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“I had no choice. I had to tell him about Emily and invite him to visit her.”
“Save it, Sheila. I’ve heard all this before.”
She could read the anger in the crunch of his shoulders, feel his questions begging for answers, see the pride in the lift of his chin. “Please, Noah,” she pleaded, setting the mixed drink aside. “Don’t shut me out.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” He tossed the pencil down on the desk and rubbed his hands wearily against the back of his neck.
“Aren’t you?”
“No!” He got out of the chair and faced her for the first time since she entered the room. Ignoring the pain in her eyes, he wagged an accusing finger in her face. “I’ll tell you what I’m doing,” he stated hoarsely, “I’m sitting on the sidelines, hoping to hold on to my patience, which isn’t exactly my long suit to begin with, while the woman I love clings to some faded, rose-colored memories of a past and a marriage that didn’t exist.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m tryingnotto throw out a conniving jerk whose fumbling attempts at being a father border on the pathetic, for the sake of holding up appearances!”
“Jeff ’s just trying to—”
“And”,his voice increased in volume, “I’m attempting, Lord knows I’m not good at this sort of thing, but I’m trying damn it, to understand how a beautiful, sensitive woman like you could have ever gotten tangled up with a creep like Jeff Coleridge in the first place.” The cords in Noah’s neck were bulging, the muscles in his shoulders tight, the line of his mouth curled in distaste. He looked as if at any moment all of his simmering anger might explode.
Sheila picked up the martini with trembling hands. “I think that’s enough,” she whispered, her wide eyes unseeing. Her voice shook with the wounded tears of pride that had settled in her throat as she turned toward the door.
Noah was beside her in an instant, and his powerful arm reached out to impede her departure. He twisted her back to face him and the drink fell to the floor, breaking the glass and spilling the colorless liquid.
“No, Sheila,” he stated through clenched teeth, “You’re wrong.” He ignored the shattered glass and the pooling liquid. He gave her arm a shake to make sure she was giving him all of her attention. “I love you,” he admitted, the hardness in his gaze beginning to soften. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you. I fought it . . . I fought it like hell . . . but I lost.” His grip loosened on her arm, but she didn’t move as she was spellbound by the honesty in his eyes. “And I have no intention of letting you go—not to that snake you once called a husband. Not to anyone.”
Sheila felt her anger beginning to wither. Her gray eyes were colored by her conflicting emotions. “Then, please . . . please try and understand that I’m only putting up with Jeff because of Emily.”
“Do you think you’re fooling that child?”
“I’m not trying to fool her. I’m just trying not to bias her opinion of her dad.”
“By letting him intrude where he’s not wanted?” His eyes left hers to stare at the spilled drink. “By jumping at his every whim?” He touched her cheek tenderly. “Or by covering up his mistakes and omissions?”
“By letting her make her own decision.”
“Then let her see him as he really is.”
The muscles in his jawline tensed. “How important to you is Jeff Coleridge?” he demanded.
“He’s the father of my child.”
“Nothing more?”
“He once was,” she admitted. “I can’t deny that, and I wouldn’t try to. But that was a long time ago. Please believe me, Noah, I’m not in love with him. I don’t know if I ever was.”
Noah wrapped his arms tightly around her slim shoulders, and she could feel the warmth of his body where his arms touched her. Tenderly he brushed the smudge of soot from her cheek. “All right, Sheila,” he said with a reluctant sigh. “I’ll try and tolerate that jerk. But, believe me, if he gets obnoxious with you or Emily, I’m not going to apologize for throwing him out on his ear. Fair enough?”
Sheila’s smile spread slowly over her lips, showing just a hint of her white teeth. “Fair enough,” she agreed.
“Now, why don’t you work on dinner, let Jeff and Emily be alone, and I’ll finish up with the blueprints.”
“Only if you promise to clean up this mess,” she suggested, flipping her open palm toward the spilled drink, “and pour Jeff another vodka martini.”
“Not on your life, lady. Doting on that man is where I draw the line. If he wants a drink badly enough, he can damn well come in and mix his own.”
Sheila laughed and clucked her tongue. “Not very hospitable, are you?” she teased.
Noah raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Can you blame me?”
