Private Pleasures

Chapter Ten

Mariah blinked her eyes open and groaned. She wanted to die. From heartbreak. And from the miserable bout of flu that had lingered for the past week. The two combined was enough to give new meaning to the word anguish.

She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, unable to believe she'd slept until noon. She was so tired lately that no amount of sleep seemed to make her feel refreshed. With effort, she got out of bed, put on her old, favorite chenille robe and shuffled into the kitchen.

It was Sunday, but Jade wasn't home. Mariah was grateful for small favors. For the past five weeks since her second breakup with Grey, her sister had been doing her best to snap her out of her gloom, that is after Jade's initial "I told you so." But Mariah couldn't seem to summon up enough energy, or enthusiasm, to give in to her sister's prodding to "get on with her life."

Opening the freezer, she reached for a bowl of frozen grapes, then stopped when her stomach rebelled at the thought of any kind of food, even her favorite snack. Tears welled in her eyes and caught in her throat.

Damn. Now she was crying over frozen grapes. She'd been so emotional lately, the slightest, silliest things seemed to set her off and make her bawl like a baby. Jade was becoming impatient trying to gauge her mood shifts, not that she could blame her sister. She couldn't even anticipate her emotional state from one moment to the next.

Closing the freezer, she made her way to the kitchen table, sank into a chair and rested her cheek on the cool, wooden surface. She closed her eyes and attempted to relax and get a grip on reality.

The first two weeks back from the cabin she'd spent refusing Grey's calls at the office, listening to his pleas on her answering machine at home and making Jade turn him away at their door.

Then it all stopped. And the silence hurt worse than hearing the torment in his voice when he'd left his final "I love you" on her answering machine. She'd listened to it a zillion times since.

Mariah gulped back more tears. She missed him so much, and not for the first time wished they could go back to the cabin and the gentle, tender moments they'd shared, the fun, the laughter and the fierce loving that would haunt her forever. That one week had been romantic and idyllic. She'd hoped, and dreamed, and let herself believe that her love could change Grey. But in the end, her love, their love, hadn't been powerful enough to allow Grey to let go of his disturbing past and chance a future with her.

Sighing, she let her mind drift and the tension ease from her body. She grew lethargic. She was tired, so tired…

A hand settled on her shoulder and shook gently. "Hey, Riah, you okay?"

Mariah woke with a start and lifted her head from the table to find her sister standing beside her with a concerned expression on her face. "I'm fine," she said, her voice hoarse. Pushing her disheveled hair from her face, she glanced at the kitchen clock, which told her she'd been sleeping for nearly an hour. "I guess I just kinda drifted off."

"Yeah, well, you seem to be doing a lot of that lately,"

Jade said. "At your desk at work, in the bathtub, sitting on the couch and now at the kitchen table. At first I took it personally when you'd drift off while I was talking to you, as if I was boring you or something." She gave Mariah a critical once-over that made her uncomfortable. "And don't you think it's odd that you can't shake this flu you've had for the past week, and that I haven't caught it?"

Mariah frowned. "I haven't really given it much thought."

"Obviously," Jade said dryly as she plunked a small brown bag in front of Mariah. "But I have, and I think I finally figured out what your problem is."

Mariah had a feeling the cure was in the bag, which she eyed hesitantly. "What's this?"

"A little present for you." Jade sat in the chair next to hers. "Go on and open it."

Very tentatively, she did, and gasped when she saw the contents. "A pregnancy test? I'm sick, not pregnant!"

A brunette brow rose, enhancing Jade's dubious expression.

"I can't be pregnant," she said reasonably, even as she frantically counted back to the day of her last period, which had been light and only two days long, nothing like her normal five-day flow. Around the thundering of her heart, she managed, "I'm on the Pill."

"Which is only ninety-nine percent effective," Jade pointed out. "Humor me, Riah, and take the test."

Mariah stood, her stomach churning with a sudden dread she refused to acknowledge. "You're wrong," she said. Grabbing the little brown bag, she disappeared into the bathroom, praying that Jade was, indeed, mistaken.

Less than ten minutes later she walked back into the kitchen, stunned to the point of numbness. Holding the test strip in her hand, she met Jade's anxious gaze.

"It's positive," she said, then burst into tears.

