Surprise Baby, Second Chance

‘I’m sure she would have if you hadn’t told her you’d sort yourself out,’ he said to distract himself. ‘And she arranged the plane for you. And the car to get you here. She’s a regular old fairy godmother,’ he added dryly.

‘No. No,’ she said again. ‘That can’t be it. She wouldn’t have arranged all of this just to play at being a fairy godmother.’

‘She did it before. When we met.’

‘That was just as much my mom as it was yours.’

‘Somehow, I think my mother had more to do with it.’ His shoulders tightened. ‘She likes to think she doesn’t live in the real world. And now, with this, she gets to play the perfect role. The good guy. The fairy godmother. To orchestrate a happy ever after.’

‘For you and me?’

‘Who else?’ he asked sharply, hating the surprise in her voice. She winced, stepped back, brushed at her hair again. It spiralled around her face in that free and slightly wild way her curls dictated.

‘You’re saying your mother tricked us into being here together because she wants us to...reconcile?’ He nodded. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Maybe because we were happily married until I got home one day to find you’d disappeared?’ She blanched. ‘Or maybe I’d fooled myself into believing we were happy.’

She bit her lip, looked away. ‘Did she tell you that she wanted us to have a happy ever after?’

He gritted his teeth, then forced himself to relax. Control was key. ‘Not directly. But she’s been urging me to contact you for the last four months.’ He cocked his head. ‘How did she contact you?’

‘My...email. I’ve been checking my emails.’

Tension vibrated between them. As did the unspoken words.

I’ve been checking my emails. I just haven’t replied to yours.

‘I was always going to attend her birthday, Aaron,’ Rosa said softly. ‘You know this is about more than your mother. More than you and me.’

He did. Rosa’s mother had made his mother promise to celebrate each birthday with vigour. A reminder that they’d lived. That they’d had a life.

That had been a deathbed promise.

It angered him even more that his mother would use her birthday as an opportunity for her scheme. In all the years she’d manipulated situations—in all the years she’d blamed her ‘zest for life’ for interfering in other people’s lives—she’d never done anything this...conniving.

And in all the years since he’d taken responsibility for Liana since he’d realised she wouldn’t take responsibility herself, Aaron had never felt more betrayed.

Or perhaps the betrayal he felt about Rosa leaving was intensifying his reaction.

Whatever it was, he wouldn’t allow it to control him any more. He walked to the door...and cursed when he found it locked.

CHAPTER TWO

‘WHAT?’ ROSA ASKED, anxiety pounding with her heart. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s locked.’

‘It’s—what?’ She strode past him and tried the handle of the door. It turned, but no amount of pressure made it open. ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘This is not happening. We are not locked in here. There must be some mistake.’

Panic spurred her movements and she reached into the clutch she’d forgotten was in her hand. She took her phone out. ‘I have signal!’ she said triumphantly. ‘Only a few bars, but it should work. Who should I call?’

‘I suppose we could try the police.’ His calm voice was a stark contrast to the atmosphere around them.

‘Do you have the number?’

‘No.’

She stared at him. ‘How do you not have the number of the police?’

‘It’s on my phone. It’s dead,’ he said, nodding in the direction of the table where it lay.

‘You didn’t charge it,’ she said with a sigh. It was something he did—or didn’t do—regularly. Which had driven her crazy on good days. This day had been anything but good.

But if he was going to pretend to be calm—if he was going to pretend he wasn’t freaking out when she knew that he was—she could too.

‘Okay, so we don’t have the number for the police station. I’m assuming that covers all emergency services?’ He nodded. ‘I guess we better hope that nothing happens during this storm,’ she muttered, and scanned her contacts for the number she was looking for.

As if in response to her words, a streak of lightning whipped across the sky. It was closely followed by booms of thunder. Rosa closed her eyes and brought the phone to her ear.

‘Liana, we’re locked in,’ Rosa said the moment she heard Liana’s voice—distant, crackling—on the phone.

‘Rosa?’

‘Yes, it’s Rosa. Aaron and I are trapped on the top floor of the house.’

