Page 26 of Jack

Plucking two glasses of champagne from thetray, he handed one to Jack. "She's pregnant."

"And?"

"When she started an argument aboutsomething that should not have merited one, I told her hormones wasmaking her behave unreasonable."

"Ouch."

"Yes." Liam sipped the excellentchampagne moodily. "She kicked me out of our bed and then burstinto tears."

Jack smiled cynically. Having never beenmarried or have any intention of tying himself to a woman for therest of his life, he could not relate. "Buy her flowers, I hearit's the thing to do."

Liam eyed him with jaundiced eyes. "Sospeaks a man who has never had a long-term relationship."

"And extremely proud of it." Jackslapped him on the back. "How about that lovely painting overthere?" he pointed to it. "The artist is fairly new andshows signs of being a hit."

Liam followed his glance, a smile gleaming."It's perfect for my darling."

Chapter7

She sneaked out without telling anyonewhere she was going. It was early morning, the crack of dawn. The skywas streaked with blush rose, a streak of colors over the horizon.She had barely slept last night. The scene with Jack Hadley had herup and restless. She had gone past her place, allowing her temper toget the better of her like that. She had charged him like a liondefending her cub and she had felt fearless, and had not thought ofthe consequences. The man had the power to crush her like a bug.Them, she corrected grimly. It was not only her. It was her brotheras well and Zach had worked too damn hard to have his business go upin flames.

So, she had sneaked out and was now at thecemetery. They were buried side by side. Her father, bless hisgenerous and loving heart, had bought a spot so that he could be nextto his wife when he died. He was thinking of the ever after. Theuntil death and beyond. Oh, he had grieved. She had seen instanceswhen he would go into his own small space and mourn. He had lovedher, loved his Catherine. But to his benefit, he had never resentedthe fact that she had given her life to birth his children.

At least, not so that she had ever seen oreven felt. He had loved them, spoken to them of her, made sure thather part in their coming into the world was not forgotten. Hersacrifice. She brushed a hand over the headstone – first oneand then the other.

Her touch lingered over the glossy marble,coated with dust over the name of the woman she had never known.Growing up without a mother had taught her to be self-sufficient. Asmile ghosted her lips as the memories came crashing – fast andfurious. Instances where her brother had helped her with her hair –the thick unruly mass of it. When he had threatened to take ascissors to it. She had learned to braid and plait and sometimes inher frustration, drag the whole mess of it on top of her head andjust leave it like that.

Had he been a perfect dad? Not by a longshot. There were times when he imbibed a little too freely. But eventhen, even when he had had to sleep it off in the office at the bar,he had never been abusive. Even when he had neglected to buygroceries or cook a meal, forcing them to try and fend forthemselves, he would make it up by ordering pizza from Luigi's thenext day.

He would glance at their homework, with apuzzled frown and would be grateful when told that they could manageon their own. And they had. She and Zach had been there for eachother. Feeling the damn tears burning the back of her eyes, sheblinked them away. It was quiet, still as if even the air realizedthat she was having a moment and was willing to give her some space.

Sitting on her father's grave, she wrappedher hands around her knees and rocked back and forth. She blamed iton the situation with Jason Hadley and his jerk of a daddy. She felta tug of something for the kid. And acknowledged that her maternalurges were getting keener.

She wanted children. Wanted them with a manwho wanted them as well, who wanted her. She was tired of dating menwho just saw the outside of her and not the inner. Who just wanted atumble and nothing behind it. And she was tired of being wrong. Shewanted something substantial, a firing of the spirit, soul and body.

The morning air was crisp, carrying thescent of dew and earth, grounding her as she sat on the cold marble.She reflected on the legacy of strength and resilience her father hadinstilled in them, qualities that were now being tested in the faceof impending adversity. Gazing at the gravestones, she felt theweight of her responsibilities pressing down, yet a spark of hopeignited within her.

Determined to honor her father's memory andthe sacrifices her mother had made, she resolved to confront thechallenges ahead with unwavering determination. She knew that sheneeded to protect her brother's hard-earned success and safeguardtheir future. Rising from the grave, she brushed the last remnants ofdust from her clothes and took a deep breath, feeling the morning sunwarm her face.

Hugging the jacket around her, she took onelast look around before making her way out.

*****

His fingers brushed gently over her rosyskin. She had spent the night with him. And he still was unable torecover from the passion and intensity of what they had shared. Threetimes. He chuckled softly, careful not to disturb her. He had beengreedy for her and apologized morethan once. He had squelched the guilt as he wondered if he was takingadvantage of her vulnerability. But that had been ruthlessly buriedunder layers of emotions, passion so hot and dark that it hadpractically swallowed him whole.

And she had given as much as she received,opening for him when he entered her. His body quickened as herecalled how she had gripped him, hugged him until he felt as if hewould die from the pleasure of her. He could not go back. He had juststopped himself from blurting out his love for her. He would wait –as hard as that would be, he would wait for her to be ready. Liftinga hand, he brushed back tendrils of hair from her rosy cheeks. Shewas wrapped around him. Even in sleep, she wanted the contact.

The light streaming through the curtainsallowed him to examine her face. What a face, he thought, loveswelling inside him. All delicate bones and angles. Her skin was sofair, and he realized that he had probably bruised her in hiseagerness and hunger for her.

He had been like a boy with his first tasteof a very fine banquet after being hungry for weeks. He should havetaken his time. Funny, he had always dated women of color. He neverhad anything against white women, but he wanted to be loyal to hisown kind. Shaking his head at the irony, he brushed his lips on herforehead and hoped fervently that she would not wake with regrets.That he could not handle.

*****

Regret was not what she was about when sheopened her eyes and recalled the night's events. It had been toomeaningful, astonishingly so for her to wallow in regrets. For thefirst time in her life, she felt cherished, and it was something shewas going to have to examine at length, when she was alone.

She stirred and turned over to find himsitting on the edge of the bed with a cup of steaming coffee.

"What time is it?" She felt shyand just resisted tugging the quilt over her.

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