CHAPTER Twelve
It was midnight by the time Connor pushed open the front door. The coolness of the night had already settled like a blanket over the house. As they crossed the darkened entrance hall, Victoria finally broke the silence that had clung to her like a heavy pall on the way home.
“You were right,” she said listlessly, “I should’ve invited him—them—to the wedding.”
“Victoria, you couldn’t have known—”
“He called me. He wanted to see me more often. I told him I didn’t believe we could sustain a relationship.” She glanced at Connor. “I was afraid, in case he walked away like he’d always done.”
“You think he’s going to let Juliet down, too, don’t you?”
She spread her hands. “I hope not. But I don’t know. He doesn’t have a good track record at staying—or being responsible. But to be fair, my mother didn’t try very hard either. She just gave up. I thought that was what loving someone meant. Pain and unhappiness.”
“Don’t underestimate Juliet. There’s toughness under that merry cheerfulness.”
“She’d better be made of steel to survive my father.”
There was no bitterness. It was what she genuinely believed. He considered her. “Frank was a bad father.”
“Yes. Between him and my mother, I was determined never to have to rely on someone for money or love. But I don’t think they ever loved each other—they got married because of me.”
Was that why she was so desperate to be successful? Connor wondered. Or was it independence rather than success that she craved? That rang more true. If she could take care of herself, she wouldn’t need to be reliant on a father … or a husband. Suddenly a lot made sense.
It was possible, too, that she saw Dylan as the opportunity to relive her own upbringing. This time with a happy ending.
In a moment of clarity Connor recognized that Victoria had never anticipated a happy ending for herself—her parents had seen to that. Yet she’d married him. He ached for her. She’d chosen to move in with a man she despised rather than leave Dylan vulnerable.
She had backbone all right, this wife of his.
He opened his arms. “Your father is going to be okay. Come, let me hold you.”
“I don’t know whether my father and I can ever find common ground. But I won’t close this door on him again.” She came into his arms without hesitation.
Connor started off intending to give comfort, and found instead that by holding her close, her warmth and softness filled a chasm that he hadn’t even been aware of having.
Last time she’d asked to be held, he hadn’t been ready. He’d been too full of grief.
But now he was ready.
Slowly he inhaled her sweet, feminine scent and realized that he never wanted to let her go. That she had crept into his life, into his heart. That she had become a part of him.
By the time she pulled away, Connor knew that the healing had finally begun.
Victoria stepped into Bridget Edge’s office the following morning and shut the door behind her with a gentle thud. She’d given much thought to what she was about to do. After the shock of her father’s heart attack and Connor’s surprising tenderness in the aftermath, she’d come to the conclusion it was the only option open to her.
Entering the large office that was the domain of the managing partner made her feel a little like a schoolgirl appearing in front of the head mistress. And the steely look in Bridget’s gaze did little to ease the butterflies already fluttering in Victoria’s stomach.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Bridget, I’ve come to give you my resignation.”
“Have a seat.” Bridget waved to the chair opposite her, barely glancing at the white envelope Victoria set down on the desk. “You’re very valuable to us. Why do you want to leave?”
With a sigh, Victoria settled into the chair. “I need some time to straighten my life out. We’ll also need to sort out what’s to be done about my share in the partnership.”
The older woman took off her stylish, dark-rimmed glasses and set them down on her gleaming cherrywood desk. “You’ve been under a great deal of emotional stress—and your role here at Archer, Cameron & Edge is very demanding.”
Victoria nodded, relieved that Bridget understood her position. “I’m failing Dylan, too.”
“And Connor North?” Bridget’s brows rose. “Where does he fit in?”
That was the most difficult question of all. Victoria wasn’t sure of the answer herself.
Oh, Connor. Closing her eyes, she said, “He thinks I’m a terrible mother.”
And not the wife he wanted. What was going to happen to their marriage still needed to be resolved, and Victoria wasn’t looking forward to that discussion, either. Connor had been tiptoeing around her sensibilities since the news of her father’s heart attack, and hadn’t raised the subject again. But despite his gentleness, it would have to be dealt with.
Victoria hoped that her resignation from ACE would make Connor reconsider, that it would convince him how seriously she took her commitment to mothering Dylan.
“It’s far from easy juggling a demanding career and being the perfect wife and mother. We women have such high expectations of ourselves.”
Victoria gave a tired laugh, and opened her eyes. “You can say that again. I had such grand intentions.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Victoria.” Bridget sat forward in her tall leather chair. “It’s been a traumatic time for you—inheriting a baby, acquiring a husband and keeping up with your workload. I’m quite a fan of yours, you know.”
