaze flew to Rich, whose expression was both tender and amused. He’d brought family! They’d discussed the subject at length and had agreed not to let any of their immediate relatives in on their plans. Not until it was necessary, which they’d calculated would be when Jamie entered the fifth or sixth month of her pregnancy.

“Bringing Jason seemed like a good idea at the time,” Rich said with a chagrined look. “He spent half the morning arguing with me. According to Jason, we’re both candidates for the loony bin.”

“We weren’t going to tell anyone, remember?” They’d decided that the fewer people who were in on this, the better. But at the rate Rich was telling people, Jamie wouldn’t be surprised to see her picture splashed across the front of a grocery-store tabloid.

“Don’t worry,” Jason inserted smoothly, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“I’ll explain everything later,” Rich promised in a low voice. He draped his arm over her shoulder and inhaled noisily, as though he still needed to catch his breath. “But right now, we’ve got a wedding to attend.”

Jamie knew the ceremony itself wouldn’t last more than a few minutes; she’d taken comfort in that. They’d be in and out of the judge’s chambers in five minutes, ten at the most.

They stood before Judge Webster, their backs stiff and straight. The judge attempted to reassure them with a smile.

Jamie needed to be reassured. Her knees were shaking, her hands trembled and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to go through with this.

When it came time to repeat her vows, she hesitated and raised her eyes to Rich. How could she promise to love him and honor him for the rest of their lives, knowing full well their marriage wouldn’t last the year?

Rich must have read her confusion and her fears. Some unfathomable emotion flickered in his eyes, and she wondered if he was experiencing the same doubts. When his hold on her hand tightened, Jamie was grateful. She felt the need to be close to him. She didn’t know why, any more than she understood the reason she’d agreed to go through with this wedding ceremony.

When she spoke, her voice shook, then steadied and grew strong. Her heart was pounding, then gradually returned to a normal, even beat. She realized that the calmness she felt, the serenity, had come from Rich. His eyes didn’t leave her, and his own voice was confident and sure.

They exchanged rings, his hand holding hers as he slipped the delicate diamond that had belonged to his grandmother onto Jamie’s finger. He revealed no hesitation. Once the ring was secure, her gaze slowly traveled up to his face. She stopped at his eyes, so blue and clear. They were just as steady as his hand.

The judge pronounced them husband and wife, and with a naturalness Jamie didn’t question, Rich drew her into his embrace. Her hands gripped his shoulders as he lowered his mouth to hers. To the best of Jamie’s memory, this was the first time they’d kissed, really kissed.

Rich made it worth the wait.

His mouth slid possessively over hers, coaxing open her lips. His own were warm and moist, gentle and teasing, giving and demanding.

Jamie was overwhelmed by the variety of sensations he evoked. She felt light-headed and giddy. Appreciated and adored. It seemed that her entire world had been inadvertently turned upside down and she was groping to find her balance.

She shouldn’t feel this way, she told herself. She shouldn’t be feeling any of these sensations. Rich didn’t love her—not like this. Nothing like this. One kiss, and he made her feel as though she’d never been kissed before, as though she’d never experienced love before.

Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe this was all in her imagination, her mind creating a warm romantic fantasy in order to appease her conscience. Maybe this was a subconscious effort to wipe out the ambivalence she’d felt during the ceremony.

The sound of Rich’s older brother clearing his throat brought Jamie back to reality. Rich—her husband—reluctantly let her go and just as reluctantly turned his attention to Judge Webster. The two men exchanged handshakes.

“Thank you so much for being my witness,” Jamie said to Judge Webster’s secretary. She never did catch the woman’s name.

“I was pleased to do it,” the secretary told her. She stepped forward and gave Jamie an impulsive hug. “The judge marries a number of couples every year, but I have a good feeling about you and your young man. I think you two are going to be just fine.”

Jamie didn’t know what to say. She felt like the biggest phony who’d ever lived. It was happening already—the very thing she’d tried to warn Rich about. The feeling of connection. She’d sensed it during the ceremony and even more so with his kiss. But their marriage wasn’t supposed to be about any kind of spiritual or emotional connection. It was supposed to be a convenience, a legal shortcut to giving Jamie what she wanted—a child.

They were making a mockery of everything marriage was meant to be. Jamie had never felt more like crying in her life.

She’d tried to convince herself they were doing the right thing. Rich was so confident, so certain, and she believed him because … because she’d always believed him.

But if they were doing what was right, why was her stomach in knots? Why did she feel as though she was going to burst into tears? And why, oh why, had Rich kissed her the way a husband kisses his wife—the most cherished wife in the world?

“Congratulations,” Jason said, moving toward her.

She tried to smile, but her mouth started quivering and tears fell from the corners of her eyes, running down the sides of her face.

“Jamie?” Jason asked, giving her a hug. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

Jamie didn’t know how Jason managed it, but within minutes they were out of Judge Webster’s chambers and Rich was at her side, his arm around her middle.

