Inconveniently Wed

Numbly she’d gone through the motions of filing to dissolve the marriage that had obviously meant so little to Valentin and yet had meant the world to her. He had meant the world to her. Until she’d been faced with his infidelity.

She’d been in such a state of shock. Was it possible she’d misunderstood Carla? But then again, if she had, why had Valentin so easily given her up? If he was as innocent as he protested himself to be, why—at any time in the next few weeks—didn’t he find her at the hotel she moved her things into until she could be released from her teaching contract and get the next flight back to the States? Instead, he’d simply let her go, which smacked of a guilty conscience to her—both then and now. Besides, she didn’t want to think for a minute that she’d made a mistake, or that she’d behaved rashly in the heat of the moment. Carla had had no reason to lie, and Imogene knew the other woman and Valentin had been an item before her own arrival in Africa. Valentin himself had told her. More fool her, she’d believed him when he’d said it was over—that Imogene was the only woman for him.

She was dragged back into the present by the sound of Valentin clearing his throat.

“So I’m guessing you’re a no, then?”

“You’re guessing right,” she answered adamantly.

“Not even prepared to think about it?” he coaxed.

“Not even,” she said firmly. “I will not marry a philanderer ever again.”

“Imogene.” He said her name softly, with a tone of regret lacing the three syllables together in a way that struck her at her core. “I was never unfaithful to you.”

“I know what I saw, Valentin. Don’t take me for a complete idiot.”

He shoved a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “What you saw was—”

“Your mistress, curled up in my sheets, in my bed, and stinking of you!” she answered viciously.

“It wasn’t what you thought it was.”

“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me you never slept with her?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, but I told you the truth when I said that had all been in the past. I was never unfaithful to you,” he affirmed.

“You say one thing. I saw another.”

Valentin took a step toward her and she took a step back, but her motion was halted by the wall behind her. She looked up at him, her nostrils flaring, her mouth drying as she studied his oh-so-familiar features. Involuntarily, she stared at the lines that had deepened around his eyes, the new ones on his forehead, the stubble that persistently made its presence felt even though he would have shaved only a short time ago. His face had been so dear to her once. If she closed her eyes now she could recall every aspect of it—the color of his eyes in exquisite detail, the short dark lashes that intently framed those eyes, the way that special shade of blue darkened and deepened when he was aroused. The way they were doing now.

A bolt of desire hit her. There had never been any other man who had this effect on her. Ever. Only Valentin. No one had ever come close to him, nor, she admitted ruefully, would again. Which left her between the devil and the deep blue sea, didn’t it? Go against everything she’d promised herself she would never accept, or settle for less than what she knew Valentin could give her.

“Can we call a truce?” Valentin asked, his voice husky.

She knew that sound, knew he was gripped by the same intense need for her that she suffered for him. But in her case it was only for him. Could he say the same? She doubted it.

“Maybe,” she answered reluctantly.

“What brought you here today?” he asked.

“You tell me first,” she insisted, unwilling to show any weakness to this man who’d had the power to love her forever or destroy her, yet had chosen the latter.

“Fine,” he said abruptly. “When I asked Nagy to find me a wife, I had a clear picture in mind. I wanted a companion, someone to come home to at the end of the day who I can share my innermost thoughts with. Someone, most of all, who wants a child, or children. After you left me, I thought I could live my life without a family of my own, but as I grow older I find I can’t see a future without a wife and children in it, nor do I want to be alone for the balance of my days. I guess it’s part of the human condition to want to be a part of something, to know a part of you will continue long after you’re gone.”

Imogene felt unexpected tears prick at her eyes. The words he’d chosen, his reasons for being here today, they were so similar to her own. How could they have this in common and yet be so wrong for each other at the same time?

Valentin continued, “Is that why you approached Nagy’s company, too?”

“If I’d known it was your grandmother’s company, I would have run in the other direction as fast as I could,” she said defiantly. But then she softened, the fight spilling out of her. “Yes,” she said simply. “That’s exactly why I signed my contract. I want children in my life. Not just other people’s children. My own. To love. Unconditionally. But more than that, I want a partner. Someone I can rely on. Someone I can trust.”

Trust.

The word hung on the air between them. Valentin drew in a deep breath. Trust had been in short supply back in Africa, and not just within his marriage. All around them had been the constant threat of danger as a struggling government fought against corruption on every level. Even within the hospital there had been those he knew he could not rely on.

“Trust is a two-way street, is it not?” he asked gently.

“Always. You never had any reason not to trust me, Valentin. Ever.”

“Whereas you feel you cannot trust me. That’s what you’re saying?”

“Based on past experience, what else can I say? You broke our marriage vows, not I.”

The old frustration and anger bubbled from deep inside. She wouldn’t listen to him back then; he doubted she’d listen to him now.

“So that leaves us at a stalemate, doesn’t it? Unless you’re prepared to put the past aside.”

