To Love You More Read online

  She’d relented after George had echoed her parents’ sentiments, but being away from him had not been easy for either of them.

  The past two weeks back home had been great, except for the niggling feeling that she’d tried so hard to ignore. The tiny engagement ring he’d given her, just before she left for England, felt heavy on her finger.

  She sighed. Maybe she was just being paranoid.

  Even now, looking down at a sleeping George made her heart ache with her love for him.

  She slipped out of bed. She needed to take a shower and head out to work.

  * * *

  When she stepped out of the bathroom a half an hour later, George was no longer in bed. She dressed quickly and then headed to his study where he was probably already working.

  At the entrance to the office, she stopped on hearing her name. He was talking about her.

  “Troy, you know I love Rachel, but I’m no longer sure if I’m ready for marriage right now. I don’t want anything to distract me from my goals and she’s a definite distraction. I’ve been offered that fellowship. I want to go but I don’t know what to tell her. She’s going to be totally devastated. When she left to go to England I wanted nothing more in life than to marry her. I’m not sure if that’s what I want anymore.”

  He paused for a moment before continuing, “But I don’t know what to tell her.”

  There was silence again.

  “Yes, I know I’m a man. I’ll tell her. Maybe tonight. But I don’t agree. She’s not going to understand. Rachel may be a modern woman who wants to work, but deep inside she’s still the marrying kind.”

  Rachel turned away from the study. She couldn’t let him see her right now. The trickle of tears would let him know she’d overhead what he’d said. She’d go upstairs, wash her face and return downstairs. By then she’d be under control.

  Upstairs, she washed her face and reapplied her makeup.

  The door opened and he walked in.

  She turned to him, searching his face for the evidence of his guilt, but he smiled back at her as if nothing was wrong. She smiled in response, fighting to control her anger.

  “I have to go,” she said. “I need to be at the office early this morning.”

  “No breakfast?” he asked.

  “No, I really need to go.” She could feel the onset of another wave of tears. “I’ll call you when I get a chance.”

  “Cool. You’re coming over tonight?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’ll be here.”

  “Okay,” he replied, walking over to place a light kiss on her lips. “Make sure you get something to eat,” he said.

  “I’ll do that,” she replied. She picked up her handbag and waved goodbye.

  Sitting in her car five minutes later, Rachel struggled to fight the tears threatening to fall. I will not cry. I will not cry.

  “Marrying kind” indeed! She had always prided herself on being independent and an advocate for women’s equality.

  But what George had said was so close to the truth. She did want a husband, a good home and a family. She didn’t see why she couldn’t have all of it.

  By the time she pulled into the parking lot of the judicial building, she’d mustered a modicum of calmness.

  When she reached her office, a cup of steaming cappuccino in her hands, she’d pushed the events of the morning to the back of her mind. She needed to focus on her work. Tonight, she would worry about what she should say to George.

  * * *

  Something was definitely wrong. From the time she’d arrived at his apartment, he had sensed it. Rachel was unusually quiet. Not that she was the talkative type, but she seemed troubled by something.

  She was probably worried about her first case.

  He glanced furtively at her from the papers he was working on. He wanted to make love to her, but the guilt only made him feel worse.

  He needed to talk to her, but with her pensiveness, he did not know if the right time was tonight. Yet, he knew he could not keep putting it off.

  She lay on the sofa in his office. She appeared relaxed, but as he looked closer, he realized that there was a subtle tension in her body he hadn’t noticed before.

  He closed his papers. He needed to find out what was wrong.

  When he reached the sofa, she looked up, a ready smile on her face, but a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  He lowered himself to the sofa, wanting to touch her but knowing that it would be better not to.

  “You’re ready to tell me what’s wrong?” he finally asked.

  “As if you don’t know,” she retorted unexpectedly.

  Still confused, he shrugged his shoulders.

  “How am I expected to know what’s on your mind?”

  She laughed, a sarcastic, guttural sound. “And I’m expected to know what’s on yours?”

  He reached out a hand to touch her, to calm the beast warring inside her.

  “Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

  He pulled back sharply, her words like a slap across his face.

  “Now, this is getting a bit weird.” He had never seen her in a mood like this.

  “I heard your conversation with Troy this morning,” she responded, her tone chilling the room.

  He didn’t know what to say. He wished the floor would open beneath him. But he realized that what would take place was inevitable. He’d wanted to talk with her, break his news quietly, gently.

  “I’m sorry you had to hear it that way. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said gently.

  “I thought you loved me. Thought we would spend the rest of our lives together,” she pleaded. He could see the pain in her eyes.

