Dena smiled through her tears, remembering the way she’d stood in this very room with her hands on her hips, telling him that was a fine way to ensure they had a boy.
“It’s a girl,” he’d said. “A daddy knows these things.”
She remembered now how he’d originally set up the nursery to surprise her and as a way to show her he’d accepted the idea of the baby and grown excited about it. She’d come home from a long day at the office and he’d barely been able to contain himself, leading her down the hallway with his hands over her eyes. He showed her the crib he’d bought and put together. For hours that night they sat on the nursery floor and spoke in excited whispers about their hopes and dreams for their child.
Five weeks later and for reasons unknown, barely twenty weeks into her pregnancy, she’d miscarried. Their tiny daughter was born too fragile to even take her first breath.
Excitement had turned to grief and their grief had become bitter.
“Never found the strength to put her things away.”
Dena jumped at Jeff’s voice, but she didn’t turn around.
“She’d be just over three now,” he continued. “Too big for a crib. We’d have to get her a bed…”
He remembered her. Thought of her. Missed her. A father’s love, unchanged by death.
“Sometimes at night,” she whispered, “I put my hand on my belly. It’s almost like I can feel her kick.”
“I only felt her that once.” His voice was laced with pain.
“I tell myself she was …” Dena paused, wiping at the tears running down her cheeks, but it didn’t do any good; others fell in their place. “She was too perfect for this world. She left before anything bad or evil could touch her.”
Nothing from Jeff. She looked up to the window but couldn’t see his reflection.
She closed her eyes. “Then I think, what if it was me? What if she had to leave because I would have messed her up?”
“For God’s sake. Dena, no.” He was behind her in a second, his hands rubbing her shoulders, and she resisted the urge to sag against him. “It wasn’t you.”
“She was all that was good and whole and pure.” A sob ripped from her throat. The doctors had been unable to tell her what had gone wrong. They said it could have been any number of things. “And I wasn’t good enough to hold on to her.”
His hands tightened on her shoulders. “You are. You are good enough.”
She turned to face him. She had to see his face when he answered her question. She didn’t know why she could ask him now when they’d gone so long without talking about it. Maybe it was because he was moving away for who knew how long or because they’d been intimate. Maybe she’d finally gotten to the point where it didn’t cause her physical pain to talk about it. “Then why aren’t I good enough for you?”
He turned white. “That’s what you think? That you’re not good enough for me? Christ, Dena. What have I done to you?”
“I know you’re leaving for Colorado because of your father. But it feels like you’re leaving me. Again. What is it I keep doing that makes you not want me anymore?”
“That’s not it. That was never it.” He cupped her cheek. “Letting you go ripped a hole in my heart so big it aches every time I breathe.”
Standing so close to him, she almost believed him. But it was easy to say the words. Words were cheap. “I don’t believe you. You won’t even let me get you off, much less really take me. What am I supposed to think?”
“I want you.” He ran his thumb over her lips while he gazed into her eyes. “I’ll want you till I die.”
She’d balled her fists so tight, her nails dug into her palms, but she forced her chin up. Words. Again with the words. She wanted more. “Prove it.”
“Dena.”
“I’m not asking for anything beyond tonight. Just tonight. I need you. I need to feel … something.”
He wouldn’t do it. She knew he wouldn’t. He’d turn her down, and in the morning she’d be ashamed to face him, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“Make love to me. I know I said you’d have to beg me, but now I’m begging you. Please.”
“Don’t, Dena.” He kissed the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t beg me. I want you. I need you. And I’m finished pretending otherwise.”
He nearly shook with the knowledge that she blamed herself for the miscarriage. Was that why she’d left him so many years ago? Out of guilt? Did she think he blamed her? The doctors had told them there was nothing she could have done differently. Damn it all. He should have made her talk to him instead of just letting her move out of his house.
He should probably talk to her now, but he couldn’t stop touching her. His lips needed to be on her and his hands needed to feel her.
Later, he promised himself. We’ll talk later.
He swept her into his arms, picking her up and eliciting a whimper of surprise from her. Effortlessly, he carried her down the hall to his bedroom. “You damn well belong in my bed.”
She stared at him wide-eyed as he deposited her on the bed and stood back to undress.
“I’m an ass, Dena. I’m an overbearing, know-it-all, selfish ass. And I’ve hurt you. I’ve made you feel unwanted, undesirable, and unloved.” His shirt fluttered to the floor, and he went to work on his pants. “Let me make it up to you. I can’t come close and it’s not nearly enough, but it’s all I have.”
She sat up and started to take her shirt off.
“No,” he said. “Let me. I don’t want you to do anything but let me bring you pleasure.”
“Damn it,” she said, and she took her shirt off anyway. “What will it take to make you understand that serving you brings me pleasure?”
She amazed him. She always had. And he didn’t deserve her. But if she wanted him, he wasn’t going to argue tonight.
“That’s the way you want it?” he asked.
“Please. Sir.”
He grew harder, and he forced his voice to remain low and soft as he spoke the words he knew he needed to give her. “Come to me, my Angel.”
Her eyes darkened and her breath hitched. One lone tear streaked down her cheek, but she rose to her knees and made her way to him.
“Don’t cry,” he said, taking her in his arms. “Please, don’t cry.”
“Say it again.”
He brushed his thumb under her eye, capturing a new tear. “Angel.”
She sighed, and her breath was shaky. “Thank you.”
“You will always be my Angel.”
She looped her arms around his neck, and he dropped his lips to hers. He wanted to show her how much he still needed her after all their years apart, and suddenly he couldn’t touch enough of her. He kissed her like a hungry man, drinking in the smell and feel of her, relishing in the warmth of her skin.
He gently pushed back on her shoulders so she rested on the bed, and he held himself over her. She stroked his cheek softly. The hole she’d made in his heart by leaving didn’t feel quite as empty anymore.
He nuzzled her neck, knowing it was one of her most sensitive spots. He was just getting ready to nibble her ear, another favorite spot, when the phone on his nightstand rang. Dena stiffened under him.
“Ignore it,” he said.
“Phone calls this time of night are never good.”
He shifted to the other side of her neck and peppered it with kisses. “Then I won’t answer. Ignore it.”
“What if—”
“Relax, Angel. I’ve got everything under control. Nothing’s going to interrupt us.” He ran a hand down her body, tracing her curves.
He continued teasing her with his lips and touch. He’d once known every inch of her. He’d known how and when to touch her. When