Page 58 of Merging Wright

“We were together for seven years.” Her voice drifts upward since she refuses to look at me.

My fingers pause their massage. What the fuck?

“I worked for his father first but was moved to work under Ripley.”

Ripley Edgar Sr. started Edgar Media, and his son took over when the dad retired.

“Ripley didn’t want the office to know about us. As long as we remained professional by day, I had his attention at night. Mostly.” Jane’s eyes shift to watch me massage up her leg to her knee. Her leg flinches when I hit another sensitive spot. Note to self, she’s ticklish on the backs of her knees. I lower her left leg to reach for the right, wrapping my fingers around the arch of her foot.

“We didn’t go out in public, and I didn’t question it. For years, we worked side-by-side and escaped to his office after hours or took weekends away. Business trips. Once even a vacation I wasn’t allowed to mention.” Jane’s voice drops, mocking the words, “Could draw suspicion.”

“Then . . .” She takes a deep breath. “Then I found out I was pregnant.”

Holy fuck. My hands still again. Everything in me rebels. Not my Jane. Not with Ripley. I remain holding her foot while she stares up at the ceiling once more.

“Ripley was upset about the pregnancy. He wanted me to . . .” Jane closes her eyes, shaking her head. “I was thirty-seven. It might have been my only chance to have a child. I wasn’t willing to do it.”

Her eyes open, and she exhales heavily, like a warning of what happened next. “I lost the baby.” Her voice is small, and she shrugs, but I don’t believe the dismissive action. “It wasn’t meant to happen.”

I drop the foot that I hold and climb up the bed over her. Balancing on all fours, I cage her in, needing to protect her, wanting to comfort her.

Her hand lands on my chest. “Don’t,” she whispers. “Please. Don’t.”

I don’t know what she’s stopping me from or what I even intended to do, but my arms vibrate with the desire to hold her.

“Within days of the miscarriage, he announced his engagement to Kaye Hamilton. They’d been together for five years. He always told me she was a family friend. They were each other’s stand-in as he couldn’t take me to events or activities outside of something strictly work-related. Even then, at office parties, we kept our distance. He didn’t want the other employees to know he was fraternizing with one of his staff. Dallying with me, as he eventually called our relationship.”

I stare down at her. Every part of me wants to touch her, bring her to my chest and keep her against me. “What a fucking prick.”

Jane purses her lips. “He is.”

I collapse to my side, allowing no space between us, accepting that this is as close as she’ll let me for now. My chest presses against her bicep, and my arm falls over her midsection. I hold up my head as I perch on my elbow. “So, he broke it off with you?”

Jane shakes her head. “He announced his engagement at a company dinner. That was my memo we were over.”

“Shit.” What a motherfucking dick.

“I quit the next day. He didn’t bother to chase me or even inquire into my leaving.”

That’s how Jane came to Impact. She admitted during the interview she was ready for a professional change. She wanted to work for a better company, and we were her first choice. We hired her on the spot. She had incredible experience and a glowing recommendation from Ripley. Then he said what he said a few months later at The Athletic Club. I completely misunderstood their relationship.

“I’m so sorry, Jane.” Leaning forward, I can’t help the kiss I press to her temple, lingering against her skin.

She exhales. “If I stay down here and you return to Chicago, no one will know the difference in our status. Then we can divorce when the project ends. That’s less than four months if we press for Kringle Fest.”

I pull back and prop up on my hand to stare down at her. With an arm over her belly, I shift to spread my fingers over her stomach. “Jane, that wasn’t what I meant at all when I suggested we renegotiate this arrangement.”

“What did you mean then?” She looks up at me with the most innocent eyes, filled with hesitation. Fear, she’d said to me. She’d constantly feared as a child.

How could I tell her what I wanted? How could I ask her for sex after the shitshow that happened to her? Instead, I ask a different question. “Do you think you might be pregnant after our wedding night?” The timing was almost a month ago. Surely, she’d know now or know soon if she was.

Jane abruptly sits up.

Removing my hand from her waist, I follow her movement, bracing my arm behind her back to support me. The desire to stay close to her continues. She doesn’t look at me over her shoulder. Instead, she directs her words toward the bathroom door.

“I can’t get pregnant, Mach. So, there’s no cause for concern.”

“I wasn’t—”