‘What?’ Static dulled the sound of Liana’s voice even more. ‘Did you get to the house safely?’

‘I’m fine. But we’re locked in, so we can’t get off the top floor.’

Liana didn’t reply and Rosa looked at the phone to see if they’d been cut off, but the call was still ongoing.

‘Here, let me try,’ Aaron said and she handed him the phone. And bit back the response that him speaking to his mother couldn’t magically make the connection better.

‘Mom? We’re locked on the top floor of the house. Hello? Hello?’

Rosa waited as Aaron fell silent, and then he looked at the display on the phone and sighed. ‘It cut off. I don’t think she got any of that.’

‘We could try someone else—’

She broke off when thunder echoed again, this time followed by a vicious flash of lightning. And then everything went dark.

‘Aaron?’

‘Yeah, I’m here.’

Her panic ebbed somewhat with the steadiness of his voice. ‘Does this mean what I think it means?’

‘Yeah, the power went out.’ She heard movement, and then the light of her phone shone between them. ‘The generator should be kicking in soon though.’

Silence spread between them as they waited.

And relief took the place of tension when the lights flickered on again.

‘I think we’re going to be stuck here for a while,’ Aaron said after a moment.

‘We could just try calling someone again.’

‘Who?’

‘Look up the number for the police,’ she snapped. Sucked in a breath. Told herself her confident façade was slipping. Ignored the voice in her head telling her it had slipped a long time ago.

Aaron didn’t reply and tapped on the screen of the phone. Then he looked up. ‘There’s no signal. It must have something to do with the electricity being out.’

‘That’s impossible. We can’t not have a connection.’

‘It’s Mariner’s Island,’ he said simply, as though it explained everything.

And, if she were honest with herself, it did. Mariner’s Island was tiny. The locals who lived and worked there did so for the sake of tourism. And it was the perfect tourist destination. In the summer. When the demands on power and the likelihood of storms were low.

There was a reason the airport had closed over the weekend. A reason the lights had gone out. The island thrived during summer, but survived during winter.

A clap of thunder punctuated her thoughts and she turned in time to see another flash of lightning streak across the sky. She badly wanted to try the door again, but when she turned back she saw Aaron watching her. And if she tried the door again she would be proving him right. She would be proving to him that she was running. She would look like a fool.

She didn’t want to look like a fool. A fool desperate not to be in the same room with the husband she’d left.

With the husband she still loved.

* * *

Again, Aaron found himself enthralled by the emotion on her face. She looked torn, though he didn’t know between what.

It wasn’t the ideal situation, them being locked in this room together. But it was what it was. And, since the storm was probably going to keep the good folk of Mariner’s Island in their homes, no one would be saving them for a while.

They’d have to accept that fact and do the best that they could.

It almost seemed as if he were okay with it. As if being alone with the woman who’d left him wouldn’t remind him of all the reasons he’d given himself for why she’d left.

His reluctance to be spontaneous. His caution surrounding their lives. How he always had to clean up the messes his mother created. How he did so without a word.

She hadn’t seemed to mind any of it before. But then she’d left, so what did he know?

‘You should turn your phone off.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Preserve the battery.’ He took off his jacket, loosened his tie. Threw them both over the couch. ‘We’re not calling anyone for a while, but we’ll have to do so tomorrow.’

‘But what if someone tries to contact us?’

‘No one is going to contact us.’

He opened the top button of his shirt, and then narrowed his eyes when he saw two suitcases in the corner of the room. He’d known something was up when he’d got to the top floor and saw that it hadn’t been set up for a party. Instead, it looked as it usually did when they visited normally.

Perhaps that had dulled his suspicions. He’d thought his mother had wanted them to share a meal, or that they’d meet there before going to the actual party.

He should have known better.

The pieces had only fallen into place when he’d seen Rosa. And he’d barely managed to see the whole picture those pieces painted when he’d been battling the emotion at seeing her again.

He walked over to the cases and laid them both on the bed. The first held men’s clothing. The second, women’s.

‘Is that lingerie?’