"Oh, Riah." Jade stood and wrapped her in a comforting embrace. She soothed her for a few moments, then took her by the hand and led her into the living room.

They sat side by side on the couch. "It's not as if I didn't try and warn you," Jade teased, trying to lighten the moment. "Nooo, now look at you, heartbroken and pregnant."

Mariah swiped away the wetness from her cheeks, her shock fading into disbelief. "I just don't understand how it happened."

Jade's mouth curled into a sly grin. "It happens when two people have that recreational activity called sex, not that I'd recall what that's like. It's been so long I can almost qualify as a born-again virgin."

Despite her situation, Mariah smiled. Staring at the bright blue plus sign on the strip confirming her delicate condition, she shook her head. "I guess I've just become a statistic."

Jade agreed, and after a few reflective minutes she asked, "What are you going to do, Riah?"

"I'm keeping the baby, of course," she said without a second thought. That wasn't an issue for her. Raising a child alone wouldn't be easy, and it certainly wasn't what she'd envisioned for herself, but she wouldn't consider any other option.

"I didn't doubt that you would keep the baby." Compassion softened Jade's features. "What I meant was, are you going to tell Grey?"

Mariah rested her head on the back of the sofa and stared up at the ceiling fan. The whitewashed oak blades whirled, casting blessedly cool air downward. A rush of tears filled her eyes before she could stop them. Now she knew why she'd been on such an emotional roller coaster lately, and why the mere mention of Grey had her blubbering like a two-year-old.

But her tears changed nothing, especially the fact that Grey didn't want a family.

Swiping at the moisture trickling from the corner of her eye, Mariah drew a steadying breath and looked at Jade, her decision made. "No, I'm not telling Grey."

"Why not?" she asked gently.

For all her brashness, Jade could be so sensitive at times. Usually the right times. "I don't want Grey to feel obligated to a child he made clear he doesn't want."

Jade digested that, then countered with, "Don't you think he has the right to at least know about the baby?"

She shook her head emphatically. "If Grey knew, he'd feel responsible to marry me, and I refuse to force him to do something he doesn't want to." Just like Grey's mother and father. No way was she going to let Grey's history repeat itself with them. "He had his chance to marry me, and instead he let me walk away."

"You being pregnant might change his mind."

"For all the wrong reasons," she refuted. "He made his feelings on marriage and children very clear. I don't want to be an obligation to Grey, and this baby to be an unwanted burden, one he grows to resent. This isn't an issue that's up for negotiation."

Jade's cobalt blue eyes held understanding. "Well, you don't have much choice but to tell Mom and Dad about this new addition to the family. Not to mention the fact that you won't be marrying the baby's father."

Mariah's temples began to throb at the thought of breaking the news to her very old-fashioned father. Oh, he was going to be thrilled that he was finally going to be a grandpa, and not so happy to learn she was going to be a single mom. "Mom and Dad will learn to adjust. This is the nineties. Women have babies on their own all the time."

They grew quiet, as if Jade sensed there was nothing she could say or do to change Mariah's mind.

And there wasn't.

Slipping her hand inside her robe, Mariah pressed her palm to her still-flat stomach, awed that a little life was growing inside her. There wasn't any doubt that the baby had been conceived at the cabin, and wondered if it had happened the night in front of the fire or the night Grey had told her he loved her.

The night her world had fallen apart.

This baby hadn't been planned by any means, but it had been created out of love. And her child would know love, Mariah thought determinedly. Lots of it. From a caring mom, a neurotic aunt and enthusiastic grandparents.

"Wow, a baby." Jade sighed, a wistful quality to her voice. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

Mariah closed her eyes, envisioning a little girl with Grey's dark hair and golden eyes, then a little boy with similar coloring. "It doesn't matter, as long as it's healthy."

Jade grinned. "If my vote counts for anything, I hope it's a girl."

Mariah groaned, imagining the bond Jade would form with her niece. "And the first words out of her mouth would be, Let's go shopping.'"

"Of course." Jade laughed, her eyes sparkling wickedly. "Whatever it is, a boy or a girl, I plan to spoil this baby rotten."

Mariah wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. "Do I have any say in the matter?"

