Adopt-a-Dad

CHAPTER SEVEN

MICHAEL WOKE to the smell of pancakes.

He lay for a moment in his stark white bedroom, sniffing the air, wondering if he was mistaken. Nope. Definitely pancakes.

There were pancakes being made in his kitchen.

How long since anyone had cooked in his kitchen? Shelby had when she was here. When was that-eighteen months ago? He’d eaten at home then, but mostly he ate breakfast down at her diner. The rest of his meals, too, come to think of it. He used the kitchen for making coffee and heating TV dinners.

But pancakes. Jenny was making pancakes?

What time was it? He lifted his wrist and inspected his watch. Seven-thirty. He stared at the dial as if it must be a mistake. What was she doing up?

It had been well past midnight when she went to bed. She should still be sleeping. He shoved back the covers and headed for the door-and then remembered that he wasn’t alone. Swearing, he grabbed his pants as a knock sounded on the door and it started to open.

He yelped and dived for the bedcovers.

Whether he’d made it in time or not, he couldn’t tell. When he turned to face his visitor, his sheet decorously up to his neck, she was in the room. A twitching muscle at the corner of her mouth and a twinkle lurking at the back of her eyes made him suspect that he hadn’t.

“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically, the twinkle growing. “I shouldn’t have disturbed you, but I’ve made you breakfast. It’ll spoil if it stays in the oven.”

But Michael was no longer focusing on breakfast-or on his modesty. What on earth was she wearing? He blinked, and blinked again. He was accustomed to Jenny in the plain navy or black shapeless dresses she wore to work. They looked like something out of the welfare bin from thirty years back, he thought grimly. He’d grown accustomed to the idea that his secretary spent no money and no time on her clothing.

But what was she wearing now? There’d been a pile of clothes in the bottom of her suitcase. This must have been among them. Traces of a previous life, he thought.

And the traces were stunning! She was dressed in bright crimson leggings, an oversize T-shirt that practically reached her knees, with crimson, purple, yellow and white stripes, and brilliant yellow trainers on her feet. With black laces!

Her shoulder-length curls, usually held demurely back, bounced happily in a ponytail, tied up with a huge crimson ribbon.

“What the…” She still looked pregnant-very pregnant-but she seemed about ten years younger. She looked amazing.

She looked gorgeous!

“You don’t wear clothes like that,” he said, and she grinned, bouncing over to put his pancakes on his bedside table. Her ponytail bounced in unison.

“I do. Well, mostly I do. In my past life I did. When I’m doing office work, when I’m eight months pregnant and when I don’t have any money to spend on clothes, then I don’t. I wear sacks that I make myself. But these leggings are Lycra. See?” She held up her T-shirt so Michael could see where the Lycra stretched to dangerous limits. He blinked again. “This is what I wore for jogging before I was pregnant. It’s the only outfit that still fits me, though whether or not it will after my baby’s born…” She looked thoughtful. “Maybe I’ve ruined my leggings, but I guess I can always wear suspenders.” She smiled happily at him, supremely unconcerned. “Anyway, I’m off. Here’s your breakfast.”

“You’re off?”

“For a jog.” She grinned. “Well, a joggle, more like. I’m not very fast and I’m not very elegant.”

“Are you supposed to be doing that?”

“Yep. Abby says so. There’s more pancakes in the oven if you want them. I’ve eaten six.”

“Six?” He was starting to sound inane, and Jenny was aware of it. She couldn’t know he was just plain dumb-founded.

“You don’t sound very bright this morning,” she said, peering at him anxiously. “Maybe I shouldn’t have woken you.” She looked at him with maternal concern. “You just eat your pancakes-there’s a nice cup of tea here, too-and then snuggle under the covers. I’ll come in very quietly when I return, so I don’t wake you.”

“Jenny.” Goaded, he started to throw the covers off, then thought better of it. Jenny chuckled.

“Very wise.”

“Wait and I’ll come with you.”

