Made For Each Other (17 page)

She could not continue to live off her
parents. She was a grown woman . . . more than that, she was a
mother-to-be. She had the baby to think about now.

She would have to get a job.
Secretarial positions paid relatively good salaries in Dallas. And
she needed to find an apartment. She thought of her novel and knew
it would have to wait. She had responsibilities now.

The chill that was creeping into the
car reminded her that the afternoon was getting later and she
should be returning to her parents’ home. She would have to tell
them they would soon be grandparents—and Granny would be a
great-grandmother. What would the irascible old woman have to say
about that? she wondered.

The old woman laid her napkin beside
her dinner plate and chuckled. “That Nicholas Raffer didn’t waste
any time, did he!”

Her mother rolled her eyes at the old
woman’s candor but had to laugh. “That’s wonderful, Julie!” she
said when she had regained her breath. Now her eyes watched Julie
carefully, trying to gauge her daughter’s reaction to the
news.

Her father set down his glass of tea.
“It’ll take some time getting used to the idea,” he said slowly.
“It seems like only yesterday you were tagging after me on the
river bank.” He smiled tenderly at her. “How about making it
another girl just like you?”

She had to laugh. “I’m afraid I have
nothing to do with that, Dad. The father determines . . .” She
broke off, unable to finish.

“Julie,” her mother said, “we love you
and want only your happiness. But don’t you think Nicholas has a
right to know about the child—after all, he’s just as much the
parent of the baby as you are. You’re being unfair to
him.”

Tears stung her eyes. “I don’t know
what’s the matter with me,” she whispered. “I seem to be so weepy
all the time now.”

“I know what’s wrong with you,” her
mother said gently. “You’re pregnant. Julie, you’re welcome to stay
here as long as you want. But this is a special time you should be
sharing with the baby’s father. Put aside your pride and go back to
him.”

She wadded up her napkin. “Mom, I
can’t! Now more than ever. I wouldn’t want him to take me back just
because I’m carrying his child!”

“It’s all right, Julie,” her father
said, seeing that the mere talk of Nick upset his daughter. “We
won’t interfere, I promise. We’ll abide by whatever decision you
choose to make.”

She put off apartment hunting until
she had found a job and received her first paycheck. Realizing that
most employers would not want to hire a woman who would soon be
taking off to have a baby, she decided to take a job with one of
the temporary employment agencies until after the baby was old
enough for her to go back to work full time.

Sometimes she would look in the mirror
at her concave stomach, and it was difficult for her to believe she
actually carried a child inside her . . . if it were not for the
persistent nausea and the memory of the nights of love that she had
spent in Nick’s arms.

She tried not to let herself wonder
what woman was in his arms now, but she kept seeing Sheila
Morrison’s haughty face looking seductively into Nick’s blazing
blue eyes.

That first week that she worked seemed
like the worst in her life—with the exception of the week she had
left Nick. The first three days she worked for a small insurance
company whose secretary was on vacation. And the last two days she
replaced an oil firm’s secretary who had eloped and not returned to
work.

She did not know which was worse—
repulsing the passes made by her boss, who had no idea he was
flirting with a mother-to- be, or choking back the nausea that
threatened to rise in her throat throughout the day.

The pills the doctor had given her did
not seem to be helping to relieve the nausea very much, and every
day she wondered if she would have enough energy to fight the heavy
Dallas traffic and make the long drive back to Little
Elm.

It was during one of those long drives
back that she castigated herself. She had to be the world’s biggest
fool. To be married to a senator and carrying his child . . . she
could have anything she wanted. If not from him, then from the law
courts. No more drudgery in Cement City, and she thought of the
beautiful, cozy home out on the high scenic desert of New
Mexico.

And she thought of Nick—the man, not
the senator—and her pulses began to race with the old desire that
her love for him inflamed in her heart. She was a fool seven times
over—and she would probably be a fool the rest of her life, but she
would not force herself on a man who did not love her.

At least spring would soon arrive, she
thought as her gaze noted the hint of green creeping into the brown
yards that bordered the street where her parents lived. Surely her
spirits would liven up with the arrival of beautiful
weather.

As she approached her parents’ home,
she slowed her car, noting the strange auto¬mobile parked at the
curb. Then her heart lurched with the realization the car was
Nick’s Blazer!

She turned into the driveway and
switched off her car’s ignition. She sat behind the steering wheel,
shaking. Had Nick tracked her down because she had brought disgrace
on his head when she deserted him ... or, worse, had he come
because her parents had summoned him?

She laid her forehead against the
steering wheel, wishing with all her soul that she did not have to
go inside and face Nick Raffer. What a formidable opponent! But she
knew that sooner or later the matter of their divorce would have to
be settled, and at least now it would be done on her home
ground.

She looked in the rearview mirror. Her
green eyes sparkled with the challenge. In fact, her whole body
positively radiated. Her mother had told her that the special
beauty came with the bloom of pregnancy. She ran her fingers
through her luxuriant dark hair, which seemed to be silkier and
thicker, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of the rust-colored
linen sheath dress she wore so that the cleavage of her breasts,
ripening with pregnancy, was visible. She wondered why she was
going to all this trouble, but told herself she would feel better
prepared to battle the more confidence she had in
herself.

As she walked up the sidewalk to the
veranda, her knees were trembling so badly she thought she was
going to either have to remove the high heels she wore or fall flat
on her face. To make matters worse, the doorknob would not even
turn, so slippery was her hand with nervous
perspiration.

The door gave and Nick stood there—his
dark face just as self-contained as ever, so that she could not
tell what kind of furious thoughts might be running through his
mind. She looked past him, but the living room was vacant, denying
her the support of her parents or grandmother. From the kitchen
came the sounds of her mother preparing dinner.