"Absolutely not." Jade's humor faded into a tender expression. "I still can't believe I'm going to be an aunt."

Grasping her sister's hand, Mariah gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be the best."

"And you're going to be a mom." Her voice was filled with wonder.

Mariah rubbed her belly, already experiencing a fierce protectiveness toward her unborn child. "Yeah, though this isn't the way I'd planned it."

"Some things are better not planned."

Emotion constricted Mariah's throat. "Maybe you're right," she whispered.

"Aren't I always?" she said with her regular dose of sass. Then she grew serious. "I'll be here for you, Mariah, in any way I can."

Mariah reached over and gave her sister a warm hug. Damn. More tears. Would they ever stop? "Thanks, Jade, that means more to me than you'll ever know."

Jade pulled back, frowning. "Hey, what's with all the tears?"

"Damn hormones," Mariah muttered, though she knew hormones had little to do with it. These tears were for Grey and all the joy he was going to miss not being a part of his child's life.

"Wasn't that incredible?" Mariah was still filled with excitement as she and Jade exited her obstetrician's office and walked across the parking lot to her car. She'd just had her five-month checkup and ultrasound, and was thrilled and relieved to find out the baby was healthy.

"Yeah, it was," Jade agreed, smiling. "It's amazing to hear that little heart beat and see the baby actually moving inside you." She gazed at the ultrasound picture the doctor had given Mariah, an X ray that outlined the baby's head and body. In this particular pose, the baby was sucking its thumb. "Too bad the little critter wouldn't open up its legs so we could get a peek."

"Just think what a surprise it'll be when the baby is born." Mariah dug her car keys from her purse. "And you'll be right there in the delivery room when it happens."

"I don't know about this coaching stuff," Jade said as they slipped into the car. "You know the sight of blood makes me queasy."

"You'll be fine." Mariah buckled her seat belt over her rounded, ever-expanding waistline and gave her sister a reassuring pat on the knee. "I'll be the one in pain."

"Grey should have been here today, not me," Jade said quietly.

Mariah sighed, staring out the windshield at nothing in particular. She'd thought the same thing. When she'd seen and felt the baby move within her body she'd been breathless with wonder, and on the heels of that came a twinge of sadness that wrapped around her heart and squeezed tight.

She couldn't help but feel doubts and sometimes guilt for keeping Grey's baby a secret. He was the father of this baby, but her arguments always whittled down to one plain and simple issue. Grey didn't want children. Ever. Oh, she didn't doubt he'd take responsibility for the baby, but she didn't want his acceptance to be one of financial obligation. She wanted it to be borne of unconditional love for the child.

There was no question in her mind that he'd make a good, caring father. She'd told him as much. But the awful, bitter memories of Grey's father's abuse shadowed his confidence. And there was no way she could prove him wrong, not until he was ready to believe in himself, and in his strength and ability to be a better man than his father was. She seriously doubted anything had happened in the past rive months to change his way of thinking.

Wrapping her fingers around the steering wheel, she waited for the tightness in her chest to ease. Although the emotional ups and downs had subsided over the months, along with the morning sickness, there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't think about Grey. She was desperately trying to put him and their relationship behind her and focus on her future with their child. But forgetting Grey was impossible. Whenever she looked in the mirror and saw the changes to her body, she thought of the man who'd helped create the baby inside her. And she remembered the love they'd shared for one perfect week.

Finally she glanced at Jade. Her sister expected a response to her statement, she could tell, but she wasn't up to defending her decision. She did that often enough with her father, though her parents had come to accept her choice.

"I've got a craving for a Monte Cristo," she said instead, forcing a smile. "How about lunch on me at Maxine's?"

Jade lifted a dark brow. "That's way across town."

Mariah shrugged and started the car. "But it's my favorite place. I haven't been there since…" Grey. She swallowed the name always on her mind and forever in her heart and finished with, "Well, in a while. I've had a craving for a Monte Cristo for the past month."

Jade held her hands up in surrender. "Who am I to stand in the way of a pregnant woman's craving?"

Mariah grinned at her sister and lovingly patted her swollen belly. "You're a smart woman."

"Well, I do have to say that your prices are more than fair, and your references are impeccable." Sam Haight set Grey's five-page proposal back on the table and leaned back in the Naugahyde booth with a satisfied smile on his face. "I've put off a new security system long enough. The job is yours if you want it."