Staring at Bridget in disbelief, she said slowly, “No, I didn’t know. I thought I’d disappointed you, too.”
“Not at all.” Bridget gave her a smile. “I admired you two years ago when you told me that you were going to be an egg donor so that your best friend could have a baby. You were worried that I would be unhappy because the process would take time from your work.”
“Yes.” She’d been very concerned. Being a donor had been physically and emotionally taxing and had taken up time that had cut into her workday. “But you never objected once—aside from suggesting that I have counseling to make sure that I would be able to separate myself from the baby once it was born.”
“At the time I thought it unlikely that you would ever have children—you didn’t seem to have much of a life outside work. I thought that the baby might be your only one.”
Victoria watched as Bridget glanced at a photo on her desk, then back at her.
“You probably don’t know I was engaged once.”
“No, I didn’t.” Victoria had perceived Bridget as having no life away from ACE Accounting. She couldn’t help wondering what had gone wrong with the engagement.
Bridget must have seen the questions in her eyes. “We were touring, on a motorcycle. He drove, I rode pillion. There was an accident—an oncoming driver overtaking recklessly. They told me I was lucky. I broke my back—he died.”
The image of Bridget young, on holiday and riding a motorcycle with her lover shifted Victoria’s entire perception of her. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was almost twenty-five years ago.” Bridget gave her a small smile. “I got over it. But, as you may realize, what I have isn’t the life I imagined for myself. I pictured myself at fifty-five with a happy marriage, children all grown up and a successful career. I thought I would have it all.”
Sadness for the other woman filled Victoria. “Thank you for sharing this.”
“I want you to know that I understand a little of what you may be feeling. Loss and emptiness are terrible things. You lost your friend. But you have a baby—and a husband. Enjoy them. Resign if you must. But if your husband knows you as he should, he won’t want you to give up your career for him, or even for the baby. If he loves you, he’d want you to find a solution that lets you have it all, without stressing you to death in the process.” Another smile softened the words. “But I’ll accept your resignation, if that’s what you decide you really want.”
Victoria felt infinitely lighter, as though a load of expectation had been taken from her shoulders. She started to thank Bridget but the other woman interrupted her.
“Of course, there is another option that may bear thinking about. Why don’t we rearrange your hours? Perhaps you can come in three days a week? Or five mornings? It’ll be easy to organize, now that you’ve hired a junior accountant to help you.”
“But partners have to work full time—it’s in my contract,” Victoria protested.
“Archer, Cameron & Edge wouldn’t want to lose you, Victoria.” Bridget gave her a wink. “Particularly when there’s a chance that we might secure the account of the Phoenix Corporation. Reducing hours wouldn’t even impact on your profit share—I’d make sure of that.”
Victoria couldn’t help it, she laughed.
“You didn’t think this was all about philanthropy, did you?”
But Victoria had seen under the frigid exterior. A bond had been forged between them today that she knew would endure. A peculiar friendship. Bridget was not the hard-nosed harridan she always appeared to be.
Rising to her feet, Victoria picked up the envelope that still lay unopened on the desk. “I’ll think about cutting back my hours. It might be a solution.” If she could convince Connor that it would give her more time to spend with Dylan, and lessen her office load, there was a possibility that if could work.
Was there a chance that she could truly have it all?
“Good.” Bridget picked up her glasses and put them back on. “It will give you a chance to get through this time—and through the next few years.” She peered over the rims of her glasses. “I take it you will be having another child or two?”
Victoria gaped. “I—we—haven’t talked about that.” Connor had been determined to get her out of his life … not pregnant with his baby. That dampened her newly discovered optimism.
Bridget raised her brows. “Well, perhaps it’s time you did.”
Victoria left work early the next afternoon and dropped by the hospital to be greeted by the news that her father would be discharged the following day.
Both Frank and Juliet were thrilled.
“It’s a cause for celebration,” said Juliet. “And not the only celebration today, I believe. Surprise!”
Juliet whipped a bunch of wildflowers brightly wrapped in colored cellophane out of the bathroom.
Her father started to sing an off-key “Happy Birthday” and Victoria stared at them both in stunned disbelief.
“How did you …? You remembered,” she said, when she found her voice.
“I have a lot to make up for, Victoria. I forgot too many birthdays when you were growing up. Never again.” Frank met her eyes squarely. “Sometimes I wasn’t even … there.”
Victoria didn’t want to think back to those days.
Juliet had fallen silent, busying herself in the corner of the room, and Victoria felt a wave of gratitude for the other woman’s tact.
“Will you give me a chance to make it up to you?” Frank’s expression was uncertain.
He expected her to refuse.
