His hair had been cut short but would be curly if he let it grow longer. His black eyebrows had arched any time he laughed, and his neatly trimmed beard had given him a rakish look that reminded her of a pirate. His chest had been broad, covered with a dusting of black hair that had peeked out over the top button of his shirt during that one evening they’d had, until he’d finally taken it off, along with everything else.
His lips were perfect, full and sensual as he’d smiled, and so warm as he’d kissed her all over. His hands had mesmerized her as he’d stroked her flesh, his fingers long and gentle, rough at the very tips.
The night hadn’t ended with dinner, or with their evening spent at the Dancing Pony. Perhaps knowing it would end had made the flame burn brighter and stronger, at least in her memory. He’d invited her back to his hotel and made love to her with skilled abandon, bringing her to orgasm so many times she’d lost count. And when he’d held her afterward, she hadn’t felt used or disappointed. She’d felt a connection with him.
It’d been on the tip of her tongue to tell him her name so that perhaps they might somehow meet again, but by then he’d drifted off to sleep, still holding her close. She’d fallen asleep debating about telling him the next morning.
But when she woke, it was to find his note on the pillow next to her, telling her that he’d had a wonderful night and he hoped like crazy that someday his life would bring him back through Divine again. And that maybe then she’d tell him her name.
Crestfallen, she’d showered, dressed, and gone home. The memory of his winsome smile and sparkling eyes created a fresh rush of tears. She wasn’t always the best judge of character, but she knew in her heart that he would want to know about his baby.
An uncomfortable wave of shame wrenched her heart. She scoffed and whispered, “Two ships passing in the night. What an idiotic plan.”
* * * *
Presley Ann had no idea how long she’d been asleep when a noise awakened her and she opened her eyes to find three people, including her Aunt Dorothy, standing at her bedside. She gasped and sat up so quickly she jostled Whit and he began fussing.
Her aunt had a smile pasted on her lips, but the rest of her face looked as if she smelled something stinky as Presley Ann patted Whit’s back and soothed him. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Sorry,” her aunt said ingratiatingly. “I forgot to call. We came as soon as visiting hours allowed.”
Presley Ann frowned as she looked at the middle-aged couple standing beside her aunt. The tall man had salt-and-pepper hair, and he stared at Whit as if he was evaluating him. He wasn’t dressed like a doctor, though. The woman, who had dark, close-set eyes and thinning hair smiled at the baby as if he was all she could see, sending a cold chill down Presley Ann’s spine.
“Aunt Dorothy, who are these people?”
Dorothy sat down on the edge of the bed, forcing Presley Ann to move her leg or have it squashed. The expression on her aunt’s face was a familiar one as she framed her reply. Her father’s sister was a master manipulator, and Presley Ann braced herself, wondering what she was up to.
“Dear,” she started out, pinching the fabric of the blanket draped over Presley Ann’s calf before smoothing it out as though she was unconsciously smoothing the way to get what she wanted. “I know how you must long to get back into the swing of things, back into your life.” She waved her hands around her head as if in a daze. “Back into your social whirl. I’ve been trying to broach the subject but…just haven’t known how and now…here we are,” she said with a little laugh as though she was a little embarrassed as she settled her gaze on Whit.
“Here we are…where? Up until now you’ve given no indication you took any interest in my pregnancy.” Presley Ann darted another glance at the couple. “And you still haven’t answered my question. Who are these people?”
Aunt Dorothy lifted the birth certificate form from the tray table where Presley Ann had placed it earlier, and then put it back down and scooted it several inches away from her. “Dear, I’ve known you since your birth. You’re a simply lovely girl, so full of potential, but I fear this child may be the end of all that. I see hardship ahead for you. Sacrifice.”
“No doubt. But I fail to see what that has to do with you being here with two strangers.”
A conversation she’d had the previous day with her cousin, Wilhelmina, Dorothy’s daughter, came to mind. She was cut from the same cloth as her mother. She’d told Presley Ann to not expect a baby shower, since her baby was born on the “wrong side of a wedding ring” and had mentioned that she knew of a couple who were looking to adopt a baby. A cold shiver swept up her spine and she bundled her baby close to her as Whit started to root.