Нора Робертс - Suzanna’s Surrender

“So he cheated on you.” His voice was deceptively mild. “What did you do about it?”

She didn't turn around, but began to run water in the sink to wash the dishes. “You can't understand what it's like to be betrayed that way. To already feel as though you're inadequate. To be carrying a man's child and find out that you've already been replaced.”

“No, I can't. But it seems to me I'd be ticked off.”

“Was I angry?” She nearly laughed. “Yes, I was angry, but I was also...wounded. I don't like to remember how easy it was for him to shatter me. Alex was only a few months old, and Jenny hadn't been planned. But I was so happy to be pregnant. He didn't want her. Nothing he'd done to me before had hurt or shocked me the way his reaction did when I told him I was pregnant again. He wasn't angry so much as...irked.” She decided on a half laugh and plunged her hands into the soapy water.

“He had a son,” she continued, “so the Dumont name would continue. He didn't intend to clutter up his life with children, and he certainly didn't want to have to drag me around the social wheel a second time while I was fat and tired and unattractive. The most practical solution was to terminate the pregnancy. We fought horribly about that. It was the first time I'd had the nerve to stand up to him – which only made it worse. Bax was used to getting his own way, he always had. Since he couldn't force me to do what he wanted, he paid me back, expertly.”

Calmer now, she set the dish aside to drain and began to wash out the skillet. “He was still discreet publicly with his affairs, but he made sure I knew about them, and how sadly I compared to the women he slept with. He took my name off the checking and charge accounts so that I had to ask him whenever I needed money. That was one of his more subtle humiliations. The night Jenny was born, he was with another woman. He made certain I knew about that when he came to the hospital so the press could snap his picture while he played the proud father.”

Holt hadn't moved. He didn't trust himself to move. “Why did you stay with him?”

“At first, because I kept hoping I would wake up beside the man I'd fallen in love with. Then, when I started to consider that my marriage was a failure, I had one child and was pregnant with another.” She picked up a cloth and began to dry the dishes. “And I stayed because for a long time, a very long time I was convinced he was right about me. I wasn't clever and witty and sharp. I wasn't sexy or seductive. So the least I could be was loyal. When I realized I couldn't even be that, I had to consider the effect on the children. They weren't to be hurt. I couldn't have stood it if dissolving my marriage to Bax had hurt them. One day, I suddenly understood that it was all for nothing, that I was not only wasting my life but probably doing more harm to Alex and Jenny by pretending there was a marriage. Bax paid little attention to his son, and none at all to his daughter. He spent a great deal more time with his lover than he did with his family.”

She sighed, set the dishes down. “So I hid my diamonds in Jenny's diaper bag and asked for a divorce.” When she turned, the weariness was back on her face. “Does that answer your question?”

Very slowly, his eyes on hers, he rose. “Did it ever occur to you, did it ever once cross your mind that he was inadequate, that he was a failure? That he was a spoiled, selfish bastard?”

Her lips curved a little. “Well, the last part certainly occurred to me. It also occurs to me that my little story is one – sided. I imagine Bax's view of our relationship would differ from mine, and not without some merit.”

“He's still pushing your buttons,” Holt said with barely suppressed fury. “So you're not clever? I guess anyone could manage to raise two kids and run a business. Dull, too?” He took a step toward her, only more furious when he saw her instinctive move to brace. “Yeah, I don't know when I've been so bored by anyone, but then most men are bored with women with brains and guts, especially when they're softhearted and hardheaded. Nothing puts me to sleep faster than a woman who'll sweat all day to make sure her kids are provided for. God knows you're not sexy. I just didn't have anything better to do last night than to spend it going crazy over you.”

He'd trapped her against the sink with his body and with an anger so ripe she could almost taste it. “You asked and I answered. I don't know what you want me to say now.”

“I want you to say you don't give a damn about him.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, his face close to hers. “I want you to tell me what I told you to tell me when I was inside you, when I was so full of you I couldn't breathe. You're mine, Suzanna. Nothing that happened before counts because you're mine now. That's what I want to hear.”