“All right,” he said gently, guiding her down the hall, “why the tears?”

Jamie rubbed her hand across her cheeks, suspecting she’d smeared mascara over her face in the process. She’d dressed so carefully in her new pale pink suit. Like a romantic fool, she’d had her hair styled and nails manicured—and for what? So she could stand before God and man and say vows they’d never be able to keep.

“You honestly want to know what’s wrong?” she wailed, snapping open her purse and rummaging around for a tissue. She found one, tucked her handbag under her arm and noisily blew her nose. “You mean you haven’t guessed?”

“No.”

“I … I feel dreadful.”

“Why?” Rich looked completely bewildered.

“Because I just lied.”

“Lied?”

“So did you!”

“Me?” He sounded even more confused.

“How can you justify what we did? We stood before Judge Webster and said vows. Vows! Vows are serious. We made promises to each other, promises neither one of us intends to keep.”

“I can’t speak for you, but I certainly intend to honor my vows.”

“Oh, right,” Jamie muttered sarcastically, rubbing her hand beneath her nose. “You’re going to love me in … in sickness and health and everything else you said.”

“Yes.” Rich didn’t so much as blink.

“How … can you?”

“True, this might not be a traditional marriage. Nevertheless, it is a marriage. And like I said, I fully intend to honor every promise I made for the full duration of the marriage.”

“You do?” she asked on the tail end of a sniffle.

“You mean you don’t?”

“I … I suppose so. It’s just that I hadn’t thought about it like that. I do love you, you know … as a friend.”

As Rich walked her toward the elevator, his hands were clasped behind his back and his head was bent. Ever diplomatic, Jason remained a few steps behind them. “The problem,” Rich said, “is that we’ve each put years of effort into finding the perfect mate. We’ve spent years looking for that special person—someone we’d be willing to commit the rest of our lives to—but neither of us found what we were looking for. So when we stood before Judge Webster …” He hesitated as though he’d lost his train of thought.

“What we were pledging … the seriousness of our decision hit us hard,” Jamie finished for him.

“Exactly,” Rich agreed, nodding.

“Then you felt it, too?” She stopped walking and turned to face him, her heart in her throat. Rich had experienced the same reaction she had while they were repeating their vows. He, too, had felt the solemnness of it all.

“I did … very much,” he whispered. “A wedding ceremony is a sobering affair. If you didn’t understand it before, I want to make it clear now. I’m committed to you, Jamie. That commitment will be the same for the baby once he’s born.”

“Or she,” Jamie murmured, gnawing on her lower lip. Rich had said as much before, only she hadn’t understood it. He planned to provide financial support for their child and emotional support for her. He’d also insisted they marry so the child would bear his name. But she hadn’t thought of that as a commitment until he’d put it in those terms. A sense of contentment stole through her.

They continued walking side by side, toward the elevator, which was at the far end of the corridor. Rich matched his stride to hers. He was several inches taller than Jamie, and every once in a while, his shoulder would brush against her. His touch felt intimate and special. Jamie was sure he didn’t intend or expect her to feel anything at his touch, but she did. She couldn’t help herself.

“It’s going to be all right, isn’t it?” she asked when they stopped to wait for the elevator.

“Not if our parents find out, it won’t be,” Jason answered for Rich.

“They won’t anytime soon unless you tell them.” There was a clear warning in Rich’s words.

“Hey,” Jason said, raising his right hand. “I’ve already promised not to say a word—to anyone. Mom and Dad would have to torture it out of me.”

Rich chuckled and slowly shook his head. “All Mom would need to do is offer you homemade bread fresh from the oven.”

“Maybe so. But be aware that the fur’s gonna fly once she learns she missed out on another one of her kids’ weddings.”

“She’ll adjust,” Rich said, looping his arm over Jamie’s shoulder.

“Are you as full as I am?” Rich asked, leaning back against the upholstered circular booth. His hands rested on his flat stomach and he breathed in deeply.

“I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried.”

Rich had made reservations for their wedding dinner at the restaurant on top of the world-famous Space Needle. He’d planned every aspect of their wedding-day celebration, from the matinee tickets he’d purchased for a musical at the Fifth Avenue Theater, to a special dinner.

“What did Jason mean when he said you kidnapped him?” she asked. Not that it really mattered, she thought, basking in the pleasures of the most memorable day of her life.

Rich reached for the wine bottle and replenished both their glasses. “To be honest, I did kidnap him. Why … is another story. I’m not sure myself, especially when I knew he’d try to talk me out of this.”

“He did try, didn’t he?” That went without saying.

“Not at first.” Rich arched a brow as though he was still a bit surprised by that. “He actually seemed excited—until he heard the full details.”

Jamie groaned. “You told him … everything?”