His lips twitched. ‘Yes.’

She’d come over from where she’d been standing on the opposite side of the bed and now began to throw the offending items out of the case. ‘Well, at least there are some other things here too.’ She paused. ‘Did your mother pack this?’

He shrugged.

‘The other things—’ she pulled out a casual-looking dress, holding it between her index finger and thumb ‘—are less...seductive, I suppose. But I don’t think any of them would fit me.’ She frowned. ‘If it was your mother, this makes no sense. She knows what size I am.’

‘Maybe the selection was meant to seduce anyway.’ He fought to steady his voice. ‘You’d be able to wear that, but it would be tighter than what you’re used to. Or more uncomfortable. So you’d—’

‘Be encouraged to wear the lingerie?’

‘I was going to say you’d look different.’ He said the words deliberately now, determined not to show her how the conversation was messing with his head.

‘There’s nothing wrong with how I usually dress.’

‘No,’ he agreed.

‘So...what? Tighter, more uncomfortable—different—clothing would seduce you? And then we’d reunite.’ She said the last words under her breath, as though saying them to herself. ‘There isn’t anything I can wear here that’s appropriate for this.’ She gestured around them.

‘I don’t think my mother intended this.’

‘Us being trapped?’

He nodded. ‘She probably wanted us to go out and enjoy the island like we have in the past.’ He let that sit for a moment. ‘You’re free to use whatever she’s packed for me.’

‘It’ll probably only be jeans and shirts.’

You could wear the lingerie, if you like.

The words seared his brain. Out loud, he said, ‘You’re welcome to help yourself.’

He walked to the other side of the room, as though somehow the distance would keep him from remembering her in lingerie. And what had happened after he’d seen her in lingerie. It would do nothing for his need for control to remember that.

He eyed the alcohol his mother had left on the counter of the kitchen—at least she’d done that—and reached for the rum and soda water, adding ice from the freezer. He was sipping it when he faced her again, but her back was towards him and the memories he’d tried to suppress struggled free, even though he couldn’t see her front.

But he didn’t need to.

Because, from where he stood, he could see the strong curve of her shoulders, the sweeping slope of her neck. He’d only have to press a kiss there, have his tongue join, and she would moan. She’d grab his hands as his mouth did its work and pull them around her, over her breasts, encouraging him to touch them...

He gritted his teeth. Reminded himself—again—that he needed to be in control. But his reaction wasn’t a surprise. His attraction to Rosa had always goaded him in this way. When he’d first seen her—her curves, the curls around her face, the golden-brown of her skin—it had kicked him in the gut.

He’d managed to ignore it for a full year, and only because both their mothers had been going through chemotherapy and acting on his attraction had seemed inappropriate. But their year of friendship hadn’t been enough for him. And their chemistry had constantly reminded him of its presence.

Stalking him. Mocking him.

It was why control was so important now. He couldn’t act on his attraction this time. He couldn’t show Rosa how much she’d hurt him when she’d left. And how shaken he was to see her again. He’d only just begun to face the fact that the morning she’d left might have been the last time he’d ever see her...

Control meant that he had a plan. And plans were how he lived his life. How he made sure his law firm remained successful. How he tried to make sure his mother hadn’t created another problem for him to fix.

He hadn’t had a plan in his marriage, and he’d wondered if that had contributed to how—and why—it had ended so abruptly.

Or had his need to plan been the cause of its end?

He took a long drag from his drink and shook the feelings away. He might not know if his plans—his need for control—had contributed to Rosa leaving, but having a plan was the only way he’d survive the night.

Now he just had to come up with one.

CHAPTER THREE

‘DO YOU HAVE any intention of offering me a drink?’ Rosa asked when she turned back and saw Aaron sipping from a glass. It was filled with golden liquid, the kind she was pretty sure would help steady the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

‘What do you want?’ he asked flatly.

She almost winced. ‘Whatever you’re having is fine.’

He nodded and went about making her drink. She walked towards him cautiously and then busied herself with putting the bottles from the counter into the cabinet beneath. It wasn’t necessary, but it was a way to keep her hands busy. Especially since something about his expression made her want to do something remarkably different with her hands.

