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Why their shared familiarity should bother her so much Jenny didn't know. How had she expected them to behave around each other? After all, they were lovers. She knew that. But knowing it and actually witnessing it were two different things. It hurt her to the core that Cage had been kissing her with such tender fervor only seconds before Roxy made her untimely appearance.
Could he turn his passions off and on at will? Had he already forgotten that he had been kissing her, telling her how much he wanted her? Could he transfer his affection from one woman to another so quickly? Apparently he could. The evidence of his chameleon desires was right in front of her.
When the wine was poured, they toasted her new home. Jenny took one sip of the inexpensive vintage. She set her glass down, and, with an "Excuse me" that she wasn't even sure they heard over their laughter, went into the bathroom and closed the door. She barely made it in time to be sick in the commode.
"Jenny?" Cage tapped on the bathroom door a few moments later. His voice was laced with concern. "Is something wrong?"
"I'll be right out," she called through the door. She washed her face, rinsed out her mouth, and combed her fingers through her hair.
"Are you mad at us?" Cage asked the moment she opened the door. "I know how you feel about drinking. This is your place. We didn't mean to offend you."
It was then that she knew she loved him.
Probably she always had. But it wasn't until that moment, that instant, when he was gazing down at her with such contrition, tha
t she realized she did.
She had been deluding herself for all these years, telling herself that if she stayed away from him, her attraction to him would wane. But all this time it had been secretly nestling inside her like an oyster in its shell, gathering grains of knowledge about Cage, a glance, a touch, a sound, until her love for him was like a rare and precious pearl imbedded in her soul.
She wanted to walk into his arms, to be held close, to cling to his strength. But she wouldn't. Couldn't. It was unheard of. Jenny Fletcher and Cage Hendren? Impossible. She was pregnant with another man's child, his brother's child. Even if that weren't so, they were totally unsuited to each other. Had any two people ever been more different? Their being together in any kind of romantic relationship was a hopeless prospect.
Oh, but she loved him!
"No, it isn't that, Cage," she said, giving him a weak smile. "I don't feel too well."
He tensed. "The baby? Is it bad? Cramps? Blood? What? Should I call the doctor?"
"No, no." She put a restraining hand on his arm but immediately withdrew it. "I'm just tired. I was on my feet all day and I think it's catching up with me."
"I should be shot at sunrise," he said. "I should have tucked you into bed the minute we got home."
"I didn't have a bed then."
He scowled at her attempt at humor. "Well, as soon as it was delivered I should have tucked you in." He took her hand and led her into the living room. "Say good night, Roxy. We're leaving the lady so she can get some rest."
Roxy sprang off the new sofa and looked at Jenny closely. "You're pale as a ghost, honey," she said, laying the back of her hand on Jenny's pallid cheek. "Is there anything I can do?"
Yes, leave, Jenny wanted to shout. And keep your hands off Cage. Her primary illness was jealousy. She acknowledged it, but she couldn't ward it off. She just wanted Cage's mistress out of her house. "No. I'll be fine after I get to bed," she said tactfully.
Over her protests, Roxy and Cage made up her new bed, spreading the crisp sheets over it. "Tomorrow you might want to wash these and soften them up a bit," Roxy suggested. "If you need any help carrying them into the laundry room, call me."
"Thank you," she said, knowing good and well she'd never be asking Roxy Clemmons for any favors.
When the bed was made to their satisfaction, they gathered up the party snacks and wine. At the front door Cage took both Jenny's hands in his. "Lock up after us."
"I will."
"If you need me, in the middle of the night, anytime, for anything, go to Roxy's and call me."
"Don't worry about me."
"I'll worry about you if I damn well feel like it," he said crossly. "You'll have a phone installed tomorrow."
"But I didn't order—"
He placed his index finger against her lips. "I did, when you went to the ladies' room after lunch. Now, good night and get some sleep." He kissed her mouth softly. His tongue whisked across her lower lip so lightly and fleetingly, she wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it. As he stepped into the night he took Roxy's arm. "Come on, Roxy sweet, I'll walk you home."
Jenny closed the door after them. Cage was going home with Roxy. They would no doubt pick up the party where they'd left off. Images of them together, their mouths sealed, their bodies entwined, flickered through her mind. Miserable, she lay in her new bed for a long time, unable to fall asleep. She was tormented by the thought of Cage with Roxy. Cage with anybody.