“He’s my brother.” Rich picked up his wineglass and sipped. “When I first told him about you and me, he was thrilled. He said he’s always admired you and felt I couldn’t have made a better choice.”

“He said that?” Jamie couldn’t help feeling a little incredulous. She barely knew Rich’s older brother. Oh, they’d met on several occasions, but the longest conversation they’d ever had was at Christy’s engagement party, and that couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes. Jason had been miserable in a suit and tie, and kept edging his finger along the inside of his collar. Actually, Jamie had spent more time that night talking to Jason than she had to Rich. Her now-husband had escorted some blonde to the elegant affair, and the woman had stayed glued to his side all evening.

A surge of irritation flashed through her. She’d never been keen on Rich’s choice of girlfriends. She swore he could spot a bimbo a mile away.

He attracted them—and he attracted her.

That was a brand-new perception, a brand-new awareness.

Until he’d kissed her in the judge’s office, Jamie had never thought of Rich in a physical way. He’d always been attractive, too handsome for his own good. But what she’d experienced earlier that afternoon had nothing to do with his looks. Instead, it had a whole lot to do with sensuality.

Rich made her feel vulnerable. Exposed. Powerless. And yet … powerful, too. Everything, all the emotion, all the sensations, had come rushing toward her at once.

Afterward, he’d been so concerned. So understanding. Allaying her fears, answering her doubts. He’d dried her tears and made her laugh. He’d turned this into the most special day of her life.

What he’d said about how they’d each searched for someone to love was true. Jamie had wanted to be married for so many years. She’d hungered for that special relationship and all that went with it, only to be disappointed time after time.

Their dinner check arrived, and while Rich dealt with that, Jamie finished her wine. As she raised the glass to her lips, her gaze fell on the diamond ring on her left hand. It was a simple design, a small diamond set in the center of an antique gold rose. When Rich had first mentioned it, she hadn’t felt right about wearing it, but the fit was perfect, and now that it was on her finger she wished she didn’t have to take it off.

“I suppose I should drive you home.”

Jamie’s heart soared at the reluctance she heard in his voice. She wasn’t any more eager for this day to end than he was.

“I suppose,” she said with an equal lack of enthusiasm.

“You have to work tomorrow?”

Jamie nodded. “You?”

He nodded, too.

They stood, and Rich helped her on with her coat. His hands lingered on her shoulders, and he drew her back against him and breathed in deeply. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Jamie twisted around, and the restaurant noises that surrounded them—the laughter and conversation, the clinking of silverware on china—seemed to fade away.

“For marrying me,” he whispered. “For agreeing to bear my child.”

Jamie pulled the straight skirt over her hips and clipped it to the hanger. She hung it in her closet along with the jacket, then wandered into the kitchen as the teakettle whistled.

Sitting at the table in her full-length slip, she propped her nylon-covered feet on the opposite chair and cradled the mug of hot tea in both hands.

“I’m married,” she said aloud, testing the words.

They came back sounding hollow, as hollow as she felt. She hadn’t wanted Rich to leave—not so soon. It was barely ten. But when she’d offered him an excuse to stay, he’d turned her down.

So this was her wedding night. In her dreams she’d created a magical fantasy of champagne and romance. See-through nighties and wild, abandoned passion. If this was a traditional marriage, she’d have all that. Instead, she’d chosen something else. Something far less.

She should be happy. Excited. In love.

She was all those things—in a manner of speaking. Then why, she asked herself, did the aching loneliness weigh so heavily on her heart?

Rich bent the thick goose-down pillow in half and bunched it beneath his head. Rolling over, he glanced at the clock radio and sighed. Nearly one. The alarm was set for five-thirty and he had yet to fall asleep.

It wasn’t every day a man got married, he reminded himself. It wasn’t every man who spent his wedding night alone, either.

Rich had dropped Jamie off at her condo, and although she’d suggested he come in for coffee, he’d refused. He didn’t even know why he’d turned her down. Coffee had sounded good.

“Be honest,” Rich said aloud. It wasn’t the coffee that had enticed him, it was Jamie. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. But she was lovely. It seemed impossible to him that he’d missed it all these years. Was he blind?

He’d had beautiful. Pamela was beauty-queen gorgeous—and so empty inside, so lacking in values and morals, that he had to wonder what had attracted him in the first place. She’d appealed to his vanity, no doubt.

Rich rolled onto his back, tucked his hands beneath his head and stared up at the dark ceiling. It hadn’t felt right to leave Jamie. With real disappointment, he’d turned around and walked to his parked car. He’d paused halfway down the steps, resisting the urge to rush back and tell her he’d changed his mind, he’d take that coffee, after all.

Instead he’d returned to an apartment that had never seemed emptier and a bed that had never felt so cold.

The phone on Rich’s desk rang, and he automatically reached for it. “Engineering.” He didn’t take his eyes from the drawings he was reviewing.