Grey stared at the older man for a moment, unable to drum up any excitement for the six-figure deal Sam Haight had accepted so effortlessly. The man hadn't quibbled on the high-tech security system Grey had recommended for his plush offices, and he hadn't tried dickering on the cost. Where was the elation that came from such an easy victory?

"Well, Grey, do we have a deal or not?" Sam asked. "I'm anxious to get the security system installed." He rubbed his hands together, as if this security system was a new toy and he couldn't wait to play with it.

He'd be crazy to turn down such an easy, profitable job. Grey motioned to their waitress to bring the check for their lunch, then turned back to Sam. "I'll have the contract drawn up and to you by the end of the week. Installation can start as soon as next Monday."

"Fabulous. I'm looking forward to doing business with you."

"I'm looking forward to doing the job." Grey's reply came automatically, considering he didn't look forward to doing much these days. Since his breakup with Mariah, work had become an escape, a way to keep his mind off what he'd let slip though his fingers. Even the ruthless drive he once had to build his security firm into a Fortune 500 company had lost its appeal and excitement.

One night, while sitting alone in the dark in his living room nursing a beer, he'd come to the realization that his life had no real purpose or direction. Oh, sure, he was wealthy enough that he could purchase anything money could buy, but it wasn't material items he wanted. No, his longing went much deeper than purchasing something on a whim. The yearning had settled in his soul, making him feel restless, lonely and miserable.

Certainly the deep ache would fade in time, he kept telling himself. But, dammit, how long would he have to wait until his heart didn't hurt anymore? How long before he could look at another woman and not see something about her that reminded him of Mariah? How long before the deep regret of letting her walk out of his life would fade?

Forever. The thought was suffocating and scary.

The waitress arrived with the check, and Grey mentally shoved his disturbing thoughts back into the dark, secluded spot in his soul where he kept them hidden. After paying the bill, he grabbed his briefcase, and he and Sam slid from the booth, heading toward the entrance of Maxine's.

Grey passed a young, pretty hostess as she led a couple to a table, and she gave him a seductive smile that made her interest in him clear. He waited for a stirring of attraction, a spark of desire, but none came. He shook his head in frustration and anger. He'd become a goddamned monk since Mariah.

The waiting area was crowded with lunchtime patrons waiting for a table, forcing him to cut through the lounge. His steps slowed as his gaze slid over silky blond hair cut into a shoulder-length style that reminded him of Mariah's. He could have sworn he caught a whiff of the light floral fragrance she sometimes wore.

He shook his head. Hard. He couldn't see the woman's face, but then he already knew it wasn't her. It never was. One time he'd made a fool of himself in public, running after a woman who'd looked so much like Mariah from behind, only to grab her arm, turn her around, and have the strange woman stare at him as if he was crazy.

Some days he thought he was losing his mind.

Keeping his eye on the neon Exit sign over the front doors of the establishment, he fumbled for the open roll of Turns in his slacks' pocket.

He heard husky laughter, so much like Mariah's. Grey swore beneath his breath as he crunched into a chalky tablet. Impatient to be gone from the restaurant and the memories that were beginning to crowd his mind, he pushed open the heavy carved doors, let Sam precede him, and started out behind him.

"Mariah Stevens, party of two, please," the hostess announced over the intercom.

Grey froze. His heart thundered in his ears, and his chest tightened painfully. He had to have misheard the page. Either that or he was closer to insanity than he'd originally thought.

"How long do I have to put up with these cravings of yours?" Grey heard a familiar voice ask from behind him. A sassy voice from the past.

That sweet laughter again. "Only four more months."

The woman groaned. "This I can handle, but I draw the line at pickles and ice cream."

The exchange seemed surreal to Grey, but he found himself slowly turning around. He let the door shut, rudely leaving Sam outside by himself. Grey couldn't bring himself to care, because this was probably some sort of dream anyway.

He saw the blonde and brunette heading toward the waiting hostess. Before he lost his nerve, he called, "Mariah?"

She turned around with a smile wreathing her beautiful face and her eyes bright with amusement, but when she saw him, her whole expression changed into one of shock and disbelief.

