Bare Devotion. Geri Krotow
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her gut that Deidre wasn’t mentally ill, just batshit mean. Deidre was a catalyst to her decision to jilt Henry, but she hadn’t been the reason. Her reason to back out of their wedding at the last minute was far deeper, and more basic.
Like Henry had said, he hadn’t been totally upfront about how rough his relationship with Deidre was. And unbeknownst to him, she’d never revealed the burden she’d been unwilling to carry. The burden of making Henry completely break from his family and legal legacy for her. It wouldn’t have even been his decision—his parents would have cut him off without a further word. Which made their appearance at the rehearsal dinner and wedding all the more damning. They’d come as a reminder to her, to make sure she knew what she was doing by knocking over the dominoes with her “I do.”
“Hey, watch it!” The yell coincided with a harsh blare as a delivery truck roared around her, making her skirt flutter around her calves. She blinked and realized she’d stepped off the curb a few seconds before the green light.
Sonja had been doing a lot of this lately—drifting off into the last few months with Henry, replaying each conversation and interaction with his parents. It was wearing her out from the inside. She promised herself to focus on today. To let go of the past and put her energy toward her singular problem, or rather, surprise. She was going to be a mother. The fact that it was also the most miraculous thing to happen to her made it all the more complicated.
She’d have to tell Henry soon. He had a right to know that his ex-fiancée and runaway bride was pregnant. It’d be on her time, though. Especially after he hadn’t allowed her to get a word in edgewise this morning, when she would have told him outright. She reminded herself that she no longer had any obligation to tell him anything until she was ready. Even that he was a baby daddy.
She pushed the office door open and stepped into the firm’s lobby, still too early for clients, but Alesia, bless her, had her usual warm smile on the ready along with the pile of mail from the past three weeks that Sonya had been out of the office.
“Good morning, Sonja.” Whoa. Alesia’s usual chipper countenance had been replaced by a grim shadow of herself.
“Hi, Alesia.” Sonja heaved her leather tote onto the tall counter and sifted through the envelopes. “How have you been?”
“Oh, same old same old.” Alesia didn’t meet her eyes. Hell. Better get it out there and squash the hot mess now.
“Look, I know that recent events have been unusual, but my breakup from Henry is purely personal. It won’t affect my work here, or your office environment. I think you know me well enough to know I keep work professional.”
“It’s not you, Sonja, or the job.” Alesia fidgeted with her skirt, part of a silky cream fit and flare dress with tiny rosebuds embroidered on a vine along the side and bodice. And then she raised her gaze from the stack of case files, and her liquid brown eyes swam with tears as she looked straight in Sonja’s. “It’s Henry. You look, um, fine. He’s not been feeling himself since you, I mean, since, since—”
“Since I left him at the altar. Is that what you mean to say?” Calm, detached, the way she’d practiced. The way she’d wanted to be back at the house. Deidre wasn’t the only one with her sights on Henry. And why shouldn’t he have women falling at his feet? He was successful, kind, loving, and newly single.
She ignored the twist of regret. Ending their marriage before it began, while brutal, had been her best option.
“I’m not saying that, Sonja. It’s just—”
“Exactly what you did, Sonja. You left me at the altar.” Henry spoke from the other side of the entryway.
Sonja jerked, her stomach heaved, and she grabbed the high counter surrounding Alesia’s desk. She lifted her chin and braced herself for the censure, the reproach, the curiosity she expected in Henry’s expression. Son of a bayou bitch, it was as if she hadn’t already faced him down a couple of hours ago.
When their eyes met he looked every bit the easygoing charmer who he’d become with her. Startled, she threw him her best glare. He hadn’t reverted back to the tight-ass, born-with-a-silver-spoon-in-his-mouth lawyer he’d been when she’d joined the firm five years ago. Just as in their destroyed home, he gave off a different energy. The familiar sensual heat didn’t radiate from his eyes. A twinge of sorrow hit her in the middle of her rib cage and caught her off guard. A reminder of how easy it had been to fall for Henry.
She’d been hired by his father almost four years ago. She’d watched his interest in her flicker on and off for three months before he’d read her mind, somehow seen her daydreams, and finally asked her out. And taken her to bed, the devout attention to detail he was known for in the courtroom turned on completely for her, to her, making her feel things and do things she’d never thought of. Or at least, never thought of doing sober, in broad daylight, like the time he’d taken one of his brother’s boats out into the bayou and bent her over the wheelhouse rail, taking her with raw need and heat. It had been worth the mosquito bites.
She shook her head, needing the physical motion to release the memory. “Good morning.” The two words were all that separated her from giving in to her desire to run or stay and stand her ground like the strong woman she’d thought she was. The woman who’d never have let Henry’s parents talk to her the way they did, who’d have paid heed to the warning signs that a marriage to Henry Boudreaux was never going to work. The woman who would have seen the evidence in front of her that there was a major trust issue going on.
“Sonja.” Henry graced her with one more scorching appraisal before turning to Alesia with a warm smile. “We’ll need lunch catered for the McNeely account, main conference room. Sonja, Rick, and I will sit in, and there are six attending from their team.”
Sonya’s head buzzed with the drone of Henry and Alesia’s conversation. She walked off to her office, unable to pretend that each time she had to deal with Henry was anything less than it was.
Cataclysmic.
* * * *
Henry had expected a huge surge of exultation at her shocked expression. It was what he’d intended to do. Shake her out of her professional composure, throw her off her damned too-sexy heels and let her know that she hadn’t affected him at all. He didn’t care if he’d made her throw up just hours ago. And he was grateful she’d fled their vows. The marriage had been a bad idea from the start. Living together had worked; why had they pushed it to the altar?
Why did you push it to the altar?
He stifled a groan.
“Do you want me to get the usual mix of wraps or something more local for lunch?” Alesia’s attention was completely on him, and he’d barely heard her request.
He wanted to give in to his snide alter ego, the energy that had kept him moving forward through the hell that had become his life since Sonja left him a jilted groom only a little over three weeks ago.
“You decide. Your judgment is impeccable.” He flashed Alesia the grin that had opened doors for him all across Southern Louisiana, throughout the New Orleans courts, even without his family name.
The grin that had initially drawn Sonja to him three and a half years ago, if what she’d told him was the truth. If she’d fallen for him at first sight, as she’d said. If her heart had really skipped a beat and she’d gotten the hiccups because her soul had “recognized” him. They’d been in this same office, Sonja sitting opposite his father as the senior Boudreaux interviewed her. She’d been sipping on a cola and showed zero signs of nervousness. And the way her eyes had sized him up had made him hard on the spot. Her expression had been priceless when that loud hiccup erupted from her mouth, her sexy as sin lips puffing, and all he’d been able to think about was how badly he needed to touch her, kiss her, have her.
She’d said it was love at first sight for her. That Henry was it. He let out a grunt of frustration. He’d never forgive himself for his own fucking stupidity. Nothing she’d said or done had been the truth, it turned out.
He