Imogene looked at him incredulously. “You think I should just forget you screwed another woman in our bed?” She deliberately chose strong language, not prepared to soften what he’d done by describing it with any moniker associated with the word love. “Just put it aside as if it didn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter because it never happened. Did you see me that day, Imogene? No, because I wasn’t there. You wouldn’t give me a chance to talk to you before having that lawyer serve papers on me. Perhaps you will at least do me that courtesy now.” He pressed on, knowing he had a captive audience. It had bothered him intensely that Imogene never allowed him the opportunity to present his side of what she thought she’d seen. If anything it had underscored how wrong they’d been for each other that she’d been prepared to cast him in the villain’s role so immediately. “Look, I know you were shocked to discover Carla in our house, let alone our bed. When I gave her the key to the place it was supposed to be so she could get some sleep between shifts because the doctors’ lounge had been appropriated for more patient beds. You know the crazy hours we were working and the volume of patients we had to deal with. Carla was overdue a break and I said she could use our place because it was close to the hospital. I didn’t know she planned to have company. Imogene, I barely got to see you. If I had free time, why would I have spent it with her?”

“Why indeed,” Imogene answered with an arch of her brow and a lift of her chin.

He let go a huff of irritation. “I wasn’t the one with her that day.”

“That’s not what she led me to believe.”

“She told you I was there?”

Imogene hesitated. Replayed the words in her head as she’d done so very many times before.

“Not in so many words,” Imogene conceded.

“And yet you still don’t believe me.”

“I don’t. I can’t.”

Hearing the underlying pain in her words made Valentin think again. She sounded as though she were in an internal battle. That maybe, just maybe, she wanted to believe him. He wondered how he’d feel in the same situation. Torn. Confused. And facing the realization that if she believed him, then that would have made the past seven years of loneliness and sorrow, the end of their marriage, all her fault. But it wasn’t. While he had never been unfaithful to Imogene, he knew he should have done more at the time to fight for their marriage—followed after her, insisted she see him instead of letting her hide in the only decent hotel in town until she flew out.

He knew Carla could be intimidating. The woman had a confidence many women he’d met lacked. She’d set her sights on Valentin as soon as he’d arrived on his volunteer service and they’d had a brief, intense fling. It wasn’t until Imogene came on the scene that Carla had begun to eye him again, and she’d made it clear to everyone, Imogene included, that he was hers for the taking. But Carla had been wrong. From the minute Valentin had seen Imogene there had been only one woman for him.

She still was that woman.

Admitting that didn’t come easily. Pride had always been an issue for him. A child prodigy, he wasn’t used to making mistakes. His world had been filled with successes, each more glowing than the last. His failed marriage to Imogene had been the one black mark on the pristine blotter of his life. It was something he felt bound to rectify. If he could persuade her to give him, them, another chance, then maybe they could make things work.

His grandmother’s words repeated in the back of his mind. Be certain that you won’t spend the rest of your lives wondering if you should have given each other another chance. Would he regret it if he didn’t try again? Looking at Imogene now, resplendent in her bridal gown—the same woman who’d stood with him in a hurried civil ceremony all that time ago, and yet different in subtle ways he ached to explore—he knew the answer to that was a solid, unequivocal yes.

He chose his next words carefully. “So is there nothing I can do to persuade you to consider marrying me again?”

“I can’t believe you even want to think about us marrying again,” she shot back.

“Why not? Let’s remove emotion from the equation and try to look at this logically. We both approached marriage this time in a more clinical fashion, and yet look at us. Here together again. Let’s not discount the science that went into our pairing.”

“Science!” She snorted in disbelief. “More like your grandmother’s tampering with the results.”

“And why would she do that if it would only make us unhappy?”

He knew he had made his point when she conceded.

“So what are you suggesting? That we give this a go? I’ll be honest with you, Valentin. I don’t hold hopes for things being any different than they were the first time. We may have gotten along in bed, but we had very little in common outside of it. Carla aside, and as difficult as it is to admit, I don’t think we’d have lasted the distance. We met in a hothouse of extreme circumstances. It wasn’t a normal relationship in any sense of the word.”

“Then why not give it a chance and see how we do in a more traditional setting? We’re unlikely to find another match that can make us both feel like this,” he said, before reaching out one finger and tracing the line of her lower lip.

Shock and desire warred with each other as he felt her softness. Her warmth. The gasp of heated breath as her lips parted. Every muscle in his body clenched in anticipation of closing the distance between them. Of tasting that tender flesh and discovering if she was still as sweet, and as tart, as she used to be. Valentin watched as a light flush colored Imogene’s cheeks and as her pupils dilated to almost consume her irises.

While she battled with her emotions, Valentin pressed on. “Imogene, look at it this way. We have a rock-solid prenup in force. We have a three-month out clause. What have we got to lose?”