“Hi,” came the soft feminine reply.

Rich straightened. “Jamie? You’re back from the doctor’s already?” He checked his watch and was surprised to discover it was nearly four.

“I just got back.”

“And?” He couldn’t keep the eagerness out of his voice. They’d already had one appointment to see Dr. Fullerton. Rich had gone in with Jamie for the initial visit. They’d sat next to each other in Dr. Fullerton’s private office and held hands while the gynecologist explained the procedure in detail.

“And,” Jamie said quietly, confidently, “we’re going to try for this month.”

“This month,” Rich repeated. “In case you didn’t know, I’ve always been fond of March. March is one of my favorite months.”

“Don’t get too excited. It … it might not take, it generally doesn’t with the first try.”

“April, then. April’s a good month. Another one of my all-time favorites.”

“It could easily be three or four months,” Jamie said with a laugh.

“June, July, August. Who can argue with summer?” Rich found himself smiling, too. He was calculating what month the baby would be due if Jamie got pregnant in March.

“December,” she said, apparently interpreting his silence. “How would you feel about a December baby?”

“Jubilant. How about you?”

“It could be January or February.” She sounded hesitant, as though she was afraid to put too much stock in everything going so smoothly.

“It’ll happen when it happens.”

“That was profound!” she said. “The doctor gave me a chart. Every morning, I’m supposed to take my temperature. It’ll be slightly elevated when I ovulate. As soon as that happens, I’m to contact his office.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Rich, that really isn’t necessary. It’s very sweet of you, but—”

“I thought you knew better than to argue with me.”

“I should,” she said with mock exasperation. “We’ve been married nearly a month and I don’t think I’ve won a single argument.”

“No wonder married life agrees with me.” He kept his voice low, wanting to be sure no one in the vicinity could overhear him. Only Jason knew he was married and he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. “Call me in the morning,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I want to keep my own chart.”

The following morning, Rich was in the shower when his phone rang. He turned off the faucet, grabbed a towel and raced across the bedroom.

“Hello!” he yelled into the receiver.

“Ninety-eight point six.”

He pulled open the drawer on his nightstand and searched blindly for a pen. Water was raining down from his hair, dripping onto the bed. “Got it.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Great.”

Wednesday morning, Rich waited in bed until he heard from her.

“Ninety-eight point six.” She sounded discouraged.

“Hey, nothing says it has to happen right away.”

“I keep trying to visualize it.”

“What is this? Think yourself pregnant?”

She laughed. “Something like that.”

“Call me tomorrow.” He reached for his chart and made the notation.

“I will.”

Thursday showed no difference, but Friday, Rich knew from the tone of her voice that something was up, and he hoped it was her temperature.

“Ninety-eight point seven … I think. Darn, these thermometers are hard to read. But it’s definitely higher.”

Rich could envision her sitting on the edge of her bed, squinting, trying to read the tiny lines that marked the thermometer. He made a mental note to buy her a digital one.

“Call Dr. Fullerton.”

“Rich, I’m not even sure it’s elevated. It could be wishful thinking on my part.”

“Call him anyway.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.” He hung up the phone and headed toward the shower, whistling.

It wasn’t until later that afternoon that the idea of taking her out to dinner occurred to him. Although they’d been married a month, they didn’t see each other often. It had been a conscious decision on Rich’s part following their wedding day. In light of how he’d felt when he kissed her, it seemed the safest thing to do. He’d taken her to a movie the weekend after their wedding, and they’d both been ill at ease. Foolish as it seemed, it was almost as if they were afraid of each other. Not once during the entire movie had they touched. Jamie didn’t invite him in for coffee afterward. Even now he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done had she offered.

Still, they talked every day. Only last weekend he’d changed the oil in her car while she sewed a couple of loose buttons on his shirts. It was a fair exchange and afterward they’d gone out for hamburgers. Nothing fancy. The tension between them didn’t seem to be as great as when they’d gone to the movie.

It was time to try again. There could well be a reason to celebrate, and a night on the town appealed to him. Someplace special. It wasn’t every day his wife’s temperature was elevated by one tenth of one percent.

Jamie was on her lunch break, and Rich didn’t leave a message. He’d call her later.

When he did, she was tied up with a customer. The next time he tried, the bank was closed, so he left a message for her at home.

“This is Prince Charming requesting your presence for dinner. Don’t eat until you talk to me. I’m on my way home now. Call me there.”

Rich expected a message from Jamie to be waiting for him when he arrived at his apartment. There wasn’t.

He tried her again at six, six-fifteen, six-thirty and six-forty-five, leaving a message all four times.

By seven o’clock, he was worried. A thousand possibilities crowded his mind, none of them pleasant. He paced the living room in an effort to convince himself he was overreacting, then dialed her number one last time. He listened to her recording yet again, and seethed anxiously during the long beep.

“Jamie, where the hell are you?” he demanded.