“Why on earth would you want to do that?” she asked in amazement. “It’s Sunday morning.”

“Why on earth would you want to do it?”

“That’s easy. It’s a gorgeous morning. The river’s calling. I’ve been so worried for the last few weeks that I’ve been making myself ill, but suddenly, thanks to you-” her smile softened so much it made his gut kick in “-I’m no longer worried. All’s right with my world and I’m off to feel the sun on my face.” She stooped, and before he knew what she was planning to do, she kissed him lightly on the forehead. Then she whisked herself over to the doorway, smiling at his baffled expression.

“Jenny,” he began.

“Yes?”

He stared. He stared at her some more. Then he stared at the beautifully prepared tray-the stack of pancakes, the maple syrup and whipped butter, the little teapot he hadn’t even known he had.

Then he stared at her, this stunning, laughing woman he hadn’t known existed under his staid, plain secretary.

“I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t get up when you started to cook,” he said at last, sounding pathetic even to himself. “I’m not much into domesticity.”

“Then that’s a pity, Michael,” she said softly, the twinkle still in her eye. He had an overwhelming impression he was being laughed at. “Because, like it or not, you’ve married into all the domesticity I can muster.”

FOR ABOUT fifteen minutes after she left, he stayed in bed. He ate his pancakes-well, he ate four and couldn’t figure out how she’d managed six-and then lay back and stared at the ceiling.

Sunday morning he usually joined up with a couple of buddies who were into basketball. Like him, they were cops or ex-cops. They shot a few baskets, had a couple of beers and shared some laughs, and generally reassured themselves that the bachelor life they led was exactly what they wanted.

Once upon a time there were a dozen or so guys who showed up. Lately he’d been thinking they were becoming an endangered species.

If he didn’t go, he told himself, they’d be even more endangered.

So why shouldn’t he go? He’d given Jenny a key last night. There was no need for him to stay here and wait for her to return. He could head off to the courts, and she could let herself in. There was no need to wait.

She shouldn’t be long.

He rose and showered-slowly-and dressed, and she wasn’t back yet.

He took his breakfast dishes into his pristine kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. He collected the newspaper and read a few headlines.

She still wasn’t back.

The guys would be waiting. They’d be on the court. He paced and swore.

She wasn’t back even then.

Okay, he’d just wander down the road, take the path by the river. Heck, it was as good for him to take a river walk as it was to shoot baskets, and the guys wouldn’t miss him this once.

He started walking. But since he was wearing runners, it wasn’t long before his feet started a jogging rhythm.

What if Gloria’s thugs had been waiting for her?

Logic told him he was being unreasonable. There was no way Gloria’s hired men would be lying in wait for her down by the river so early on a Sunday morning. There was no chance they could have guessed she’d go there.

But if they’d been driving by…

“You’re getting paranoid,” Michael said crossly, but his feet hastened their pace all the same, his jog turning to a run. Finally he could see the wide riverbank and…

She was there.

If there was one thing that could be said for yellow, crimson, purple and white stripes on a very pregnant lady, it was that they could be seen from a long way off. Jenny stood out like a striped beacon. She appeared to be…

Playing hopscotch?

She couldn’t be, Michael thought. But that was exactly what she was doing. “Home,” she yelled triumphantly. She was surrounded by a sea of little girls-half a dozen six-or seven-year-olds-and they had a hopscotch court marked with stones. They’d been egging her on. She held up her stick, triumphant, and waved. “You bet I couldn’t make it. How’s that for a pregnant lady?”

The girls fell into a fit of giggles, and an elderly lady rose from the park bench and clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful, my dear. But should you be jumping? I mean, the baby…”

“My baby’s jumping so much that his mother needs to get her own back.” She grinned at the girls, and then she caught sight of Michael, who just happened to arrive breathless. “Michael.”

He said the first thing that came into his head, and his first thought was the same as the elderly lady’s. “You shouldn’t be jumping.”