He saw her internal battle reflected in her eyes. Heard it in her every ragged breath. Sensed the moment of weakness, the chink in her armor, and took the opportunity to drive straight through it.

“And children, Imogene. Think about the kids we would have together if it all worked out. The family we always wanted. I promise you, if you agree to marry me again, you won’t regret it. I will be faithful to you. I will see to it that I meet your every need as your husband and your life partner. I failed you last time. I never fought for you the way I should have, so I’m fighting for you now. I realize that I had tunnel vision when it came to my work, which left very little beyond the physical for you. I never saw the cracks when they appeared in our marriage. Never saw how vulnerable you had become. If I had been a better husband, you would never have jumped to the conclusion that I had been unfaithful. I won’t let that happen again if you give us another chance. What will your answer be? Will you marry me?”

Three

She said yes.

Alice Horvath couldn’t even begin to describe the sense of relief that overtook her when Valentin came out of the office and informed her the wedding would go ahead. She hadn’t wanted to believe it wouldn’t—she did, after all, trust her instincts wholeheartedly—and persuading others she was never wrong was rarely the issue, but it seemed that when it came to her grandsons, she was two for two, so far, on having her judgment questioned.

Valentin had gone to rejoin his brother, Galen, and a handful of cousins, who had congregated at the front of the function room. Alice took a moment to find her medication in her handbag before resuming her seat. This darned pain in her chest was becoming tiresome. She certainly didn’t have time for it now. She fought the urge to rub at it. It never did anything anyway. Ah, there was her pillbox. She popped a tablet under her tongue just as Imogene came out of the office.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Horvath?” she asked.

“I’m fine, my dear. And let me say that I’m so glad you’ve decided to go ahead with the wedding.”

“Let’s just say your grandson can be very persuasive.”

Alice looked at the younger woman carefully. It was easy to see why Valentin had been attracted to her in the first place. The dark auburn hair and delightful figure aside, Imogene O’Connor had a rare exquisite beauty that was very clearly underlined with a strong personality and bright intelligence. During her background checks, Alice had discovered that over the past seven years, Imogene had grown her early-childhood centers into a business that had just been franchised nationwide. She was a strong and independent young woman with a good head on her shoulders, but it was the emotional side of Imogene that intrigued Alice most. She knew Imogene had rarely dated after her return from Africa. Whether it was because she was too busy for a new relationship or that she simply wasn’t emotionally ready, Alice was glad the other woman hadn’t rushed headlong into someone and something else.

When Alice looked at Valentin, with his aloof and slightly dark nature, together with the bright flame of light this woman epitomized, she knew Imogene was unquestionably the yin to his yang. The computer data and her specialists had backed up her instincts completely. She would never have taken a risk with either of these young people’s happiness otherwise. Life was just too precious, as she was becoming all too well aware.

The tablet continued to dissolve under her tongue, and incrementally the angina that had become such a plague in recent months began to ease. Alice inhaled carefully, relieved to feel the last of the tightness disappear, and directed a smile at the beautiful bride in front of her.

“Shall we return to the ceremony?” she asked.

“Perhaps you could ask my mom to join me again,” Imogene said in a voice that was just a little indecisive. “I’d feel better with her beside me.”

“Certainly.” Alice turned to leave, then hesitated and looked back to Imogene before reaching out to take her hand and squeeze it lightly. “You won’t regret this, you know. It may not be an easy road back to loving each other the way you did before. In fact, I hope the two of you discover a different kind of love this time. Something stronger, something that will endure. That’s my wish for you and Valentin.”

“It remains to be seen.”

“Yes, it does. And it will take hard work from both of you.”

Imogene gave her a nod and Alice turned away. These two were going to have an interesting time of it—of that she was certain.

Imogene went through the motions, repeating the words uttered by the celebrant standing before her and listening to Valentin do the same. The service was simple, without the personal touches that it might have had if they’d planned this day together. In many ways it was about as detached as their first wedding had been, although the celebrant today tried to invest the ceremony with a great deal more joy than the slightly bored local official who’d performed their ceremony back in Africa.

Africa. She had to stop thinking about that time and comparing it to now. It was another world ago.

Today was a new beginning. One she’d agreed to pursue. She still wasn’t even certain how Valentin had persuaded her to go ahead with it. All she knew was that with that one touch of his fingertip to her lips, he’d reminded her of the incendiary attraction they’d shared. Just one fingertip and she’d made a decision that would affect her for the rest of her life. Her entire body had reacted, concentrated on that mere touch. No one else had ever had the ability to set her alight with the brush of a finger the way he did. Which was a good thing, she’d always told herself as she’d pointed her attentions into her career and into establishing, then expanding, her business. Dating had been, for lack of a better word, a bland experience once she’d decided to test the waters again. But that very blandness was what had put her in search of a matchmaking service that would find her something better than bland. Had she been unconsciously searching for a relationship like what she had with Valentin all along? The idea was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

And more important, now that she had agreed to go ahead, where would they go from here?