She placed a hand over his. “Of course I will, Dad.” It was the first time she’d called him that in years. “A girl can’t refuse the chance to be spoilt to death by her father.”
“You’re worth it, Victoria.”
When her father turned away to take a sip of water from the glass on his bedside table, Victoria looked across to Juliet where she stood watching them both, a pleased smile on her face, and mouthed, “Thanks.”
She knew exactly who had bought the flowers and made sure that she and her father got the best shot at a reconciliation.
By the time Victoria got home she found Connor dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt that hung out over a pair of well-tailored dark pants. He’d recently shaved and his dark hair was still damp from a shower. He looked utterly divine.
And her heart sank at the realization that he was on his way out.
The only out-of-place note was the baby perched on his arm. Dylan flapped his arms and screeched when he saw her. A tidal wave of love crashed over Victoria.
She crossed the floor in three strides. “It’s good to see you, too, sweetie.”
He held out his arms and she took him, covering his face with little kisses. “Is that ticklish?” she asked as he giggled and squirmed in her arms. “You and I are going to play this evening.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” said Connor in that deep voice that did illegal things to her heartbeat. “I’m taking you out for dinner.”
Victoria lifted her head from the baby’s face. “That would be nice.”
Nice?
Who was she kidding?
She couldn’t wait.
When last had she been out on a date? Usually she used work as an excuse to put men off. She was too busy. She had to be at an audit early the next morning. She had a meeting. She’d used them all.
Work had become her excuse to avoid relationships with men.
Until Suzy and Michael’s death had forced her into a building relationship with Connor.
The last time she’d been out to dinner had been with Suzy and two of her teacher friends, Victoria remembered. A crazy night at an Italian restaurant eating slices of pizza and sipping Chianti and filled with gales of riotous laughter.
For the first time she didn’t ache at the memory of Suzy. There was only nostalgia and warmth and a glow of love. The terrible, yawning sense of loss had eased a little. She could think of the good times—there had been so many—without her throat knotting and tears catching her breath.
But she knew going out for dinner with Connor would be nothing like that hilarity-filled evening with Suzy and her friends. Dark excitement curled in her stomach.
“What about Dylan?”
“I’ve arranged for Anne to come in.”
“But doesn’t her mother need her in the evenings?”
“I booked a nurse to look after her mother.”
“Oh.” It was flattering that he’d gone to so much trouble. And that left her with no room for protest. “It looks like you’ve got everything covered.”
“I have.” He tossed her a knee-weakening grin. “Give Dylan to me and go shower and get dressed.”
Victoria obeyed, feeling like she was stepping into a void.
In the soft glow of the candlelight that gave the restaurant an intimate ambience, Connor studied Victoria. She was wearing a yellow, sleeveless dress with a scooped neck-line that left her shoulders and elegant neck exposed. The golden flame reflected in her eyes, giving them a mysterious sparkle.
He shifted, and keys jingled in his pocket. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was … how much she meant to him. He didn’t know where to start.
“I offered Bridget Edge my resignation today.”
Her words shocked him. “You didn’t.”
She nodded.
“But why?”
For an instant uncertainty glimmered in those lovely eyes. “So that I can spend more time with Dylan. So that you don’t divorce me, and take him away.”
“Tory!”
“Are you pleased?” She looked worried.
He tried to figure out what he felt. After Michael and Suzy’s deaths, he’d hoped that she’d resign and spend all her time with Dylan—like his mother had with him and Brett. Yet now there was only relief at the thought that the terrible pressure that had been on Victoria would ease. What with Suzy and Michael’s death, minding a baby, doing a demanding job and now her father’s heart attack … something had to give. And he didn’t want it to be Victoria who suffered.
But he knew she loved her work—and the independence it gave her—something he hadn’t understood when he’d met her two years ago.
“It’s not about whether I’m pleased—it’s what you want.” He chose his words carefully. “If you want to stay home all day with Dylan, you must do so. But if you want to work, then don’t feel you need to resign.” Had she resigned because she thought that was what he expected? Had he put that much fear into her?
God, he hoped not. That was the last reason in the world he wanted her to do it.
“Bridget was surprised, too.”
The waiter chose that moment to bring their meals—Tory’s steamed salmon and his steak. Connor waited impatiently for the waiter to finish tending them and leave.
“What did Frigid say?” he asked as he cut his steak.
“Don’t call her that,” she admonished, “she was very understanding. She suggested that I cut my hours back.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Victoria paused to swallow a mouthful of fish. “I think it might be a solution. If I go in the mornings it will give me all afternoon with Dylan.”
“Sounds feasible.” Already she was looking more at ease. And Connor was delighted.