“Are you an obstetrician?”

“No, but…”

“Then I’m jumping.”

“Nope.” He reached her and pulled her away from the hopscotch court, then stood glaring into her laughing eyes. “Honestly, woman, have you no sense?”

She laughed at him, her face glowing with exercise and sunshine. The October morning was clear, with the promise of a gorgeous day to come. “I’m not feeling very sensible,” she admitted. “I’m feeling pretty happy right at this minute. Michael, this is Mrs. Eldbridge and her granddaughter Susan, and Susan’s friends, Lucy and Veronica and Louise and Carrie and Rebecca. It’s Susan’s seventh birthday, or it was yesterday. We’re still celebrating. Ladies, this is…this is Michael.”

“Is he your husband?” A child with a hole instead of a front tooth and two extremely long pigtails looked at him with interest. For the first time, Jenny faltered.

“Yes. This is my husband.”

“And your husband says you shouldn’t be playing hopscotch,” Michael growled, and the little girls giggled. They clearly didn’t think much of his ferocity, but they seemed to think Michael himself was just fine.

The little girls obviously thought he was a hunk, Jenny observed. Her husband.

Somehow she made herself concentrate on something other than his body. “Michael, I was thinking…”

He still held her. His hands were on her shoulders where he’d pulled her from the hopscotch court. She looked into his face and smiled, and suddenly she was too close for comfort. Way too close-but there was no way he was releasing her.

“Can we all come back to your-to our place for pancakes?” she asked.

That stunned him. “What, everyone?” He looked around the sea of expectant faces, and Jenny put an entreating hand on the collar of his shirt.

“It’s just… Mrs. Eldbridge lives in a one-room apartment with her granddaughter, and Susan really wanted a sleepover for her birthday party. So that’s what they had, but the girls woke up very early and there’s a man who sleeps in the apartment above who…who doesn’t like being woken up early and was rude.”

“He yelled awful things,” the little girl with pigtails said, wide-eyed.

“And the girls aren’t being collected by their parents until eleven, so Mrs. Eldbridge brought them down to the river. But she still has more than two hours to fill.”

He gave an inward groan. “Jenny, I don’t see…”

“We have enough to give everyone breakfast, don’t we?”

“I don’t think I do,” Michael said. “I mean we. For a start we don’t have enough plates.” For heaven’s sake, what was he saying? This was nothing to do with him. He didn’t want to be part of a child’s birthday party!

“Of course you don’t have enough plates,” Mrs. Eldbridge said. “That’s nonsense. We’re fine. We’ll keep walking, won’t we, girls? Let’s see if we can see some boats.”

The girls’ faces fell as one.

“I’ve walked enough,” one said sadly. “These are my party shoes.” She gulped, sticking one shiny red shoe in front of her. “Actually,” she said carefully, “they’re my sister’s party shoes, and they pinch my toes. They hurt.”

She looked at Michael with huge, mournful eyes, and Jenny gazed at him with eyes just as pleading. Cocker spaniel eyes. Eyes a man could drown in.

Good grief!

“We don’t have enough plates,” he repeated weakly. It sounded pathetic, even to him.

“We could share,” the little girl with the pinching shoes said.

No! The thought of a seven-year-old birthday party in his bachelor town house was almost claustrophobic. But every eye was on him, including Jenny’s. Clearly she’d offered hospitality, and she expected him to back her. He was wedged into a corner, and he said the only thing possible.

“Why don’t we go to Shelby’s?”

“Shelby’s?” Jenny was as confused as the children.

“My sister runs a diner. It’s not too far from here.” Yep. That’s what they’d do, he decided. After all, what use were sisters if they couldn’t bail you out once in a while? “Shelby makes the best breakfast.”

“You want to go to your sister’s diner?” She stared at him and then at her stripes. “Now?”