Their gazes locked. "Grey?" Her voice cracked.

She clearly wasn't overjoyed to see him. She watched him warily and with an unreserved apprehension that annoyed him. Guests entered and exited the restaurant, but his sole focus remained on the one woman he couldn't forget.

Jade stepped in front of Mariah, her stance fierce and protective. "Grey, she doesn't want to see you, so I suggest you just leave and not make a scene."

Irritation propelled him forward, and he slowly wended his way around the people in the waiting area. He caught Mariah's gaze and held it. "Let me hear that from Mariah."

Jade's chin jutted out, but before she could respond, Sam came back through the doors. He glanced from Grey to Mariah, took in the scene that looked as though a showdown was about to happen, and said cautiously and with concern, "Uh, you two know one another?"

"Yes," Grey said the same time Mariah said, "No!"

"No?" He lifted a mocking brow, remaining focused on her face. You've already forgotten how intimately we know one another? his eyes asked. You can put me out of your mind so easily when I've spent the past five months in pure misery, wanting no other woman but you?

Eyes wide, she took a hesitant step back, but there was really nowhere for her to escape, considering the exit was behind him. It's over Grey. It's over! her look frantically told him. But it was the undisguised fear in the depths that made him pause. His steps slowed as he neared, and it was then that he realized she looked…different.

Her face was fuller than he remembered, but no less beautiful. His gaze traveled lower, following the collar of her pale pink blouse to the generous swell of breasts at least a size larger than engraved in his memory. The blouse flared slightly at the waist and settled against a rounded belly too firm to be excess fat.

She was undoubtedly pregnant.

The savage pain and jealousy that lanced through him was near unbearable. His heart hurt. His mind reeled. More confusing was the brief thought that he wished the child was his. He swore bluntly.

"If you two will excuse us," Grey said tightly, glancing from Sam to Jade and giving them a look sure to quell any argument. "I'd like to talk to Mariah privately for a few minutes."

Mariah gave Jade a look of sheer desperation, but her sister only said, "You need to tell him."

Tell him what? Grey wondered. That she'd found another man willing to give her everything he couldn't?

Sam, taking his cue from Jade, nodded and stepped her way. "What do you say I buy you a drink?"

Grinning wryly, Jade hooked her arm through the one Sam offered. "Yeah, I think I could use a peach daiquiri."

Grey could have used a drink, too, but instead he gave the impatiently waiting hostess a tight smile and asked her to hold Mariah's reservation.

The hostess returned to her post and called another party, leaving Mariah and Grey in the midst of patrons coming and going from the restaurant. The spot wasn't ideal for a private conversation, but at this point Grey wasn't going to be picky, and he didn't think Mariah would agree to someplace secluded.

Mariah nervously dragged her tongue across her bottom lip and shifted uncomfortably. Finally, she spoke. "How are you?"

"Just dandy," he drawled sarcastically. "And you?"

She looked everywhere but at him. "Fine."

Despite being torn up inside, he wanted to touch her so badly his fingers tingled. But she wasn't his to touch any longer. No, judging by her condition, she belonged to another man.

That thought put a bitter taste in his mouth. "I see you didn't waste much time starting a family. Who's the lucky guy? Richard?"

Her gaze jerked back to his. A flash of hurt entered her eyes, then she quickly glanced away again. "It doesn't matter, Grey," she said softly.

"It sure as hell does," he bit out. The hostess looked their way, and he tried keeping his temper, and his voice, at a reasonable level. "We've been split up for, what, a whole five months now and you've managed to find yourself a new husband-"

"It could have been you, Grey," she said in response.

His jaw tightened. Silently he admitted that's what galled him the most. The pure, undiluted regret he lived with every day. He hadn't been able to offer her what she wanted, but that selfish, aching part of him didn't want anyone else to have her, either.

"So, you just happened to fall in love with someone else?" That selfish part of him lashed out, wanting to hurt her as much as he hurt. Love, he was quickly learning, wasn't always a pretty emotion. "That's pretty damned convenient, wouldn't you say?"

Her face flushed and she suddenly looked every bit as furious as he was. And deeper, he saw the hurt. Curiously it gave him little satisfaction.

"I didn't fall in love with anyone else." Her voice was low and modulated.

