“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.”