Six


Jamie checked her watch, keeping her wrist below the table, hoping she wasn’t being obvious. Eight-thirty! She’d been trapped listening to the endless details of Floyd Bacon’s divorce for three solid hours.

“Don’t you agree?” he asked, looking over at her.

She nodded, although she had no idea what she was agreeing to. A yawn came and she attempted to swallow it, didn’t succeed and tactfully pressed her fingers to her lips. Floyd was such a nice man and she was trying hard to disguise her boredom.

“My goodness, look at the time,” Floyd said.

It had all started so innocently.

Jamie had dated Floyd about five years ago. He was a regular customer at the bank and they’d seen each other off and on for a six-month period. Nothing serious, nothing even close to serious. Then he’d met Carolyn and the two of them had fallen in love and married. Jamie had attended their wedding. She remembered what she bought them for a wedding gift—a set of stainless steel flatware with rosebuds on the handles. He and Carolyn had bought a house a few months later. Jamie had handled the loan application for them, but when they’d moved, they’d switched their account to a branch closer to where they lived. In the past three years, Carolyn had quit work to stay home with their two young children.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am the marriage didn’t work out,” Jamie said, wondering what could possibly have gone wrong between two people who so obviously loved each other. She would never have suspected this would happen to Floyd and Carolyn, of all people. Of all couples.

“I’m sorry, too,” Floyd said. His dark eyes touched her with their sadness. He’d moved into an apartment and had stopped at the bank to open a checking account. But a new account was only a pretext, Jamie soon learned; for airing his frustration with Carolyn, his marriage, his two preschool children and life in general.

Floyd had arrived just before closing time, lingered until he was the last customer in the bank and then asked Jamie to join him for a drink. She’d hesitated, but he’d looked so downtrodden and miserable that she’d gone against her better judgment. A drink soon turned into two and then Floyd suggested they have something to eat. At the time, it had seemed reasonable, but that was an hour and a half ago.

“I really should be going home,” she said, reaching for her purse. It was Friday night and the work week had seemed extra-long and she was tired. Keeping track of her temperature and charting it was draining her emotional energy.

No, she decided, talking to Rich every morning was responsible for that. Speaking to him first thing, discussing the intimate details of her reproductive system, hearing his enthusiasm … talking about their child. Nothing had prepared her for the effect all this was having. She lived for those brief two-minute calls. It was almost as if he were in bed beside her … almost as if he were holding her in his arms. This closeness she felt toward him frightened her. The magnitude of what they’d done, of what they were planning, the child they’d conceive together, had brought subtle and not-so-subtle changes to their relationship.

Earlier in the day she’d hoped and planned to have a relaxing Friday night—to soak in a hot bath and cuddle up in bed with a good book. She might have given Rich a call and invited him over for dinner. There was a new recipe she wanted to try and he seemed to enjoy her home-cooked meals. She’d only seen him twice in the past month, and it didn’t seem enough.

“I’ll follow you home,” Floyd said, breaking into her thoughts. He tossed some money on the table for the waitress.

It would be too late to call Rich now. Tomorrow was her Saturday morning to work, but she could call him then and ask him over for dinner on either Saturday or Sunday. Friday nights were probably busy for him, so it wasn’t likely he would’ve been home anyway.

“Jamie?”

“I’m sorry. My mind was a million miles away. There’s no need for you to see me home, Floyd.”

“I know, but I’d feel better if I knew you got there safely.”

She nodded. Floyd really was a nice man, and she did feel sorry for him. If lending an ear had helped him, she shouldn’t complain. The time would come soon enough when she’d need a shoulder to cry on herself. Once the baby was born, she’d be filing for divorce. The thought was a cheerless one.

Jamie lived less than fifteen minutes from the bank and it was on Floyd’s way to his new apartment, so she didn’t object strongly when he insisted on following her.

When she pulled into her assigned parking space, he waited until she was out of her car. She waved to let him know she was safe and sound.

Floyd lowered his car window and said, “I appreciate being able to talk to you, Jamie. You’re a good friend to both Carolyn and me.”

“I’m happy if I was any help.”

The sadness returned to Floyd’s eyes. “I really love her, you know.”

Jamie nodded. She believed him. Divorce was usually so ugly and there was so much pain involved. Jamie had seen several of her friends traumatized by the breakup of their marriages.

“Are you sure you really want this divorce?” she asked impulsively. Surely if two people deeply loved each other, they could work something out, couldn’t they?

He shook his head. “I never did want a divorce. Carolyn’s the one who … well, you know.” His shoulders rose in a deep sigh.

“You’re sure about that?”

Floyd hesitated. “I’m pretty sure. When I told her I was moving out, she didn’t say a word to stop me. The way I figure it, if she really loved me, she would’ve asked me to stay.”

“What if she assumed that if you really loved her, you’d never want to move?”

