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Chapter Eleven
“Well you handled that real well,” Cath said to the closed door.
Twice now Trace had asked her to marry him. This time she’d almost said yes. She was falling in love with the infuriating man. Why couldn’t he have said anything about his feelings about her? Surely he cared. Or were kisses like his the kind he gave every woman?
She hoped not.
And now there’d probably be no more kisses.
She sighed. She wished she’d handled it totally differently.
Or that he had.
Why couldn’t he have fallen in love with her? She was good enough to have his baby, but not to marry—except for the sake of said baby. She knew she wasn’t the type to sweep men off their feet with passion, but she knew he liked her, was love so very far behind?
Heading in to clean up the kitchen, Cath almost doubled over when the sharp pain hit low and hard. She tried to breathe, but clenched her entire body against the pain. Going to her bedroom, she lay down and curled into a ball. The position eased the discomfort. She held her breath again. She could not be miscarrying this precious baby.
Should she call the doctor? Telling him at this stage wouldn’t help. Nothing could help. She either made it or didn’t. But she so wanted her baby. She needed to relax, try to ease the discomfort. Think of something else.
How would life change when the baby was born?
She wasn’t going to hold on to Trace.
Maybe she’d find someone to fall in love given enough time—once she got over Trace.
She hoped it didn’t take as long as it had with Jason. She’d pined for him for years. But she feared getting over Trace might be impossible. She loved him far more deeply than she had Jason.
And with a child to unite them, she’d forever see him, learn about what he was doing, have to stand on the sidelines and keep her feelings secret from the world.
It didn’t look good for keeping her job.
Maybe a different scene would help.
But not if Trace insisted on being an active parent in the baby’s life. She’d always be around him, always see what she could have had if she’d only said yes.
Without love, however, she wouldn’t be happy.
If she could turn back the clock, would she?
No. Despite it all, she wouldn’t change a thing—except maybe Phillip McIntyre’s arrival.
Scared, tired and lonely, Cath drifted to sleep.
Friday afternoon Cath was surprised when John Gilbraithe arrived at Signals, Inc . He was a customer from the U.K. she and Thomas had worked with for years.
“Hello, Cath,” he said.
She looked up and smiled widely.
“John. I didn’t know you were coming. How are you?”
She jumped up and ran around her desk to give him a big hug. They had dated several times when she’d been in London on business a couple of years ago and they remained good friends.
“Flew in to Los Angeles for a conference, then thought I’d take a few days and see your lovely city. So I flew up this morning.”
“It’s wonderful to see you. Come in, sit down. Tell me what you’ve been up to lately. I have to say your e-mails are few and far between.”
“Like you write frequently. Heard about the change at the top. Things any different?”