Or was that because the clothing—the lingerie—had reminded her of all the times she’d wanted to seduce him? Of all the times it had worked?

Her hands shook and she waited for them to steady before she packed the last bottle away.

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I know.’

But I was thinking about all the times we made love and I needed a distraction.

‘Do you think your mother left something for us to eat?’

‘Try the fridge.’

She did, though she wasn’t hungry. Again, it was just because she wanted something to do. To distract from the ache in her body. From the ache in her heart.

She found the fridge fully stocked.

‘How nice of her,’ Rosa said wryly. Her patience with Liana had dropped dramatically after the seductive clothing thing. And now, finding the fridge filled with food, she couldn’t deny that Liana had planned this any more.

She’d indulged Liana over the years she’d got to know the woman. Understandably, she thought, considering Liana’s history with her mother. With her, during Violet’s declining health. And...after.

But Rosa had let that influence her view of Liana’s actions. Actions that Rosa had condoned by not speaking out. She wouldn’t let that happen again—once they got out of their current situation.

‘It’s full?’

‘Yeah.’ The hairs on her neck stood when Aaron moved in behind her to look for himself. ‘There’s this dish—’ she took it out, handed it to him—anything to get him away from her ‘—which I assume is something readymade for this evening. And the rest is ingredients to make meals. Eggs, vegetables, that sort of thing.’

‘There was some meat in the freezer.’

Rosa closed the fridge. ‘She’s thought of everything, hasn’t she?’

‘She generally does,’ Aaron said and handed her the drink. She braced herself for the contact, but it didn’t help. A spark flared anyway. She’d never really been able to come to terms with the attraction she felt for him. That she’d felt for him since day one.

Or with your love for him, a voice whispered in her head, reminding her of why she’d had to leave—before either of those things had tempted her into staying.

Staying wouldn’t have done either of them any good.

‘She just doesn’t think about consequences.’

‘Oh, I think she knows.’ She removed the foil that covered the top of the dish and found a rice and chicken meal of some kind. She took out two plates and, without asking him if he wanted any, dished portions for both of them. ‘That there are consequences, I mean.’

‘But she never stops to consider what those consequences might be.’ His voice was steady, but there was frustration there. He’d never been able to hide it completely when he was talking about his mother. ‘You know how many times I’ve had to deal with consequences that weren’t favourable. Like the time she gave her car to a guy she met at a conference she attended.’

Rosa nodded. ‘She thought it would be easier for him to get to his job in the city if he had a car. And that would make sure he didn’t lose his job, and that he’d be able to look after his family.’

‘Instead, the man still lost his job because he couldn’t drive, and he ended up selling the car, which then got him into trouble with the police because she hadn’t transferred the car into his name.’

‘And you had to sort it all out,’ she said softly. The microwave sounded, and she handed Aaron the heated plate before putting in her own. ‘I’m sorry, ba—’

She stopped herself. She’d been about to call him ‘baby’. And it wouldn’t have been like the ‘honey’ he’d called her when she’d first tried to leave. No, that had been said sardonically. This? This would have been said lovingly. Endearingly.

It was because of the routine she’d slipped into. Dishing for him, heating his food. Normal parts of what had been their life before. But that life was gone. She’d walked away from it. It didn’t matter why or how—she had. Which meant accepting that she couldn’t just slip back into routine.

The microwave finished heating her food and she used it as an excuse to turn her back to him. To ignore the emotion that was swirling inside her.

‘You didn’t change,’ he said into the silence that had settled in the room. She took her plate and drink to the couch and tried to figure out how to sit down without the slit revealing her leg.

‘No,’ she replied after a moment, and then gave up and lowered to the seat. She set her food on the coffee table in front of them, covered as much leg as she could and then took a long sip of the drink before she answered him. ‘As I predicted, there were only a couple of shirts in there and jeans. The jeans wouldn’t fit me.’

He settled at the opposite end of the couch. ‘You could have worn one of the shirts.’

