Behind Her Smile (21 page)

“Why, Karolina, you are glowing this evening,” he murmurs as I draw closer.

Isn’t that what happens with you are carrying a child?
The thought fills me with warmth.

I falter a step. It would be a weight off my shoulders to share my news with someone, but David doesn’t know we’re going to have a baby. And the last time I brought up children with Alec, he practically disappeared from my life. No matter the tiny attraction I have to him, he’s still just a friend. Feigning clumsiness, I grin at Alec.

“That’s a lovely thing to say.” We don’t hug or kiss hello. For me, that kind of touching crosses a boundary. I’m not sure of Alec’s excuse. Perhaps, he has no desire to touch me. My heart sinks a little at the thought.

“It’s true.”

We sit opposite each other. Plastic menus are lying on top of each place setting, but I don’t need to look.

“I love this place. It’s been years since I ate here,” I tell him.

“Yes, I imagine it’s not up to the Morgan standards,” he says with what sounds like forced levity. “It’s one of my favorites, too.”

Hungrily, I take in his dark features and the sardonic twist of his full lips. It’s been many months since I’ve seen him and weeks since we last spoke. I’ve spent virtually every day under David’s rule. Locked into the schedule he created for me. All that control seems to have paid off for my husband because I’m pregnant.

A smiley, youngish waitress arrives at our table, sights set on Alec. “What can I get you to drink?”

Alec’s focus stays on me, not paying one breath of attention to the flirtatious waitress.

“Iced tea for me, please.” I tilt my head up to watch her gaze hungrily rove over Alec’s handsome features. I don’t blame her for wanting him. Even I admit the man is gorgeous.

“La Capitana.” Alec names a local craft beer without taking his eyes off me. Realizing it’s a losing battle, the waitress flounces off in a huff.

Alec drums his fingers on the tabletop, assessing me. Eventually, he says, “There is something different about you tonight.”

The waitress arrives at the moment I’m about to answer, placing our drinks on the table. “Know what you want to eat?” she asks shortly.

Alec nods to me, and I cast my order first. Once the waitress departs, he settles into the black cushion, one arm still casually tapping an unknown beat on the table. “What’s put you in a good mood?”

“Have you ever had a dream buried so deep inside you that you didn’t know it existed? As you get older, the dream starts to reveal itself to you, bit by bit. Until one day, you wake up and realize that this big thing has been waiting your entire life to realize. Then you have nothing left but to seize the dream, fight with all you have to get what you know is destined to be yours.” Shaking my head, I can’t help but smile. “I must sound crazy and incredibly vague. There’s something attainable that I want. And I just realized how deeply I want it. Do you know what I mean?”

The beat on the table is quiet. Alec’s fingers coil into a fist. He watches me with unblinking eyes. “I know exactly what you mean.” His deep voice is lower than normal.

“One day soon I’ll tell you everything,” I promise.

As if coming out of a trance, Alec blinks then lifts his drink. “To realized dreams.” He catches me in one of his unrelenting stares. Without breaking the connection, I lift the cool glass and clink it against his.

“To realized dreams,” I repeat in a whisper.

I thought I was talking about the baby growing inside me. I thought I was talking about the dream of a family. And to a certain extent, that’s the dream I am talking about. But my husband doesn’t look at me with love shining in his expression. Most of the time, he reminds me what a disappointment I am to him. All my worries would disappear if my husband thought I hung the moon instead of embarrassing or enraging him at every misstep.

A flush spreads through my body, and I need another sip of iced tea to cool down.

“If I could, I would make all your dreams come true,” Alec says with so much sincerity that emotion tightens my throat. “Don’t say anything.” He presses a finger to my closed lips and then I remember why we don’t touch. The moment our skin connects, my entire body hums in appreciation. “Accept that I care for you,” he commands. When I nod my acquiescence, his finger disappears from my lips.

“I care for you too.” The more time I spend with Alec, the less I want to lose him in my life. I fear that this child will be the beginning of the end of our friendship. God, I don’t want to lose him, but my child is my top priority now. Higher than David, higher than myself.

The intimate moment breaks when the surly waitress arrives with our food. I tilt my face toward the heavenly sandwich and inhale deeply, steadfastly ignoring the question lurking in my mind.

How deep does that care go?

I flutter around the kitchen, anxiously checking the oven clock. David landed at the airport an hour ago. He should be home any moment. Somehow, I managed to keep my secret every time he called me.

I’m most worried about his reaction. With his volatile emotional state, I never know what David I am going to get. In my fantasy, David will be thrilled about the baby and maybe he’ll remember the beginning of our relationship when there was enough love to overcome whatever angered him. I know it’s a foolish dream, but dreams are all I have left.

Bang!
The front door closes with force.

He’s here.

David’s loafers clap against the floor. Meanwhile, Carlo ascends the staircase with David’s luggage. Earlier, I requested Carlo and Miranda make themselves scarce to give us privacy.

With a tremulous smile, I stand with my hands clasped underneath my belly, my back to the kitchen island. An unfamiliar man enters the kitchen. Yes, the golden aristocrat is my husband, but his shoulders slump in defeat and his hair is wild as though he dragged his fingers through the strands multiple times. Wrinkles of distress crease his forehead and crow’s feet I never noticed before bracket the corners of his eyes. For once, he is the one embattled and vulnerable.

“You’re home,” I breathe.

“Hello, Karolina,” he says wearily.

“How was your trip?” I ask tentatively.

“None of your concern,” he says tersely. “Where is Miranda? I need a drink.”

Swiftly, I whirl around to the island. Then I turn back and present him with a tumbler full of amber-colored Scotch.

David exhales loudly, and then moves forward to take the drink from my waiting hands. Terror fills me, but I need to push through. For my unborn baby.