Hey, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, he realized, but he’d already suggested it, and the kids were looking as if they’d been offered Christmas. This wasn’t a privileged group, he decided. Most of the little girls looked as if they were dressed in hand-me-downs, and Susan, the birthday girl, was almost waiflike. She obviously lived with her grandma, and Grandma didn’t look as if there was any money to spare at all.

Okay. So Jenny’s heartstrings had been tugged, and he was expected to come to the party. He didn’t even know if Shelby would be at the diner herself.

“We’ll need two cabs,” he said in a voice that sounded more sure than he felt. He’d get this over with and then he’d give Jenny a very firm talking-to about what she should expect of him. Maybe it was okay for her to get involved, but she couldn’t involve him. He didn’t need this in his life. “We’ll take two cabs, and we’ll drop you back at your home at eleven.”

“There’s no need for you to do that, young man,” Mrs. Eldbridge said with quiet dignity. “The girls and I are just fine walking by the water until it’s time to go home.”

He should agree-but they were all looking at him. One elderly lady in a worn dress and six small girls with bright, expectant faces. And one Jenny.

All of a sudden it was easy. “There is a need,” he said, smiling at the elderly lady with his most heart-stopping smile. “It would be a real pleasure for Jenny and me to be included in Susan’s birthday. If you’ll permit us.”

She smiled then, a huge, relieved smile that almost made him glad he’d offered. “Well, young man. That’s so nice of you, you and your lovely wife. I’d almost forgotten that such nice young couples exist.” She beamed at Jenny. “You’re so lucky, my dear. He’s really special.”

Jenny beamed right back, and tucked her hand proprietorially around Michael’s arm.

“Don’t I know it?” she said. “I’m feeling luckier by the minute.”

SHELBY was at the diner.

It only took five minutes to get there by car. Michael and Mrs. Eldbridge went in one cab with three of the girls while Jenny and the other three followed behind in a second taxi. They assembled on the pavement, and Michael opened the door to usher them inside.

Shelby looked up from behind the counter-and nearly dropped the plate she was carrying.

“Michael,” she said, in a voice that sounded like she’d been hit with a hundred volts.

“Hi, Shel. What do you do in the way of birthday breakfasts?”

“Birthday?”

“It’s Susan’s birthday,” Michael told her patiently, in a voice that suggested she’d better treat this as normal-or else. He motioned to Susan. “Here she is. The birthday girl herself. I thought pancakes. Or doughnuts. Or…”

“Or both?” Susan said wistfully, staring around in appreciation at Shelby’s cozy eatery. The smells coming from the kitchen were mouthwatering, and Michael could see lights coming on in all the little girls’ eyes.

“Or both,” Michael agreed gravely. “Could you manage that, Shel? And maybe hot chocolate all around?”

“With marshmallows on top,” Jenny added from behind him, working up courage. She bit her lip. It wasn’t the time, in front of this birthday group, to admit she was meeting Michael’s sister for the first time. “Hello, Shelby.”

“Jenny,” Shelby said, dazed, her eyes wandering to the amazing stripes. “You’re…”

“Jenny and I met Mrs. Eldbridge, her granddaughter and their friends on the riverbank while we were jogging,” Michael said quickly.

“You were jogging?” Shelby could barely make her voice work as she tore her eyes from Jenny to stare at her brother.

“We were jogging.” His eyes dared her to say more. “Jenny invited everyone home for breakfast, but I thought there’d be more choices here. What do you think?”

There was silence while Shelby almost visibly gathered her wits.

“I do a very nice birthday breakfast,” she said at last. “I’m only here for a couple of hours before I need to leave for the wedding, otherwise I’d have missed this.”

“Very fortunate,” Michael said dryly, and his eyes met hers. Steel meeting steel. “Shelby…”

“Hot chocolates coming up,” she said faintly. “With marshmallows.” And then under her breath she added a rider. “Just as soon as I’ve phoned Lana and Garrett and told them to come over and take a look at this miracle.”

