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“There’s an engagement ring in my pocket.” It wasn’t an eloquent proposal, but she should get the message.
Candy went stock-still. Carl noticed that he had her attention now.
“An engagement ring,” she repeated.
He nuzzled her neck with his nose, loving the smell and feel of her. It would take two lifetimes to properly love this woman.
“To go along with the wedding band, darlin’.”
He figured she’d burst into tears of happiness or react in some such womanly way. What he didn’t expect was for her to jerk herself free and glare at him as if he’d insulted her.
“Why?” she demanded.
“Why? You’re gonna have a baby, aren’t you?”
She whirled around so fast that papers scattered from atop the desk. When she spoke, her voice was soft and low. He barely recognized it as hers. “Is the baby the only reason you want to marry me, Carl?”
“Yes. Of course.” He wasn’t going to lie about it. He probably would have reached the same conclusion in time, but the fact Candy was pregnant was a large part of the reason he’d decided they should be married now.
“I see.”
Carl frowned, not understanding. “Well,” he said, losing patience, “do you want the ring or not?”
She turned around to face him then. Her eyes were blank as if she were looking straight through him.
She was going to reject his proposal.Carl recognized the look in her eyes. By heaven, after making a fuss big enough to call in the United Nations to settle, she was going to refuse him.
He removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh. “You know, Candy, I’m sick and tired of getting kicked in the teeth every time I try to do the right thing by you. You don’t want to get married, then fine. I told you before I wasn’t the marrying kind.”
She lowered herself to the chair and brushed the hair from her face. He noticed her hands were shaking.
“I’ve offered you everything I’m going to. If you don’t want it, all the better. It’s time I started searching greener pastures.” He started out the door, and then because it would have been too much of an embarrassment to return the diamond to the jeweler, he took it out of his pocket. It was a pretty thing, and had cost him plenty. He tossed it on the desktop. “Take the ring back if you want. I don’t want it.”
Having said that, he walked out. He was finished with Candy Hoffman. As far as he was concerned, he never wanted to see her again.
And this time he meant it.
* * *
The alarm sounded and Lesley groaned in protest. She was exhausted. Zane scooted toward the irritating buzzer and flipped the switch, then cuddled her. Neither moved, content to be in each other’s arms.
Lesley’s soft sigh was filled with appreciation until she remembered that this was the day Zane was leaving. Within a matter of hours he’d be on a plane. He’d told her so little about this trip, only that he’d be away for a week. She didn’t even know where he was going, although she knew he needed his passport.
Carl and Zane had argued again. Whether Carl’s move or the disagreement had anything to do with Zane’s trip, she didn’t know. She’d sensed from the first that Zane was keeping something from her. Something vital.
“I have to leave soon,” Zane whispered.
Lesley rolled onto her back. Zane had propped himself up on one elbow and was gazing down on her.
“I know.” Her heart ached, hearing the words.
“I’ll be back in a week,” he promised hoarsely. She snuggled in the warm shelter of his arms. He held her for so long, she feared he’d miss his flight. Then he kissed her tenderly, slipped out of bed and was gone.
The first day following his departure was the longest. Lesley ate dinner alone and then wandered outside, drawn to the viewpoint she loved so well. This was the very spot where they’d stood only weeks earlier and exchanged their vows.
Her misery had more to do with the secrets Zane refused to tell her. She felt at a loss as to how to read Zane. Although he’d never spoken the words, she knew he loved her. Her distress wasn’t entirely emotional. From the moment Zane had left, her body had ached with symptoms that resembled the flu. She couldn’t get enough sleep and yet no matter how many hours she spent in bed, she didn’t feel rested.
Mrs. Applegate noticed on the third day Zane was gone. “My goodness, look at you. I swear you’re as pale as mashed potatoes.”