“I have something for you.”

Slowly, he sips from his drink, eyes slipping closed as he savors the liquor.

“Hmm,” he murmurs non-committedly.

“If you could do me a favor and grab dinner from the oven?”

David’s brow furrows. Morgans don’t do housework. They hire staff to take on things like cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. I am not a Morgan by birth and thus, am used to housework. In fact, I rather enjoy cooking and doing things around the house because it gives me a small sense of accomplishment. But I don’t spend time in the kitchen because my husband believes it’s beneath my status. I refuse to pass snobbery like this on to our child.

“Please,” I add.

Still scowling, David places his drink on the counter and crosses the kitchen to the double oven.

“The top one,” I add.

He grasps the handle and pulls open the door, allowing a warm blast of air to enter the kitchen.

“What is this?” He examines the yeasty, garlicky item.

“A bun,” I hedge, second-guessing my lame joke.

The door snaps shut and David turns to fully face me. Gone is the exhaustion he wore like a heavy burden. Wonder settles into his features. “A bun in the oven?”

Shyly, I nod. He shakes his head slowly, teeth flashing with a transformative smile. “You’re pregnant?” He asks again as if he doesn’t understand what I’m trying to say.

“Three positive tests. I would have kept them, but that was kind of gross. My first appointment with Janet is on Monday.” With three long strides, David closes the distance between us and lifts me into the air. I squeal in surprise, laughing when he presses his face into my neck and nuzzles me there. His euphoria is contagious. I want to weep with relief. David is as thrilled as I am about this development.

“A baby,” he repeats, his breath hot against my skin.

“A baby,” I confirm.

He spins me around the room, twirling us until we’re both laughing and dizzy with love and possibility. For the moment, everything is right.

T
he china, cutlery, and stemware are in place for fourteen diners. A team of chefs prepares a four-course meal in the kitchen. Every inch of the house gleams in its cleanliness. Fresh flowers permeate the air with their gentle scents. My twist-front jersey Lanvin dress will camouflage my growing belly until the grand pregnancy reveal David has scheduled for dessert. The anxiety rolling through me makes me want to gnaw on my lower lip, but that would mess up the gloss and lipstick and that would upset David. Nothing can upset David tonight because this dinner is extremely important to his business. The dinner guests are some of Morgan Financial’s wealthiest individual clients and David’s top target, the Martinez couple. There are five couples joining David and me at the house tonight, and two single men. Alec Christos is one of them—my only friend, Alec, who doesn’t know about the pregnancy. I haven’t told him about the baby for fear that the news will hurt him. It is inevitable that he find out, I know this, but still, I don’t want to argue with Alec. And I’m terrified that when he finds out, it will be the end of our friendship.

Wringing my hands together anxiously, I finish my perusal of the dining room and walk into the great room to check on the volume level of the background music.

“Everything set?” David asks tersely, striding into the room. He looks the part of the immaculate, gorgeous financial whiz in a two-button Lanvin suit. David wanted us to wear matching designers tonight. Every detail carefully orchestrated.

“Ready to go.” I feign a sunny smile and David nods curtly in my direction.

The doorbell rings and saves me from dwelling on the sadness that David barely acknowledges my presence and the work I’ve done to put this evening together.

Multiple footfalls bring my attention to the room’s entrance. Suddenly, David is at my side, an arm wound around my waist. Hector and Adriana Martinez are the first to arrive . . . and Alec Christos appears not too far behind them. My stomach flips. A flush creeps up my neck, warming me from the inside out. Alec gazes at me intently, and I avoid a reaction, knowing David’s sharp attention won’t miss anything. I shift awkwardly until David’s fingertips dig into my hip painfully to halt the movement.

“Welcome,” he greets boisterously.

The show is on.

A moment later, Miranda bustles into the room to take drink orders and, thankfully, more guests arrive. As is usual with these events, smaller groups break out among the many people, and I find myself giving a tour to Adriana and another woman. We are walking into the house from viewing the backyard landscaping when I beg off to check on the progress in the kitchen. I skirt around the workers, heading to nab a sparkling water from the refrigerator.

“I need to speak to you.” A large hand clamps around my bicep, tugging me out of the kitchen in a hurry. Alec pulls me into the first room adjacent to the kitchen, which is David’s office. He shuts the door behind us firmly.

“What’s the matter?” I ask breathlessly. His onyx eyes are darker than usual. His nostrils flare as he appraises me. The soft exhale escapes his lips and brushes against my cheeks; we’re standing that close.

“Karolina . . .” He whispers my name like a prayer then shakes his head firmly. “I won’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” I should leave. Right now. This is playing with fire in the worst way. And normally, if I got burned, it would only be me I have to worry about, but now I have a baby to think about.

Alec closes the gap between us. He plows his fingers into my hair and then all rational thought disappears as he slams his lips on mine. The kiss is
wild
. I can almost taste his hunger. He nips at my lower lip until I welcome his deeper assault. Our tongues duel. My hands rise to grip the lapels of his jacket, drawing him closer to me. His passion does nothing to outshine mine. I can’t get enough of him.

All my pent-up attraction explodes with a fierceness I never knew I had in me. I suck on his lower lip. I urge him closer still. I want everything this man has to offer. His lips are heaven. His touch is divine. He moves to kiss the line of my jaw, the corner of my lips and then, wonderfully, his lips are on mine again. I whimper.
More.

This is what a kiss is supposed to be like.

Gasping for breath, I jump backward and cover my thumping heart with a hand. Reality sets in and self-loathing spreads over me like a wildfire. What have I just done? I’m married and pregnant, no less. The betrayal is staggering.

“That was a mistake.” I don’t sound as convincing as a married woman should.