IT WAS A RIOT of a birthday party. Once she got over her shock, Shelby did them proud. After they drank their hot chocolate, she ushered everyone into the kitchen to flip their own pancakes. Once they’d eaten, they were each allowed two choices on the jukebox, and Jenny had them all dancing, much to the bemusement of Shelby’s other customers. After half an hour’s dancing she even had a few staid adults jiving their legs off.

A couple of interns from the hospital wandered in. They were given free coffee and directed to a seven-year-old partner. Michael, who was dancing with the birthday girl at Jenny’s direction, felt his mind spin at what his wife had accomplished.

Then there was the birthday cake. Rising nobly to the occasion, Shelby produced a snake of doughnuts in the shape of a huge S for Susan, with seven candles she’d found. Partied out, each little girl was finally ushered into a cab clutching a bag full of warm doughnuts for home.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Susan’s grandmother whispered as they filled the second cab with her charges. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Susan and I…well, we don’t have very much, but she wanted a birthday party so badly. This morning everything was going wrong.” She took Michael’s hands between hers and squeezed. “Your wife, she’s just the loveliest girl, and she deserves…well, you look after her, do you hear?” She gave his hands a last squeeze, cast a teary smile at Jenny and disappeared into the morning with her swarm of little girls.

Michael turned away to find Jenny watching him.

And Shelby.

And Lana and Dylan and Garrett and Greg. They were all out on the sidewalk, and every single one of them had big goofy grins on their faces.

“What the heck?”

“I thought they needed to come down and see,” Shelby said innocently. “Garrett was neck deep in wedding chaos, but even he had to come. I knew they’d never believe me if they didn’t see it for themselves.”

“How long-”

“We’ve been here half an hour,” Garrett said, grinning. “We’ve been in the back spying on you. You’re a great dancer!” He turned to Jenny. “So, I guess you’re Michael’s Jenny.”

“I…” She flushed. “I’m not…”

“You’re not?”

“I’m just Jenny,” she said simply.

“Nope.” Garrett shook his head. “You’re not Just Jenny.” His eyes were warm, and there was laughter lurking somewhere behind them. “If you can get my brother to put on a birthday party for a bunch of kids he doesn’t know-”

“That’s enough, Garrett,” Michael said roughly. “There was hardly a choice. Jenny was right. The kids were getting restless down by the river.”

“Yeah, and you’d have noticed without Jenny.”

“Anyone would.” Jenny took a deep breath, searching for courage. “You must be-”

“Garrett. Michael’s big brother.”

“Of course.” She gave him a shy smile. “You still look like your picture. Same red hair. Same big-brother look.”

“What’s a big-brother look?” he demanded, and Jenny’s smile widened.

“I guess sort of proud and worried, both at the same time.”

Garrett let his breath out. Whoa. “I think I just stopped worrying,” he told her, and reached forward to give her a hug of welcome, bulging stripes and all. “I think I stopped worrying right this minute. Welcome to the family, Jenny Lord.”

“Jenny Lord?” She cast a doubtful look at Michael. “Oh, yeah. I guess I am.”

“I guess you are,” Garrett told her. “And I’m wondering whether my little brother knows just what he’s let himself in for.”

BY THE END of the afternoon, he was beginning to find out.

They went to the wedding. Camille and Jake had decided they wanted a low-key affair-“just those we love in a place we love”-and there wasn’t a chance of Michael getting out of it.

“Jake’ll personally come and get you if you don’t show up, little brother,” Garrett told him. “And so will Camille. You’re part of their family, and Jenny’s your wife.”

Michael had cringed inside. He did not want to go. He had helped Jake defend Camille from her ex-husband, Vince, but the events of those few short months ago were still nightmare fresh. The shoot-out at Garrett’s cabin. The dreadful moment when he’d thought Garrett was dead. He should have prevented it, he thought savagely. He should have realized how desperate Camille’s ex-husband would be.

He hadn’t-and Garrett had been shot. The love that Camille and Jake shared had blossomed from that near tragedy, and the family had moved on, but for Michael it had been one more reason for self-imposed isolation.