She lifted a brow. ‘And that wouldn’t have been...distracting?’

‘What you’re wearing now isn’t?’

His eyes lowered to the leg she’d been trying to cover, and then moved up to her cleavage.

‘I’ll go change,’ she said in a hoarse voice, setting her drink down.

‘No, you don’t have to.’

His gaze lifted to her face, though his expression didn’t do anything to help the flush that was slowly making its way through her body.

‘It’s probably for the best.’

‘Are you afraid I’ll do something neither of us wants?’

‘No.’

Because both of us would want it.

‘I just think it would be better for us not to...cross any boundaries.’

‘Are there boundaries?’ he asked casually, though she wasn’t fooled by it. She could hear the danger beneath the façade. ‘I didn’t realise a married couple had boundaries.’

‘That’s not quite what we are now, though.’

‘No? Did I miss the divorce papers you sent to me while you were in Cape Town?’

Bile churned in her stomach. ‘There are no divorce papers.’ She frowned. ‘You knew where I was?’

He nodded. ‘I needed to make sure you were okay.’

She closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think—’

‘That I’d want to know that you were alive?’

‘I took my clothes. I thought—’ She broke off as shame filled her. ‘I should have let you know.’

A chill swept over her as she took in his blank expression. ‘You said we aren’t quite married, but you haven’t asked for a divorce.’ He stopped, though she clearly heard the yet he hadn’t said. ‘Which is it, Rosa?’

And, though his expression was still clear of emotion, the danger in his voice was coming out in full now. She swallowed and reached for her drink again.

‘I don’t want to get into this,’ she said after she’d taken another healthy sip. She’d need a refill soon if she went on like this.

‘You can’t get out of it. We’re stuck here.’

‘I know.’ Couldn’t forget it if she tried. ‘I also know that if we start talking about this stuff, being trapped here is going to be a lot harder than it needs to be.’

‘Stuff,’ he repeated softly. Her eyes met his and she saw the anger there. ‘Is that what you call leaving me after five years of being together? After three years of marriage?’

‘I call it life,’ she replied sharply. ‘Life happened, and I had to go.’ She stood. ‘There’s no point in rehashing it now.’

He stood with her, and the body she’d always loved cast a shadow over her. ‘Where are you going to go, Rosa?’ he asked. ‘There’s nowhere to run. This room is open-plan. The only other room is the bathroom, and even then you wouldn’t be able to stay there for ever.’

She took a step back. Lowered to the couch slowly. ‘You’re taking too much joy from this.’

‘This isn’t joy.’ He sat back down, though his body didn’t relax. She nearly rolled her eyes. What did he think he was going to have to do? Tackle her if she tried to get past him?

‘What would you call it then?’

‘Satisfaction. Karma.’

‘Karma?’ she said with a bark of laughter. ‘I didn’t realise you believed in karma.’

‘I didn’t. Until today. Now. When it’s become clear how much you want to run from this—from me—and can’t.’

Now she did roll her eyes. ‘And what are you paying for? What did you do that was so bad that you deserve to be locked in a room with the wife who left you?’

His features tightened. ‘Maybe I don’t believe in karma then.’

‘Sounds like you’re taking the easy way out.’

‘Or like I’m doing whatever the hell suits me.’ His voice was hard, and surprise pressed her to ask what she’d said that had upset him.

But she didn’t. She didn’t deserve to know.

‘Doing whatever the hell suits you does sound like you’re enjoying this.’

‘Maybe I am. Hard to tell since I’ve forced myself not to feel anything since you left.’

And there it was. The honesty, the vulnerability that had always seeped past the coolness he showed the world. The emotion that showed her how deeply he cared, even when he pretended he didn’t.

It had always managed to penetrate whatever wall she’d put up with him. Or whatever wall he’d put up to make her believe he didn’t feel. But he did. Which made her actions so much worse.

She’d done many stupid things in her life. Most of them because she’d wanted to find out who she was after giving so much of herself to her mother.

Like dropping out of college because she didn’t think they were teaching her what she needed to know about design.