Julie’s gaze came back to Nick’s
penetrating blue eyes. She wanted to make her feet move, but they
would not, and she had to clutch the door to steady herself.
“Nick,” she breathed. “It’s nice to see you.” Where had all the air
gone? Was that why her voice sounded so strange to her
ears?

“Is it?” Nick asked, and she knew that
if she had the strength she would have turned and run from those
mocking eyes. But Nick did not even give her the chance. He took
her elbow. “Please come in—it is your house . . . or your
parents’,” he said pointedly.

His touch weakened her even further,
and she withdrew her elbow as soon as it was politely possible and
crossed to the rocking chair. “Please sit down,” she said, trying
to muster a calmness she did not feel.

Nick did not take a seat in the easy
chair she had indicated but remained standing, his thumbs hooked in
the belt loops of his jeans. Except for the smoothly shaven jaw he
looked much the same as the first time they had met.

“I suppose you’re here to discuss our
divorce,” she said and rushed on. “I had planned to see a lawyer as
soon as I received my first pay—”

Nick’s hand caught her arms and jerked
her to her feet. “Hell, no, I’m not here to discuss our divorce!
I’d like to throttle you right now, but I’m taking you back to
Santa Fe with me, Mrs. Raffer. Your home’s there, not living with
your parents!”

“I suppose my parents called you?” she
asked, fearing he knew her secret.

Nick’s dark brows met over the bridge
of his nose in an expression of confusion. “No, they didn’t. It
would have helped if they had. You can’t imagine what you’ve put me
through, not to mention the trouble it took to track you
down!”

She pulled away from the wrath on
Nick’s face. “I—then why do. you want me to go back with you? I
don’t understand. There’s no longer any reason to protect my
virtue,” she said caustically. “And now that I’m not there to cause
you any trouble, you’re free to divorce me and—and marry her . . .
Sheila.”

She was having trouble keeping the
anguish out of her voice. Just the sight of Nick, so tall and
ruggedly handsome, his presence dominating the room, was enough to
make her lose the tight hold she was keeping on her self-control.
Another second of looking at those piercing, all-consuming eyes and
she would throw herself in his arms and rain kisses on that beloved
face.

“Sheila? What has all this to do with
Sheila?”

Her brows raised in surprise. “I
thought—Don’t you want to marry Sheila?”

Nick caught her in his arms again,
crushing her against his chest. His hand cupped her chin, forcing
her to raise her eyes to meet his. “Julie” he said huskily, “you
must believe me . . . there’s never been any other woman on my
mind—or in my heart—since the night I pulled you from your
overturned car. With your wily leprechaun face, you’ve possessed
me, so I could think of nothing else but you!”

“Me?” she asked, not really believing
she was hearing Nick correctly.

At last the mockery left Nick’s lips.
“Yes, you,” he said tenderly. “Your courage in the face of the
accident, your spirit in spite of your pain . . . they commanded my
admiration. And later your womanly body ... in my cabin . . . with
that wonderfully childlike virtue . . . the combination was
something I had never run up against in all my affairs with other
women.”

“But. . . but you and Sheila are so
well suited. I’m just a coun—”

Nick’s impatient kiss silenced her
confused protest, and she gave herself up to the flame of passion
that only Nick could ignite. His mouth crushed hers as if he could
not get enough of her. At last, when she felt as though molten lava
surely poured through her feverish body, Nick released
her.

“Don’t you see, Julie,” he said with a
tender smile, “we were made for each other . . . from our love of
the outdoors to politics, even though we don’t always agree. That’s
what makes knowing each other interesting.”

“But I thought you didn’t like me,”
she said, reveling in the exquisite feeling of his strong arms
about her waist.

“And I thought you hated me. So there
seemed no other way to court you but to pressure you into marriage.
Dee’s call gave me the opportunity . . . which I sorely regretted
for so long afterward.”

Her breath caught deep in her lungs,
still fearful that this might be a scheme of Nick’s retaliation.
“Why?”

“Because being married to you—and not
being able to have you—was worse than any kind of torture the
Indians could have devised. And to see you in Jim’s arms the night
of the governor’s ball and later him holding your hand in the
restaurant—at that moment I would have gladly killed him and gone
to prison for the rest of my life. Then, when you began to spend so
much time with him on that project, I almost gave up hope of your
ever coming to love me.”

Her hand slipped up to caress Nick’s
square-cut jaw. “But, darling, I tried to tell you that Jim meant
nothing to me.”

“I know that now. But for the longest
time after you left I thought you had gone to him. I told myself
you deserved the opportunity to be happy with Jim. I read the Sun
every day, searching for your byline. When none of your scathing
articles appeared blasting me, and later when no divorce papers
came, I began to get suspicious.

“I called the newspaper, and the
personnel department told me you had left—with no forwarding
address. Let me tell you, love, even with the information resources
I have, it was hard trying to trace you down. I remembered you
telling me in Cozumel you lived somewhere in Texas, but I couldn’t
recall where. Then I remembered your friend Pam, and I thought if
anyone might know she would.”

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “I
made Pam swear not to tell anyone where I went!”

Nick smiled. “She was reluctant at
first. But I managed to persuade her of my sincere intentions of
good will toward you. She finally gave me your parents’
address.”

His hands came up to catch either side
of her temples, his fingers winding themselves in her long hair.
“Julie, tell me that you love me, also,” he commanded. “Put me out
of this misery.”

She stood on tiptoe, her arms sliding
up to encircle Nick’s neck. “Oh, Nick, I’ve loved you since that
first night you so thoughtfully took off my tennis shoes.” She
kissed his lips lightly and said, “Shall I tell you
more?”