And now, sitting beside Jenny, who looked lovely in the white dress Lana had borrowed for her, he felt so constrained he wanted to bolt for freedom.

The wedding ceremony started. Camille, exquisite in her beautifully embroidered gown of soft raw silk, gazed into Jake’s face with love and total trust, and she gave him the answers he so longed for with sureness and with pride.

“I, Camille, take you, Jake, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health…”

Michael looked away. He glanced at Jenny and found her expression as strained as he felt. She’d done this twice before, he thought. She’d married-and now Peter was dead. She’d made those vows again. To him. What had these new vows meant for her?

Had Peter looked at her the way Jake was looking at Camille?

Something stirred inside him that could almost have been envy. He glanced at Jenny’s hands, which she clasped and unclasped in her lap. His ring encircled her finger, but she wore Peter’s rings on her right hand.

He had an almost irresistible urge to still those restless fingers with his own, but such an action would signal a commitment, he thought fiercely, and that’s exactly what he didn’t want.

Commitment meant pain. She would walk away, as his birth mother had, as Barbara had.

So he kept his hand to himself. But afterward, as the Maitland and Lord families and their friends milled in the afternoon sunshine, reveling in the happiness of the bride and groom and checking out Jenny with stunned amazement, he finally took her hand.

Not to comfort. To escape.

“Let’s get away,” he told her. “I’ve had enough of this.”

Wordlessly she agreed-she’d said nothing for most of the afternoon-and they left as soon as decently possible.

Once in the car, with Jenny sitting white-faced and silent beside him, all he felt was an overwhelming claustrophobia.

Why? he demanded of himself as he drove. The afternoon couldn’t have gone better. Jenny had been welcomed and embraced into the family. Garrett had even hinted she might help in the search for their birth mother. Michael had nixed that one pretty fast.

Then Shelby and Lana had started grilling Jenny mercilessly about her past. What they learned they must have liked, because by the time they left, his sisters were starting to talk about turning Michael’s spare room into a nursery and who was the best baby-sitter around.

To her credit, Jenny had mostly listened. She hadn’t agreed to Garrett’s request for help but had deferred to Michael, and she’d seemed content to have Shelby and Lana make plans around her.

However, quiet or not, she hadn’t refuted anything. She hadn’t come right out and said, “We’re not turning Michael’s spare room into a nursery because that’s where I sleep. Michael and I don’t sleep together! We’re not a proper husband and wife.”

It would have been hard to say it in the face of their enthusiasm, he acknowledged, but maybe she could have tried. It was important.

And what would she have done if she’d been faced with the Maitland clan’s attention? The two of them made their escape while most of the Maitlands were still with the photographer, so Jenny had been spared Megan’s welcome, Ellie’s shock and Abby’s concern.

That was to come. Now that they’d heard the news, their curiosity would be aroused.

Even Garrett seemed to assume things had changed, Michael thought as he drove his wife toward town. Sunday nights Michael usually spent at the ranch, and he and Garrett played pool on their dad’s old pool table. After the wedding celebrations that’s ordinarily what would have happened. But Garrett hadn’t even raised the possibility. He’d helped Jenny into the Corvette and waved a hand in farewell, as if he wouldn’t be seeing his brother for a while.

“See you around, Mike.” Then he’d looked sideways at Jenny. “I’m sorry you need to go, but I understand you must be tired, Jenny. You take care of the lady, now, Mike. She’s quite something.”

She was, Michael thought bitterly, glancing sideways at Jenny.

But she wasn’t really his wife!

“I’m sorry, Michael.” She sounded tired, and when he checked her out again, he saw that her face had sagged. “It wasn’t meant…”

“What wasn’t meant?”

“Everything,” she whispered. “I mean, when I saw those little girls this morning, I felt so sorry for their grandma that I just offered without thinking. You’d think I’d have learned not to be so darned impetuous by now. And then, when it ended up with me having to go to the wedding with you and all your family being so welcoming… You’ve hated it, and I don’t blame you.”