Floyd stared at her. “You think that’s what she might’ve thought?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth asking, don’t you think?”

“Yeah … I do,” Floyd said, his voice revealing the first enthusiasm she’d heard all evening. He raised his car window, then quickly lowered it again. “Jamie?”

“Yes?” She was halfway toward the outside stairs that led to her second-floor condominium.

“Would you mind if I used your phone? My cell’s dead, and I’d like to give Carolyn a call to see if she wants to talk.”

“Sure.” Smiling, she opened her purse and took out her key. If she’d mentioned this earlier she thought wryly, she might’ve been home two hours ago.

Floyd parked his car, then hurried up the stairs with her. He resembled a young boy, he was so eager. She unlocked the door and flipped on the light switch. Floyd immediately headed for her phone.

Jamie made herself scarce for a couple of minutes, going into her bedroom to remove her shoes. She hung up her jacket and eased her gray blouse from her waistband.

Before leaving her bedroom, she slipped her feet into her fuzzy open-toed slippers. Then she went into the kitchen and put the kettle on the burner. As soon as Floyd was gone, she planned to relax with a cup of herbal tea.

“Carolyn agrees we should talk,” Floyd announced triumphantly as he replaced the telephone receiver. “She sounded pleased to hear from me. Do you think she’s lonely? I doubt it,” he answered his own question before Jamie had a chance. “Carolyn always did have lots of friends, and she isn’t one to sit home and cry in her soup, if you know what I mean.”

Jamie nodded. “I hope this works out for you.”

“Me, too. I’ll be heading out now,” Floyd said. “She’s getting a sitter for the kids and she’s going to meet me for a cup of coffee.”

The doorbell chimed then, in long impatient bursts. Floyd’s gaze swung to Jamie. She couldn’t imagine who’d be arriving this late.

She walked past Floyd and opened her door. No sooner had she turned the lock than Rich raced in as though he was there to put out a fire.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been half out of my—” He stopped midstep and midsentence when he caught sight of Floyd and the color drained from his face. His eyes widened with shock, disbelief and … could it be pain? Slowly he turned toward Jamie.

“Floyd, this is Rich Manning,” she said, gesturing from one to the other. “Rich, Floyd Bacon.”

Floyd held out his hand, and for a moment, Jamie feared Rich wasn’t going to take it. He did so, but with ill grace. “I take it Jamie didn’t mention me,” he said sarcastically.

“Ah … no,” Floyd said, rubbing his palms together. He eyed the front door. “Listen, I was just leaving.”

“No need to rush,” Rich said, sitting down on the sofa and crossing his long legs. He stretched his arm against the back of the cushions, giving the impression that he had plenty of time to sit and chat. “I’m interested in hearing how the two of you spent the evening.” His smile lacked warmth or welcome.

“Rich,” Jamie said, stepping forward. She’d never seen him like this, so sarcastic and ill-mannered.

One look from him cut her to the quick. Rarely had anyone looked at her with such … disdain. He studied her, from her slippers to the blouse she’d pulled free from her skirt, and his eyes narrowed, damning her.

“Jamie’s an old friend,” Floyd explained. “I was in the bank this afternoon and … well, you see, my wife and I have separated, and Jamie—”

“So you’re married, too.”

“Too?” Frowning, Floyd turned to Jamie for an explanation.

“Yes,” Rich said in a deceptively calm voice. “Jamie and I’ve been married … what is it now, darling, a month?”

“Rich,” she warned him under her breath. He might be her legal husband, a man she’d known and respected for more than a decade, but seeing him behave like this, talk like this, he seemed like a total stranger.

“Jamie. My goodness,” Floyd said, sounding astonished.

“You didn’t say a word about being married. Congratulations! I wish you’d said something earlier.”

“So do I,” Rich added caustically.

Once again Floyd glanced at the door. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I really should leave. My wife and I are going to meet and talk … Jamie was the one who suggested it. Well, actually, I came up with the idea of calling Carolyn, but Jamie helped me see that it was the right thing to do.” He spoke rapidly, the words coming out so fast they tumbled over one another. “I’ll see you later.”

Jamie held the door for him. “Thanks for dinner,” she said as graciously as the circumstances allowed.

“Thanks for dinner,” Rich mimicked derisively as Floyd went out the door.

Jamie felt a storm threatening. One of anger and frustration. The thundercloud was sitting directly behind her, and she did her best to restrain her indignation. After taking a moment to compose herself, she turned around. “Is something bothering you, Rich?” she asked in a level voice.

He leapt off the sofa as though he’d been sitting on a giant spring. “Is something bothering me?” he repeated coldly. “What do you think you’re doing, dating that joker?”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“I heard you thank him for dinner.” He spat out the words as though to have to say them was a detestable task. “At least you could’ve returned my phone calls.”