“You may now kiss your bride.”

The celebrant’s words penetrated her thoughts, dragging her back to the reality that was her wedding day. Her eyes flared wide as she caught Valentin’s smile and she froze in place. His eyes locked with hers, a serious expression reflecting back at her as he lifted her left hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her wedding finger.

“This is the ring you deserved all along,” he murmured before leaning closer.

She barely caught her breath before she felt the pressure of his lips against hers. Sensation bloomed through her like a starburst, radiating to the tips of her fingers and the soles of her feet, not to mention everywhere in between. She parted her lips in response, kissing him back instinctively. Her hand rested on his chest for a brief moment before sliding up to his neck. The texture of his slightly long hair against her fingers sent another jolt of awareness surging through her and she lifted slightly upward. Valentin’s arm curled around her waist, holding her to him.

It had always been like this between them. This intensity. This overwhelming need to be close. Closer still. As if the world began and ended with each other.

“Um, guys?” Valentin’s brother, Galen, interrupted them. “Care to leave something for the honeymoon?”

The gathered crowd laughed at his words and Valentin slowly drew away, leaving Imogene feeling more than a little stunned by what had just happened between them. Seven years. Actually, to be precise, seven years, three months, two weeks and five days since she’d walked out of his life. And still she was as hopelessly overcome by him.

“Are you okay?” Valentin asked gently, his arm still around her waist and his blue eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.

“Well, aside from my lipstick, which is probably demolished right now, I’m fine,” she said as coolly as she could manage given the rapid beat of her pulse and the tingling shocks that still lingered in parts of her body that hadn’t tingled in far too long.

He gave her a smile, took her hand again, and together they turned to face the assembly.

“I give you Mr. and Mrs. Horvath!” the celebrant triumphantly declared before surreptitiously wiping at his brow with a handkerchief.

They were married. Imogene couldn’t quite believe it. Her synapses were still somewhat fried by that kiss. But there was no mistaking the strong fingers that were wrapped around her own, nor the steady presence of the dark-suited man standing beside her. Her mother rushed forward, her cheeks still wet with tears, to congratulate them both. But as she drew back again she fixed Valentin with a stern eye.

“Don’t mess it up this time, young man. You’re lucky to get a second chance with my girl. Look after her.”

“I will,” Valentin promised.

Imogene felt a sting of embarrassment at her mother’s words, but the gentle pressure of Valentin’s hand signaled he’d taken no offense. She knew her mother would never understand why she’d made her choice to go ahead today. But then again, maybe she would. After all, her own husband had conducted many, albeit discreet, affairs during their marriage. Which was another reason Imogene had felt so strongly about infidelity. She’d always wondered why her mother had agreed to settle for less than 100 percent from her husband. Why she’d allowed other women to fill his life, where she rightly belonged. But then again her mother accepted a lot of things in the pursuit of her ordered life. Heavily involved in charity work, she enjoyed the distinction of being married to a leading international human rights lawyer. Of being perceived as calm and unflappable and the perfect hostess at all times. Imogene had learned early in her life that she wanted far more than that when she married. And she’d thought she had it with Valentin when they’d fallen so instantly and passionately in love.

Could they achieve that together again? She thought of the words Alice had spoken to her just before the ceremony, about it not being an easy road back to loving each other again. Could they even hope to love each other again? she wondered. When she’d agreed to go ahead with this, the only thing she’d locked her mind onto was her main goal in this entire venture. A child, or children, of her own to love. But to love her husband, too? She flickered a glance up at Valentin. She wasn’t sure if she could trust herself to trust him again, let alone love him.

Her insides clenched at the idea of making a baby. He’d made it patently clear he wanted children, too. Would that be enough to be the glue that would hold them together?

He also told you he was never unfaithful to you, a snide voice whispered in the back of her mind. In fact, he’d been adamant on that point, promising she had nothing to fear on that score. She wished she could believe him. Her eyes had told her a different story seven years ago. But she couldn’t think about that now. She’d made her choice. She’d agreed to marry him and agreed that once their three-month trial period was up, if they were still together, they’d start trying for their family. And until then, she could only wait and see.

Valentin fought his frustration. He was never good with crowds, and this crowd was too happy, too noisy and very much too in his face. He had to concede that everyone here was celebrating his wedding, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Not when every cell in his body urged him to take Imogene by the hand again and whisk her to where the helicopter waited on the expansive lawn outside so they could head to SeaTac, and then in one of the Horvath private jets to Rarotonga for their honeymoon. He couldn’t wait for that part, but even though that kiss to seal their marriage had been better than everything he’d remembered, he knew that this time he and Imogene needed to tread carefully if they were going to make their union work.