“I didn’t hate it.”

“You did. I can see that you did.” She sighed. “You mightn’t know it, but you get a sort of look-the same one you get when some sales rep comes in with a security system that bores you to snores, yet you still have to listen. That’s what you looked like today.”

“What, all of today?” He was shocked. Surely not.

“No,” she said. “Not all. Most of the time you tried not to. You were truly wonderful with the children this morning. It was mostly this afternoon, and maybe…maybe it’s only because I know you well.” Her voice faded to a whisper. “Anyway, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry you’re stuck with driving me home. Don’t you and Garrett normally spend time together on Sunday night?”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve told me,” she said. “Lots of times. When I’ve asked you about your weekends.”

Had he? Michael frowned. He couldn’t remember telling her about his weekends.

But maybe he had. In the past few months, Jenny had become part of the furniture around his office. He could very well have talked to her, he decided. He’d never had to watch his tongue when she was around. He’d learned fast that anything he told her went no further, and he’d relaxed in her presence.

But he wasn’t relaxed now. He was edgy. Chafed by the ties he’d never expected.

But she was untying them. “There’s no need to stay home tonight on my account,” she told him. “Just drop me off and go on back out to the ranch. Say I need to sleep. It’s a family celebration. You should be there.”

“Garrett won’t expect me.”

Jenny took a deep breath. “Then maybe Garrett should. He knows this is just a formality.”

“Our marriage?”

“Yes. Our marriage.”

“I hope he does,” Michael said, and he couldn’t keep the note of bitterness from his voice. “It’s obvious my sisters don’t.”

She hesitated, thinking. “I wasn’t sure what you’d told them,” she said after a pause. “I didn’t like to…”

“To dispel the romance?”

“Michael, I wouldn’t presume…” She hesitated and cast a nervous look at him. “I don’t want this, you know.”

“Don’t want this marriage?” The strain of the afternoon was still with him. “You’re not making that very clear.”

There was another silence, longer this time. She fingered the rings on her right hand-the rings she’d moved the day she wed Michael.

“I don’t… Michael, Peter’s only been dead for seven months. There’s no way…” She took a ragged breath. “If you think I’m…”

Damn, now he had to feel guilty as well as trapped. “I don’t think anything,” he said wearily. “I don’t think a darned thing. It’s what my sisters think.”

“Which is?”

“That I’m finally domesticated. Trapped.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it the minute he let the words leave his mouth, but it was too late to retract them. They hung in the silence between them like a threat.

“Then that’s just stupid.” Her voice rose a notch, anger filtering through it. Her anger matched his. “I didn’t trap you into marriage, Michael Lord. That would have been unfair. You offered. You came into this with your eyes wide open. I was amazingly, incredulously grateful for your offer, but if I’d thought for a moment that you believed I’d engineered this…”

“I don’t think that.”

“That’s what it sounds like,” she said.

“Then I’m sorry.” But he couldn’t get rid of the edge of anger in his voice, no matter how unfair he knew he was being.

More constrained silence. Michael glanced at her. Damn, she did look tired.

“Jenny…”

“Michael, let’s just leave this,” she said wearily. “I feel so guilty anyway that I can’t bear it. At least not tonight.”

“There’s no need for you to feel guilty,” he told her, his own guilt still there. “You’re right. I offered. What my family does to me is no fault of yours.”

“Any family would do just what they’re doing. They’re right. And I should never have agreed to marry you. I need to-we need to do something.” She sighed. “But for now, heaven knows what the answer is. I seem to be getting deeper and deeper into a quagmire. Just drop me off at your house and go out to celebrate with your family. Please, Michael?”

“I don’t want-”

“If you weren’t married, would you ever stay home for dinner on a Sunday night?”

“No, but-”

“Then there’s your answer,” she said flatly. “You’re not married, not really. So do what you always have done.”