“I … haven’t checked my messages. Good grief, I didn’t get home until five minutes ago.” Moving across the room, she went to her phone to listen. Six messages, all from Rich, played back, each sounding progressively less patient and increasingly anxious. The last one had been to demand to know “where the hell” she was.

“When I couldn’t stand waiting for you to call, I drove over here to wait for you. Lo and behold, your car was in your parking space and you were here—with Floyd.”

“I can understand your concern,” Jamie said calmly, willing to grant him that much.

“You’re my wife, dammit! How am I supposed to feel when you turn up missing?” He raked his fingers through his hair and stalked to the opposite side of the room.

Jamie drew in a long, soothing breath, determined not to let this escalate into a full-fledged argument. “I was never missing. I’m sorry I worried you, Rich, but you’re overreacting, and frankly, it’s beginning to annoy me.”

“Annoy you? I’ve been pacing the floor for the past three hours….”

“I would have phoned.”

“You brought a man home with you!” He made it sound as though that was grounds for divorce.

“Floyd’s an old friend.”

The kettle whistled, and Jamie hurried into the kitchen and turned off the burner, all thought of tea forgotten. The boiling water bubbled from the spout, nearly scalding her. Rich had followed, stalking into the room behind her.

“Apparently you don’t have a problem letting old friends take you out to dinner,” he accused her, his words inflamed with impatience.

Jamie gritted her teeth, biting back an angry retort. “He needed someone to talk to, someone who’d listen to his problems. You’re making it sound as though I did something underhanded. I was just being a friend.”

“You’re a married woman,” Rich bellowed. He slammed his fist on the counter. “My wife. How do you think it makes me feel, knowing you chose to go out to dinner with another man instead of your own husband?”

“I didn’t choose Floyd over you! Good heavens, how was I supposed to know you wanted to take me to dinner? I’m not a mind reader.”

“If you’d come home after work the way you’re supposed to, you would have heard the first of my six messages.”

“That’s ridiculous! I can’t run my life according to your whims.” She’d managed to keep her temper intact, but she didn’t know how much longer her precarious hold would last.

“I thought you were different.” A spark of pain flashed in his eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I would’ve trusted you with my life, but you’re like every other woman I’ve ever known. The minute my back’s turned, you think nothing of seeing someone else.”

The emptiness in his voice cut at Jamie’s heart. “That’s so unfair.”

“We’re married, and even that didn’t make a difference.”

His eyes accused her of—what? Being unfaithful? That was completely irrational!

“This isn’t a real marriage and you know it,” she said heatedly. Her voice was shaking with the effort to keep from shouting. “You’re the one who insisted on the ceremony, but it was for convenience.”

“We’re married!”

“Maybe, but you have no right to storm into my home and insult my guests.”

“And you have no right to bring a man home with you.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Jamie couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. “Our marriage is in name only for … for obvious reasons.”

“We said our vows.”

“Don’t remind me.” The promises they’d made to each other continued to haunt her.

“Clearly someone has to.”

“Oh-h-h,” Jamie seethed. Tightening her fists at her sides, she exhaled sharply and resisted the urge to bang her cupboard doors to vent her frustration.

“Temper, temper.”

“I think you’d better leave before we say something we’ll regret.” Instinct had told her that getting married wouldn’t work, and she’d ignored it. Now she was suffering the consequences.

“Not on your life.”

“This is my home,” Jamie cried, quickly losing her grip on her rage. She’d never known Rich could be so unreasonable, so rude, so … impossible.

“You’re just like every other woman I’ve ever known,” Rich repeated in unflattering tones.

“And you’re just like every other man, so wrapped up in your own ego that it’d take a whack on the head with a two-by-four to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

“It wasn’t me who went out behind your back,” he shouted. He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms.

“Why do you care if I had dinner with a dozen men?” she demanded. “It never bothered you before!”

“We weren’t married before.”

“I’m not your possession,” she said. “You have no right, husband or not, to tell me who I can see and who I can’t.”

“The hell I don’t.”

Jamie squeezed her eyes shut. “I knew this wasn’t going to work … I told you it wouldn’t, but would you listen? Oh, no, you knew so much better.”

“I still do.”

Jamie couldn’t help it, she stamped her foot. She hadn’t done anything so childish since junior high. “Look at us,” she cried, her voice shaking with anger. “I’m … I’m not even pregnant yet and already we’re fighting. We’re going to ruin everything fighting over something so … stupid.”

“It isn’t stupid to me.”

“Floyd is just a friend. For heaven’s sake, he’s married!”

“So are you.”

“Why are you doing this?” she cried.

“All I’m asking is that you keep your part of the bargain and I’ll keep mine. That shouldn’t be so difficult.”

“Oh, right,” she said, walking around the table and leaning on the back of a chair. “There’s a lot more involved in this arrangement than I ever knew about or agreed to and—”

“Like what?”

“Like … like your caveman attitude toward me.”