  “I do love you, Rachel. I’m just not ready for marriage. I have so much I want to do before I commit myself to a lifetime with you.”

  “You could have told me. I’m willing to wait.”

  “But I won’t do that to you. I can’t do that to you. I’m going to be studying for another two years and I’m not sure what’s going to happen after that.”

  “You know what? You, Shayne and Troy are so alike. It’s always about the dream—what you want to achieve in life at the expense of everything else.”

  She rose from the sofa. The look she tossed him was one of absolute disdain. The room suddenly turned chilly.

  “Well, I think I should say goodbye now. I can see that I’m not wanted.”

  “Rachel, I don’t want you to leave here angry at me.”

  “What did you expect, George?” she retorted. “That I would be all happy and smiling? Give me credit for being human. But I promise you, in a few days I’ll be fine and you can get on with your life and your dreams. I’m strong and definitely a modern woman. I may be the ‘marrying kind’ as you said, but I assure you, I can survive without a man in my life.”

  She picked her bag up and slipped her feet into her shoes. With as much grace as she could muster, she walked out of the room without another word. The next noise he heard was the slamming of his front door.

  Hours later, he still sat there, his heart still heavy with the magnitude of what he had done.

  * * *

  Rachel bent over the sink in the bathroom. For the second morning running she was not feeling well. She’d gone to the doctor after work that evening, but she didn’t need a doctor to tell her what was wrong. She was pregnant. She had only needed the doctor to confirm it, but she knew there was a child growing insider her womb.

  George’s child.

  She shook her head slowly. How on earth had this happened? They had always been careful to use protection.

  In the past two months she’d seen him on occasion, but last week he had headed off to Australia for the fell
owship. He’d tried to talk to her, but she had refused. She’d thought it best that the contact between them should end.

  She had no idea what she was going to do. Letting George know was out of the question. She didn’t want him to feel obliged to return home. He’d made it clear he wanted to go, that his career and dreams were more important.

  She wished she had someone to talk to but her cadre of female friends didn’t exist. She wondered if she could talk to Shayne or Troy, but that would be like telling George directly. There was no way they would not tell him. So she was on her own.

  An abortion was out of the question. She was definitely pro-life and had always made her position clear about her belief.

  Already she loved the life growing inside her.

  She wondered if it would be a girl or boy. She smiled, resting her hand against the warmth of her stomach.

  The image of a tiny, squalling boy flashed in her mind. The baby would be a boy. She sensed it in the way only a pregnant mother could.

  Her son would be all right. She would be all right. She was convinced of that.

  She walked out of her room and down the corridor to her mother’s room. She’d start by letting her mother know.

  * * *

  Later that week she stood at the window to her office, looking down at the empty courtyard. Though she’d stayed later than usual, she seemed unable to focus on the case she’d been working on.

  There was a knock on her door.

  Her boss, Edward St. Clair, stepped into the office.

  Rachel turned from the window. She tried to look brave, but the weight of her pregnancy gave rise to another bout of tears. She was embarrassed. She was not one for crying, but she could not stop the constant flow.

  “What’s wrong, Rachel?” he asked anxiously. “I haven’t even given you the bad news and you’re crying already.”

  When she didn’t respond, his expression became one of concern.

  “What’s wrong, Rachel?”

  “I’m pregnant,” she responded this time. There was no need to ramble all over the place.

  “And you’re crying? I would have thought you’d be happy.”

  “I am, but…” she mumbled.

  “So there’s a but?”

  “Yes.”

  “George?” he asked.

  “Yes, George.”

  “He’s not happy?” he queried.

  “He doesn’t know. We broke up before he left.”

  “You did? I was expecting wedding bells sometime in the not so distant future.”

  “No, his future and his career are more important,” she replied sarcastically.

  She stopped. She’d told him a bit too much. It was really none of his business. He was her boss, nothing more.

  “So you are planning on being a single mother?” he asked.

  His words startled her. While she had thought about keeping the baby, she’d not thought about it in that light.

  Single mother?

  How was she going to raise a child alone?

  “I’m sure that in a few months George will be getting phone calls from all his friends.”

  Another complication she had not thought about. George would eventually know. It was inevitable.

  Edward smiled.

  “I have the perfect solution to your problem,” he said.

  She raised her brow nonchalantly.

  “I was about to tell you my bad news, but under the circumstances, it could be good news. You just have to agree to my proposal.”

  “Proposal?” she asked warily.

  “I was coming to let you know I’ve been offered a job in Anguilla. I applied a few months ago but, quite frankly, didn’t expect to be offered the position.”

  “You’re leaving?” She could not contain her disappointment.

  “Marry me,” he said.

