Emily's Daughter. Linda Warren
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she admitted, knowing that Becca was stronger than she ever hoped to be. Her mother would never be able to force Becca to do anything against her will. Becca was strong-willed and stubborn, and she had her own views on everything. Emily had never been that opinionated or unyielding. She was weak…weak and…
Don’t think about the baby. Don’t think about her now.
“I’ve got to run,” she said in a detached voice. “Is there something you wanted to see me about?”
Again he was thrown by her coolness. She clearly had no interest in talking to him. Had his callous behavior almost two decades ago destroyed any chance of their having a normal conversation?
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I wanted to talk about old times. Maybe take you to dinner.”
A paralyzing fear gripped her, and she fought to maintain her composure, her control. Jackson Talbert wasn’t getting to her again. Talk? Dinner? Absolutely not! She had to escape from him as quickly as possible.
“I’m sorry, I’m too busy, but it was nice seeing you again,” she lied, moving resolutely toward the door.
“Emily?”
Against her will, she halted. It was the way he said her name—soft and persuasive with a deep, husky nuance. It was the same way he always used to say it on the beach, before his lips claimed hers…before he’d kiss her into oblivion…kiss her into forgetting everything but him. How could a voice, a sound, obliterate years of pain, years of hating Jackson Talbert? She didn’t know, but just like that, she felt herself being pulled toward him.
“Aren’t you curious about why I never came back?”
Those words held her spellbound and suddenly she desperately wanted an answer. She turned slowly around.
“Yes, I am,” she said, and she wondered if that low, aching voice was hers.
He smiled and her stomach tied into a painful knot of pure need—something she’d never experienced with any other man. What was she doing? she asked herself. Walk out that door and don’t look back.
Go. Go. Go.
But her feet didn’t move.
Something stronger than herself kept her rooted to the spot. All these years she’d believed that he’d simply used her for a good time, a vacation fling—but maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d had a reason for not returning to her, for not calling. She needed to find out—for her own sanity. She needed to justify what had happened back then. If she could do that, maybe the dreams would stop…. Maybe she could let the memory of her daughter go.
“Good. There’s this little Italian restaurant I go to when I’m in town,” he was saying. “It’s not far from the medical center.” He checked his watch. “We could be there in less than twenty minutes.”
She gripped her purse strap, knowing she was about to take a step that could change so many things. Was she ready? She swallowed. “I really have to go to the hospital first,” she told him. “I can meet you there in two hours.” To her surprise, she made the decision quickly and easily.
“Two hours?” He frowned. “That long?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t rush my patients. I try to be attentive to their needs.”
“The dedicated doctor.” He smiled again.
She didn’t respond.
He reached for a pen and pad from her desk. He scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “That’s the address and my cell phone. Just in case you get tied up.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see you at the restaurant,” he said, and walked through the door.
She stared at the paper and began to question her decision. She didn’t need two hours at the hospital. Seeing Mrs. Williams wouldn’t take that long. She wanted to go home and shower and change into something more feminine, more… She was having dinner with Jackson Talbert, Emily reminded herself with a sense of panic. The father of her child. She couldn’t help wondering how he’d say her name if she told him that. She shuddered. It was her secret, and after tonight she’d never see Jackson again.
She’d only accepted his invitation because she had to hear his version of the past, his explanation for disappearing from her life. Then she could put Jackson out of her heart forever. As long as she remembered that, she’d be fine.
SHE SPENT LONGER at the hospital than she’d planned, and barely had enough time to shower and change. She went through her closet repeatedly before she decided what to wear. For someone who was seeing Jackson only once and only to hear about the past, she was a little too excited, too eager. She tried to curb those feelings, without success. She felt seventeen again and she knew that tonight was a bad decision, but it was too late to do anything about it. Or was it? She could just not show up and let him get a taste of what it was like to wait for someone who was never coming. Oh, yeah, that would be sweet revenge. She chewed on her lip and had to admit she wasn’t out for revenge. She’d gotten beyond that, thank God. Now she just needed answers…about the past.
She gazed at herself in the mirror. She had on a pale pink vest with turned-up collar and a long maroon skirt that whispered around her ankles. Her dark hair hung loose to her shoulders and her makeup was simple—some mascara and liner, a slick of lip gloss. With her olive complexion she didn’t wear much, but in the evenings a little helped. At least it eased the tiredness in her eyes.
Noticing the clock, she realized she had to hurry. She slipped on a pair of sling-back heels and headed for the door. Traffic was a nightmare, as always, but she made it on time. Jackson was already there and she was shown to his table. The restaurant, which was unfamiliar to her, was small, but had a warm, pleasant atmosphere with its linen tablecloths, candlelight and soft music. Wine bottles and glasses seemed to be everywhere, and green plants adorned the nooks and crannies.
Jackson stood as she reached the table. She saw that he too, had changed. He now had on a dark blue suit and a crisp white shirt that emphasized his lean good looks.
He smiled, taking in her new appearance. For a moment he was speechless. He had known the young, enticing Emily, and today he’d met the professional Emily, but now he was staring at Emily, the woman. Wow was all he could think. She was dressed to perfection; even her makeup was flawless. He remembered she’d rarely worn it back then. With her coloring she didn’t need adornment, but tonight it was perfect, setting off her beautiful face and dark eyes.
Those glorious eyes—he never tired of gazing into them. They used to be tantalizing and bright, but now they held shadows, shadows he knew nothing about. Maybe her life hadn’t been all that rosy. His certainly hadn’t. A lot of things had happened in the intervening years…. But none of them would be discussed tonight. They—
He pulled himself up short. He was reacting as if he and Emily had a future. After tonight they’d probably never see each other again. Somehow he didn’t feel good about that.
He wanted to tell her why he hadn’t come back and she wanted to listen. He was aware that she had ambivalent feelings about him and, if nothing else, he had to set the record straight. She still might not understand, but at least she’d know the truth.
“I ordered wine,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure,” she answered as the waiter handed her a menu.
She inhaled deeply, trying to gather enough strength to get through this.
Jackson approved the wine, and the waiter poured it into glasses that sparkled in the candlelight. “Are you ready to order, Mr. Talbert?”
Jackson put down his menu. “House salad and linguine for me, Carlo, as always, but the lady might need a moment.”
“No, no,” she said promptly. “I’ll have the green salad—vinaigrette on the side. Roasted garlic chicken breast with pasta—no