“Caveman? Because I don’t want my wife dating another man—another married man?” He glared across the room at her. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I seem to remember a phrase or two in the wedding vows that state—”

“Don’t you dare.” Jamie pointed an accusing finger at his chest. “Don’t you dare,” she repeated. “I never wanted to go through with the wedding, and you knew it. Using it against me now is the height of unfairness.”

“We’re married, Jamie, whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t like it, I hate it. I hate everything about it—this is the biggest mistake of my life.” Unable to bear any more arguing, she whirled around and covered her face with her hands. If there was any decency left in him, Rich Manning would go. He’d leave her alone.

Jamie’s nerves were raw, and the hair at the nape of her neck bristled as she heard Rich walk toward her. The clipped pace of his steps did nothing to reassure her.

“Did he kiss you?”

“No!” she shouted, furious that he’d ask such an outrageous question.

“Good, because I’m going to.” His hands moved over her shoulders, clasping them, holding her in place.

“No.” She made one weak protest, but she didn’t know who she was talking to, Rich or herself. He’d kissed her once, the day of their wedding, and it had obsessed her ever since. She couldn’t allow him to destroy her equilibrium again, destroy her peace of mind.

Although she resisted, Rich turned her around to face him. Jamie was on fire, and he’d barely touched her.

Rich took hold of her chin, his fingers firm, yet oddly gentle. Without another word, he bent down and covered her mouth with his own. Jamie knew she shouldn’t let him do this. Not in the heat of anger. Not when they were fighting. Not when his kiss would only create a need for more.

He tasted so good, so wonderful. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this so-called marriage was fair.

He moved his mouth over hers, shaping her lips with his own until she moaned. It seemed to be what he was waiting for. The instant her lips parted, his tongue swept inside.

Shock waves vibrated through her at the small, ruthless movements of his tongue. Jamie could feel herself melting against him. The need continued to build within her, licking at her senses, growing hotter and stronger and fiercer….

Not satisfied with her lips alone, he kissed her eyes, her throat, until Jamie felt as if she was about to ignite.

A frightening excitement exploded inside her, going beyond mere pleasure and quickly advancing to a demand so intense there would be no turning back for either of them.

“Rich … no.” She braced her hands against his chest, wanting to use that leverage to break away.

“Yes,” he countered with a groan. His arms circled her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly from the floor, adjusting her hips against his own so she was aware of what she was doing to him—of the need she’d created in him.

Jamie slipped her arms around his neck, inclined her head and kissed him back. She felt sensual, wanton … and a little scared.

A low, rough sound rumbled from deep within his throat.

“Rich … please, oh, please, we’ve got to stop.” Her heart was reeling with excitement but she was terrified of where this might lead. Terrified that, after tonight, she’d never be able to live with a marriage that wasn’t a marriage.

“Not yet.” He pressed his lips to her neck, running the tip of his tongue across the smooth skin of her throat and up the underside of her jaw. Jamie threw back her head. A ribbon of warm pleasure braided its way down her spine.

She buried her fingers in his hair and sighed, feeling breathless and hot. So breathless she could barely gulp in enough air. So hot. Hotter than she’d ever been.

He lifted her higher, leaning her against the kitchen counter. His hands worked the buttons of her blouse, sliding it from her shoulders. Her bra closed in the back, and he reached for and found the clasp.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, caressing her thighs, stroking them as he spread delicate, moist kisses across her neck.

“I … don’t know.”

“Funny, I do,” he countered with a lazy, sexy laugh. “You want me.”

Jamie couldn’t disagree. She could barely speak as a powerful coil of need tightened within her.

“Deny it.” His tongue moistened a trail from the hollow at the base of her throat to her trembling chin.

“I can’t.”

“Me, neither.” He swept her from the counter, shifting her weight until she was completely in his arms. He carried her as if she weighed nothing at all and headed out of the kitchen. He paused to turn off the light.

“Rich.” She had to say something before it was too late. “We’ll regret this in the morning.” Even as she spoke, she wound her arms around his neck.

“Maybe.” He didn’t bother to deny it, but it didn’t stop him, either.

Her bedroom was dark. Moonlight splashed through the open drapes, and Rich slowly lowered her onto the bed.

There was no turning back now.




Seven


They were silent afterward, their breathing labored, their chests heaving. Rich wished Jamie would say something. Anything. She didn’t, and slowly reality returned, inexplicably linked with the glory of what they’d shared.

Rich kissed her softly, gently, with none of the urgency he’d felt earlier. He slid his fingers into the silky length of her hair and sighed with satisfaction. He kissed her again, reveling in her warm, sweet taste. He longed for her to tell him she experienced no remorse over their lovemaking. He’d been so angry, such a jealous idiot, and one thing had led to another. Before he could stop it, they were making love. She’d warned him, claimed they’d be left with regrets, but he felt none. Only a powerful sense of honesty.




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