“I had an interesting day, too.” He told her about the visit he’d gotten from the chairman of an infertility support group to whom Suzy and Michael had left a modest legacy. “Turned out that’s where they met.”
“It was driving me nuts—no one seemed to know.”
“They didn’t want people to know about what they saw as a humiliating flaw.”
“Neither of them were flawed,” said Victoria with some heat.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Connor finished the last bit of steak as Victoria down put her knife and fork. “I thought we might have some dessert.”
“That sounds lovely.”
But before he could signal to the waiter to bring the dessert menus, he heard someone call his name.
“Connor.”
He looked up. Dana was standing next to their table.
“It is you. I thought it must be, from the shape of your head.” Her gaze went past him and settled on Victoria. “I heard you’d gotten married.”
“Dana, our table is ready.” Paul came up behind her, and he didn’t meet Connor’s eyes. “We need to go through.”
She pouted prettily. “Soon, darling.” And turned back to Connor. “I didn’t think you’d ever marry.”
“The right woman came along.”
Annoyance flared in the dark-blue eyes. “How romantic, darling. I want to hear everything.” She shifted into the booth beside him, her black dress hiking up, and a stockinged thigh brushed his.
Instead of desire, all he felt was distaste.
By contrast, Victoria was smiling up at Paul and shaking hands as they introduced themselves. Elegant, gracious Victoria.
His wife.
Connor moved away from Dana imperceptibly.
Her hand landed on his thigh, high enough for her intent to be obvious. His distaste grew more pronounced.
“We came out to celebrate tonight,” said Paul. “Dana’s pregnant—she had a scan today.”
“A baby? How lovely.” But Victoria was looking at him, her hazel eyes velvety with concern.
“I always wanted a baby. Didn’t I, Connor darling?”
A wedding ring, more like. Threaded through his nose. Marriage to a wealthy man and a generous prenuptial contract had figured heavily in Dana’s goals. Her own success had not been enough. She had craved more. More money. More status. More power.
He met Paul’s gaze. “I wish you both every happiness.”
The tension in Victoria’s shoulders eased a little.
She’d obviously been worried he might create a scene. He wanted to reassure her, tell her that Dana truly meant nothing to him.
He smiled at her instead, a slow, sensual smile, and watched as awareness flared in her eyes. Heat spread through him. He suppressed a silent groan. What had he started?
“Does Victoria know you don’t intend to have children?” Dana’s comment was as unwelcome as a bucket of cold water.
But Victoria only arched a well-shaped brow. “I don’t think it’s true that Connor never wanted children. Otherwise, why did he choose to become a sperm donor?”
Connor tried very hard not to laugh. It made him sound like he’d done it for a living. Victoria was outrageous.
Dana’s mouth had fallen open. Even Paul looked startled.
“Connor donated sperm?”
“You didn’t know?” Victoria did great work of looking amazed. “Connor and I donated so that friends of ours could have the child of their dreams, didn’t we, Connor darling?” She drawled darling in a wicked imitation of Dana’s use of the endearment, and Connor bit down on the fierce urge to laugh.
“That was very generous—of both of you.”
“Suzy was my best friend. That’s what you do for friends, help make their dreams come true.” She gave an angelic smile as she encountered Connor’s arrested gaze. He wondered if only he knew that she was actually chastising Paul.
“Do you often see the child?” Paul looked sheepish.
“His parents were killed and—”
“—we decided to adopt him, didn’t we, Victoria?” He knew it was wrong to railroad her into something they hadn’t even discussed. But the last thing in the world he wanted was a divorce. He’d be foolish to let Victoria slip away.
“Er … yes.” Her eyes lit up with joy.
“So you only got married because of the child?” Dana had been silent, obviously thinking it through. Now her features relaxed in relief.
“Isn’t that why many couples get married?” Connor gave the other couple a narrow stare. Paul glanced away first. “But at least I wasn’t trapped into a marriage I didn’t want.” In spite of the fury that glittered in Dana’s eyes, Connor didn’t feel the satisfaction he’d expected as he made the comment. He had no need to pay either of them back further for what they’d done to him—they’d landed in a hell of their own making. With its huge mortgage that house would be a noose around their necks, and no doubt Paul was still struggling to service the interest on the loan he’d taken to pay Connor out for his share of Harper-North.
“Marrying Victoria is the best decision I’ve ever made,” he continued softly, reaching over to stroke Victoria’s hand.
Dana rose to her feet with an angry rustle of taffeta. “We should be on our way.”
Paul’s expression was far from happy. “Nice meeting you,”
he said to Victoria, and she smiled back at him as Paul sidled out of the booth.
Connor couldn’t help thinking that even Paul knew who had gotten the better deal. And it wasn’t Paul.