His hands slipped down to clamp over her wrists. Even as she opened her mouth to speak he saw the quick wince of pain. Swearing, he looked down and saw the bruises he'd already put on her. He jerked back as if she'd slapped him.

“Holt –”

He raised a hand to silence her, turning away until he could clear the red haze of fury from his mind.

He'd put marks on her skin. It had been done in passion and without intention, but that didn't erase them. By putting them there, he was no better than the man who had bruised her soul.

He jammed his hands into his pockets before he turned. “I've got things to do.”

“But –”

“We got off the track, Suzanna. My fault. I know you have to get to work, and so do I.”

So that was that, she thought. She'd bared her soul, now he would walk away. “All right I'll see you on Monday.”

With a nod, he headed for the back door, then swore, stopping with his hand on the screen. “Last night meant something to me. Do you understand that?”

She let out a quiet breath. “No.”

His hand curled into a fist on the screen. “You're important to me. I care about you, and having you here, this way, is...I need you. Is that clear enough?”

She studied him – a fist on the door, impatience in his eyes, his body rigid with passions she couldn't quite understand. It was enough, she realized. For now it was more than enough.

“Yes, I think it's clear.”

“I don't want it to end there.” He turned his head, and his eyes were dark and fierce again. “It's not going to end there.”

She continued to study his face, keeping her voice calm. “Are you asking me to come back?”

“You know damn well –” He cut himself off and closed his eyes. “Yes, I'm asking you to come back. And I'm asking you to think about spending time with me that isn't at work or in bed. If that doesn't spell it out for you, then –”

“Would you like to come to dinner?” He gave her a blank stare. “What?”

“Would you like to come to dinner, tonight? Maybe we could take a drive after.”

“Yeah.” He dragged a hand through his hair, not sure if he was relieved or uneasy that it had been so simple. “That would be good.”

Yes, it would be good, she thought and smiled. “I'll see you about seven then. Bring Sadie if you like.”

It wasn't candlelight and moonbeams, Suzanna thought, but it was a romance. She hadn't believed she would find it again, or want it. Flexing her back as she drove up the curving road to The Towers, she smiled.

Of course, a relationship with Holt Bradford was lined with rough edges, but it had its softer moments. She'd had a lovely time discovering them over the past few days. And nights.

There was the way he'd shown up at the shop once or twice, just before lunchtime. He hadn't said anything about the children, or her missing the routine – just that he'd come into the village for some parts and felt like eating.

Or how he'd come up behind her at odd moments to rub the tension out of her shoulders. The evening he'd surprised her after a particularly grueling day by dragging her and a wicker basket filled with cold chicken into the boat.

He was still demanding, often abrupt, but he never made her feel less than what she wanted to be. When he loved her, he loved her with an urgency and ferocity that left no doubt as to his desire.

No, she hadn't been looking for romance, she thought as she parked the truck behind Holt's car. But she was terribly glad she'd found it.

The moment she opened the door, Lilah pounced. “I've been waiting for you.”

“So I see.” Suzanna lifted a brow. Lilah was still in her park service uniform. Knowing her schedule, Suzanna was sure her sister had been home nearly an hour. As a matter of routine, Lilah should have been in her most comfortable clothes and spread out dozing on the handiest flat surface. “What's up?”

“Can you do anything with that surly hulk you've gotten tangled up with?”

“If you mean Holt, not a great deal.” Suzanna pulled off her cap to run her hands through her hair. “Why?”

“Right now, he's upstairs, taking my room apart inch by inch. I couldn't even change my clothes.” She aimed a narrowed glance up the steps. “I told him we'd already looked there, and that if I'd been sleeping in the same room as the emeralds all these years, I'd know it.”

“And he ignored you.”

“He not only ignored me, he kicked me out of my own bedroom. And Max.” She let out a hiss of breath and sat on the stairs. “Max grinned and said it was a damn good idea.” “Want to gang up tin them?”

A wicked gleam came into Lilah's eyes. “Yeah.” She rose then swung an arm over Suzanna's shoulders as they started up. “You're really serious about him, aren't you?”

“I'm taking it one step at a time.”