For the Sake of their Baby

He put his hand over hers. “I’m not an idiot. Come on, fess up, what’s wrong?”

She cast him a wary glance and bit her top lip. “I just keep thinking about how you must have hated me.”

There was nothing in the world she could have said that would have astonished him more. “What are you talking about?”

Brushing wayward strands of pale hair from her forehead, she said, “You thought I killed Uncle Devon and then sat by while you took the blame for it.”

“No, no, honey. I thought you understood that I understood—”

“You thought I was more worried about myself than I was about you. It makes me feel terrible that you could have thought that of me.”

He shook his head, unsure what to say. Why hadn’t it occurred to him that his delicate wife would no more stand aside and let him take the blame for something she did than fly to the moon?

“I’m sorry.”

Laying her fork aside, gaze averted, she added, “You didn’t turn to me when it mattered most. You pushed me and our marriage aside and went it alone. I…I feel as though I can’t trust you anymore. I don’t want you behind bars for something you didn’t do, for trying to protect me, but beyond that I…I don’t know. About us, I mean. About our future. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she averted her gaze.

She meant it.

Chapter Three

Liz stared at the computer screen and tried to figure out how she was supposed to use it to help find a killer. Overhead, she could hear Alex’s footsteps as he moved around the attic looking in boxes. Sinbad must be up there with him, she thought, because every once in a while, she could hear him throw in his two cents via a throaty meow.

Silly as it might seem to non–cat lovers, Sinbad had been her lifeline while Alex was gone. He was someone to come home to, someone who needed her and never complained if she moped about all day in a robe. He ate pretty much anything she fed him, liked to sit for long periods in her lap—back when she had one—and punctuated her remarks with snappy sounds so it seemed he was really listening.

She moved from randomly surfing the Internet to checking her e-mail. She had one message and it was from her friend and co-worker, Ron Boxer. He’d sent it early that morning and a business question was followed by a personal one—did she want to meet him downtown for lunch? Hands poised over the keyboard to explain why she couldn’t, she paused.

Why couldn’t she? Getting away from everything suddenly sounded like a fantastic idea. She typed a positive response and suggested Ron invite his sister, Emily, to join them. Talking to friends would be good therapy.

An hour later she was still at the computer, finishing the outline for a marketing blitz for the mall. Hiller Properties was a vast and complicated conglomerate, woven together by her uncle and his lawyers. Since her uncle’s death, his properties had been tied up, but she was still the one in charge and would be even more invested and involved once the dust settled.

However, after the upcoming office Christmas party, which she felt duty-bound to host, she was off on maternity leave for an indefinite time. Lately, she’d felt herself entertaining ideas of bailing out. To counteract these treasonous thoughts, she’d been working harder than ever.

Of course, there was always the possibility that once the sheriff started digging, someone else would come forward with the news that they’d seen her visiting her uncle late that night. Maybe someone else had seen her car or maybe the maid heard her voice and never mentioned it because what was the point, Alex was guilty? Maybe, despite Alex’s best intentions, she’d still wind up in jail!

“Find anything?”

She whirled around in her office chair as Sinbad bounded across the room and landed on the desktop. Papers and pencils went flying as the big cat settled on top of a stack of books and immediately began washing his face with a silky brown paw.

Alex stood in the doorway. He’d put on gray sweats; she almost expected to hear him say he was on the way to the gym. In the background, she heard the tumbling growl of the drier.

“You startled me!”

“Find anything interesting on the computer?”

“I’m not sure where to look. I can’t find the Murderers Anonymous site.”

Smiling, he said, “I have a few ideas we’ll talk about later. Meanwhile, you made a nursery out of my old den.”

It was a three bedroom house and she’d chosen the bedroom across the hall for the nursery because of the light. “Yes.”

Looking guarded, he said, “If you really won’t let me share our bed, then I’d like to throw the sleeping bag in that room.”

She gestured at the wall. “But the futon—”

“I don’t want to sleep in here. I’ll take the futon mattress across the hall and move the crib.”

“But this is all set up and ready to go,” she protested. She didn’t want him changing things. She’d created a nest across the hall and she wanted it to stay the way she’d made it. Why she felt so strongly about it was unclear to her. “It doesn’t make sense to drag things around,” she mumbled.

“I can’t sleep in this room,” he said, advancing. He stopped when he was right in front of her, forcing her to look up at him.

“Why?”

He seemed to consider her question as though trying to decide how honest to be. With his free hand, he fondled her hair, one of his fingers drifting down her cheek, across her chin. Every place he touched tingled with awareness. His voice very soft, he said, “Because I can hear you in our old bedroom. I can hear you move. I swear I can hear you breathe. I can picture you in bed and it drives me wild.”

It was more of an answer than she had expected, but that shouldn’t have surprised her. Alex was not only an arousing man to look at with his smoldering blue eyes, strong athletic body and dark good looks, he also exuded sexual energy, always had, and as long as she’d known him, that focus had been directed at her.

She saw desire on his face now, she felt it emanating from his body, and pregnant or not, it made her ache for his touch, reawakening parts of her that had been dormant for months.

“Whatever you want,” she said.

“That way you can work when you want to.”

“Good thinking.”

“Also, until we have an idea of who really killed your uncle, we need to be cautious. The murderer might very well be someone we know.”

Liz felt a tremor move through her body. “I can’t believe it’s anyone we know,” she insisted.

He ran a hand through his hair. “We’ll go out to lunch and get a head start on a plan but first I want to stop by the firehouse and return Dave’s brother’s clothes plus check out the mood there.”

“It sounds like a good idea, but I can’t go with you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes for an instant. “Why not?”

“I already have lunch plans,” she said, uncertain why she felt so awkward. She straightened the papers the cat had disturbed. “I made them a long time ago,” she lied and mentally slapped herself for doing so. “Anyway—”

“Plans with whom?” Alex asked, backing away a little.

“Business plans,” she mumbled.

“Can’t you change them?”

“No.”