He laughed, a mocking sound. "I guess that just goes to show you that you don't always need love to get married, do you?"

"I'm not married," she snapped, then gasped in shock at her confession.

He blinked, and like a cold dose of reality, her words seeped through the haze of anger blinding him to all the obvious signs. His gaze narrowed, and he took a closer look at Mariah and the changes in her body. He knew little to nothing about pregnant women, but gut instinct gnawed at him. Apprehension and fear mingled, along with a greater emotion he couldn't put a name to.

She placed a possessive hand on her stomach, her expression reflecting her panic. "Grey, I have to go," she said abruptly, and turned toward the bar to retrieve her sister.

Without a thought he grabbed her arm, stalling her. His heart pounded so hard he could hear each drumming pulse in his ears.

She tugged on her arm, but his grasp was strong. "Let me go."

"Whose baby is it?" he asked, his voice as tight as the pressure banding his chest.

"Mine," she said fiercely.

He ground his teeth. "Dammit, Mariah, who is the father?"

"It's none of your business!"

He leaned close. "I'm making it my business!"

Tears filled her eyes and her bottom lip trembled. With great effort he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms, comfort her and apologize for his callous behavior.

He wasn't sorry. And he wanted answers. He didn't question why the need was so strong, only knew that he couldn't let her go without knowing the truth.

"Mariah," he said, his low voice vibrating with warning. "There are tests to prove paternity."

Dismay flitted across her face and shimmered in her gaze. "Why do you care?" she cried.

Because I love you. That's the only explanation his heart and mind would allow, and he didn't fight it. "Answer me," he said harshly.

She closed her eyes, and when they opened again he saw, as well as felt, her defeat. "You, Grey," she whispered in a choked voice as a single tear trickled down her cheek. "You're the baby's father."

Stunned, he let go of her arm and felt himself sway backward. He tried to drag a breath of air into his lungs, but oxygen suddenly seemed in short supply.

You, Grey. You're the baby's father. Her words reached him on some distant plane. He was going to be a dad. He gave his head a shake, and attempted to push aside the terror crashing over him. Oh, God, he couldn't be a dad. He didn't know how to be a dad. What if he failed? What if he was as rotten as his own father had been? The prospect was so frightening, so overwhelming in its capacity, that he felt ill.

Mariah pushed past him and out the door, snapping him out of his dark thoughts. He went after her, catching her halfway down the walkway leading to the parking lot. "Dammit, Mariah," he said, standing in front of her and forcing her to stop- "I'm not done talking to you!"

She lifted that stubborn chin of hers. Sunlight danced in her soft, silky hair and fire flashed in her eyes. "There's nothing to talk about."

He begged to differ. "Why didn't you tell me about the baby when you found out you were pregnant?" he asked with more calm than he felt.

"Because you were better off not knowing," she said bluntly.

He flinched as if she'd physically slapped him. What kind of monster did she think he was-to think he didn't care about her welfare? "Since I'm the father, I have a responsibility to that child."

"A responsibility you've made more than clear you don't want," she argued heatedly.

His jaw clenched in aggravation. "But mine nonetheless."

"I don't want or expect anything from you. I'm fully prepared to raise this child on my own." She laid a possessive hand over the swell of her belly, a protective instinct as old as time. "I don't want this baby to be some great, noble sacrifice for you. An obligation. I deserve better than that, and so does your child."

Her words felt like a double punch to the stomach. Oh, Lord, she was right. She did deserve better, so much better. And so did their child. The thought made his heart twist peculiarly. But the irrefutable truth was, the baby she carried was better off not having him as a father. He knew nothing but the worst about raising a child and being a dad, and he didn't think there was a sufficient manual on the how-to's of fatherhood for him, either.

A strange sense of despair wrapped around him. Fear clashed with regret, and added to the muddled mess was the deep longing of the confused, mistreated youth he'd been.

But he was a grown man, shaped by his childhood and educated through the school of hard knocks; his teacher a cruel, bitter man who'd taught his son humiliation and the worst kind of degradation.

He gulped in a breath. There was one last selfless act he could do for his child. It killed him to turn and walk away, made a part of his soul shrivel and die, but he did just that.

There was no way he would ever subject a child to the kind of hell he'd been through.