  At the expression of shock she knew was registered on her face, he raised his hand.

  “I’m quite aware that I’m way older than you are. This is only a marriage of convenience. I need a wife. It will give respectability to my position. You need a father for your child. You may have to put your career on hold for a few years. Of course, I’ll make no sexual demands on you.”

  There was silence.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she finally said. His words had slowly started to sink in.

  “Don’t say anything now. Go home and think about it and tomorrow you can let me know your decision,” he said.

  She watched as he walked out of her office.

  Maybe this was what she needed. Look what passion had done—left her young and pregnant.

  She closed her eyes. It was times like these when she wished she had someone to talk to. She’d made no lasting friends at school. For years, she’d been a loner. She’d been focused on her studies…and on George.

  There was one girl at school she’d been sort of friends with, but after high school, the girl had disappeared and they’d lost contact.

  The reality was that if she left the island, she’d lose nothing, no one would miss her. Not even Shayne or Troy. Because of her years studying overseas she’d never really gotten close to them, except for the few occasions they’d been out as a group, and even then she and George had been focused on each other.

  Later that night, she picked the phone up and called her boss. She’d been about to put the phone down when he answered. That had sealed her fate.

  “I’ll go with you to Anguilla. I’ll marry you, but under one condition.”

  “What’s that?” he replied.

  “That you promise to treat my child as your own—that you love him as your own. He is never to know that you’re not his real dad.”

  “I can agree to that. My late wife and I never had any kids. So it’ll be good to have someone to spoil.”

  “I still think you’re being crazy, but your proposal is definitely a good solution to my situation. I’m not sure how my mom is going to deal with my leaving, but she will respect my decision. Would it be all right for her to come and visit us in Anguilla?”

  “Definitely, your mother will always be welcome to visit. I have to go. I have an engagement to attend. We’ll talk tomorrow. We have lots of planning and arranging to do.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I should be saying thank you.”

  With that he put the phone down.

  Rachel sat there, her thoughts still troubled by what she was about to do.

  * * *

  George flung the glass against the wall. He still couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

  The bitch!

  He could believe that she’d left the island. He couldn’t believe that she had married Judge Edward St. Clair.

  He picked up another glass, filled it with his favorite brandy and swallowed it down. A part of him felt like screaming and cussing, but another part of him just wanted to lie on the bed and cry. But he wouldn’t! He wouldn’t cry for her. She’d betrayed him in the cruelest way. Just three months after their breakup she was getting married and, to add insult to injury, to a man almost twice her age.

  He set the glass down, glad that his room was a fair distance from his mother’s room. He hoped she had not heard his rage.

  He stripped his clothes off, stood naked and looked into the mirror. His old concern about his height threatened to surface, but what he saw in the mirror lay his crazy thoughts to bed.

  He knew he looked good. His physique was superior and the girls loved his manhood. He tried to look at it critically, but what he saw pleased him. Maybe he was a bit too obsessed with his manhood, but he wasn’t a bad person. He had changed. He’d made adjustments to his social life. Abstinence was
his new motto, but what had it done for him?

  She’d gone and married someone else.

  But who did he have to blame but himself? He was the one to break their relationship off. He’d been the one to hurt her. She’d been the one to beg him not to end what they had.

  So the only person he could blame was himself. He’d put himself in the situation.

  He had not even heard about the wedding.

  George had arrived back home from Australia for a holiday and he’d been greeted by the announcement in the newspaper. The judge had been offered a position in Anguilla and had gone with his new wife—Rachel.

  The phone rang, startling him with its harsh volume. He walked over and glanced at the caller display. It was Troy. He’d expected it.

  He picked the phone up and found himself unable to speak.

  “It’s Troy. I’m coming over.”

  He mumbled something he wasn’t even sure of and listened for the inevitable click.

  He lowered himself to the couch, the tears already trickling from his eyes. He tried to stem their flow but couldn’t. When Troy entered his room thirty minutes later, he’d regained control.

  He’d made a vow. Never again would he allow a woman to make him cry. As far as he was concerned, Rachel St. Clair no longer existed.

  Chapter 3

  Thirteen Years Later

  The woman gliding toward him piqued his interest. A tall woman, she walked with the kind of grace that few women could achieve even after long hours of practice. She had her head down, browsing the pages of a folder she carried.

  And then it struck him. There was something familiar about her.

  Rachel.

  What the hell was she doing in Barbados?

  No, he had to be wrong. He was letting his imagination run wild.

  He increased his stride, walking quickly along the corridor of the newly constructed courthouse.

  When she turned the corner, he followed her. She was heading in the same direction he was.