From New York With Love. Кэрол Мортимер
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moved overseas himself? Maybe…maybe he’d hitched up with someone new and was waiting for her to join him.
Oh God…
She had to put distance between them!
With a nonchalance she was far from feeling, determined not to give way to panic, she veered sideways, forcing her legs to carry her to the far side of the square, well away from Florian’s elegant tables, before turning and making her way back in the direction she’d come from. Tempted as she was to break into a run she resisted the urge, partly to avoid jolting baby Gracie awake, but mostly to avoid attracting attention. Simon’s attention.
Maybe he hadn’t recognized her. It was almost two years since he’d last seen her, and she wore her deep auburn hair short these days, in a smooth, head-hugging bob, with a few golden highlights to brighten it up. He’d only ever seen it long, falling over her shoulders in thick russet waves, or swept back in a ponytail. He’d loved to run his fingers through her hair—one of the reasons she’d cut it.
She’d also lost a lot of weight recently, due to her illness. Even before she’d fallen sick, she’d shed weight, too busy most of the time to eat properly and barely interested in food anyway.
“Excuse me.”
She felt a hand on her shoulder and knew instantly whose hand it was. Light as the touch was, could any other hand have this instant, electrifying effect on her, scalding her skin through her thin layer of clothing and sending shuddering shock waves through her body?
She turned, deliberately slowly, masking her features as she tried to still her wildly fluttering heart. Compelling blue eyes, sharpened by the sun, devoured her tense face.
“It is you.” He spoke in a quiet, velvet-edged tone, showing no visible surprise, as if they were old acquaintances who hadn’t seen each other in a while, who’d never suffered a common pain and grief, who’d never grown apart until there was nothing left between them. At the time she’d walked out on him, he’d barely been speaking to her, his eyes flat and remote whenever they’d come into close contact, a man in torment, coldly shutting her out, holding back the words of blame and anger he must have longed to hurl at her.
Now, two years later, his face was deeply bronzed, accentuating the intense blue of his eyes, and he looked amazingly toned and fit. How had he managed to get so tanned and superfit when he worked such long days, and often nights, too, in a brightly lit operating room? Did his hospital have a gym now, with suntanning facilities?
She felt his piercing gaze sear over her face, her hair, her far-too-thin body. “You look different,” he said. “Different, yet…just the same.”
“I’m far from the same.” She spoke sharply, unable to keep a tinge of bitterness from her voice. Oh yes, she was different. More battle-hardened, more in control of her emotions and her life, more determined than ever to reach her ultimate goal—a partnership in her highly respected law firm, which was all she had to look forward to now.
His dark-lashed blue eyes veered to the baby in the sling. They flared for a second, then died. “Yes…so I see.” The cold remoteness she’d last seen two years ago was back in force. “You didn’t waste any time replacing your child…or your lover.”
His scorn lashed her in two. Stung, she lashed back. “I see time hasn’t changed you in the least.” He was still as coldly distant and unfeeling as he’d been when she walked out on him two years ago. The realization brought an odd quiver of regret. Feeling the effect his touch still had on her, she’d hoped for a second…
Stupid of her. Futile. Nothing could ever heal the bitter scars of the past, could ever bring them back together…not after all they’d been through.
“I have to go,” she said bleakly. “I have someone to meet.”
“Your lover?” This time he caught her arm with just enough force to prevent her from walking off without having to forcibly break free. There was something else in his eyes now, a dangerous glint in the icy depths. Anger. A cold, deadly anger. “He can’t be your husband. We’re still married. You’ve never sought a divorce.”
Neither had he, but she didn’t say it. “Marriage isn’t high on my list of priorities anymore,” she said, her voice tight. She’d never even considered divorce, knowing she’d never want to marry again—or, at least, never want to marry any other man. Though if he’d demanded a divorce…
“No…it never was, was it?” His own voice held a note of weary resignation, though his broad shoulders were stiff with tension, as if that icy anger still simmered below.
She recoiled at the harsh words, hurt piercing her at the reminder that they’d only married because he’d made her pregnant, the legacy of their last rapturous night together in Venice four years ago. It was something they hadn’t expected would happen, naively hoping it wouldn’t happen after only that one time…even after finding that the condom he’d used that night had split.
Attracted as they’d been to each other, they’d been virtual strangers at the time, both immersed in their high-powered careers, blazing ambition driving them equally—she striving to reach the top of her field in a male-dominated corporate law firm, he determined to be the best in his own demanding field of neurosurgery. Neither had been ready for marriage or commitment, let alone children. Finding herself pregnant after returning to Sydney from Venice had come as a shock. She’d only called Simon because she’d needed someone to confide in after making the difficult decision to keep the baby. Even though he was working in New York at the time, she’d felt it was right that he, as the child’s father, be aware of the situation.
“You only married me because I insisted on coming back to Australia and giving our child a name and two married parents,” the deep, relentless voice went on. “I’m not even sure you would have gone ahead and had the baby if I hadn’t persuaded you to marry me.”
She jerked back, horrified that he could believe such a thing. Her heart cried out to him. No! I’d already fallen in love with you, Simon, even though we barely knew each other! Having already decided to keep the baby by then, she’d hoped he would stand by her, though it had come as a shock when he’d asked her to marry him. That had been the last thing she’d expected, after what he’d said in Venice about not being ready for marriage or children, wanting to reach the top of his specialized field before settling down. After she’d said the same thing. She’d hesitated at first, but when he’d refused to take no for an answer, she’d surprised herself by agreeing to marry him, knowing in her heart, after only that short time together in Venice, that she’d found the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
Simon had been her rock back then. He’d given up his work at the hospital in New York and returned to Sydney to be with her, taking up a post at a top Sydney hospital. He’d supported her through her pregnancy and made it possible for her to keep on working after the baby arrived. A daily nanny and a housekeeper twice a week had allowed them both to keep on working at the same frenetic pace, each determined not to allow a baby, even a much loved baby, to disrupt their high-flying ambitions.
Now, forcing herself to look into his eyes—coldly glinting and remote as they were—she said evenly, “There was never any question of not having the baby, once I knew I was pregnant. I—I would have managed somehow.” But as a struggling single mother, what would have happened to her lofty hopes of a partnership and a brilliantly successful career at the top of her elite field? And oh, how her father, back in Queensland, would have crowed as it all crashed down around her! I told you you’d never make it. Careers are for men, love, not for women. Women belong in the home. Mothers belong at home with their children.
“But you didn’t have to manage on your own, did you?” Simon reminded her tonelessly. His hand had dropped to his side. “I flew back from New York and we got married. But marriage didn’t change your life, did it, Annabel? Having a baby didn’t change anything. You didn’t even change your name. Your career still came first. Never our marriage.” Or me, he might as well have added.
She almost moaned aloud.