The Millionaire Claims His Wife(12)

"Chase," Annie said sharply.

"-their hats on their heads, when they were still alive and kicking."  Chase squatted down in front of Dawn. "You and Nick love each other.  That's the reason you got married. Right?"

"Right," Dawn said, in a small voice. "But, Daddy-"

"No, you listen to me, for a change. I gave you your turn, now you give  me mine." Chase took a deep breath. "You loved each other. You got  married. You took some very important vows, among them the promise to  stay together through the bad times as well as the good. Think about  that promise, Dawn." He took her hands in his and looked into her teary  eyes. "It means, you've always got to give it a second chance. It means,  love doesn't die, it only gets lost sometimes, and if you loved each  other once, there's always damn good reason to think you can find it  again."

Dawn nodded, the tears streaming down her face.

"Exactly," she said. "That's why, when I saw you and Mom together I  thought, isn't it wonderful? They've decided to give themselves another  chance."

"Dawn," Nick said, "please, darling. You're upset."

"I am not," Dawn said in a shaky whisper.

"Let's get out of here. Let's give us a chance."

"What for? So we can break our hearts someplace down the road?" A sob  caught in her throat. "You're asking me to take a terrible gamble, Nick,  and to do that would take a miracle."

"Yes!" The word seemed to leap, unbidden, from Chase's throat. Every head in the room snapped in his direction.

"Yes?" Annie said. "Yes, what?"

Chase stared at his former wife's pale face. It was a terrific question.  What had he said yes to? Despite all his arguments, he knew his  daughter was right. A frighteningly high percentage of marriages failed.  And the breakup, when you'd loved someone as deeply as he'd once loved  Annie, was the worst pain imaginable.

But how could he let his daughter and her groom fail before they'd even  tried? Nick had the right idea. He and Dawn had to get away from here.  They had to be alone and unpressured. They had to go on their honeymoon,  and Chase could think of only one way to make that happen.

His daughter wanted a miracle? Okay. He'd give her one.                       
       
           



       

"Yes, you were right, about your mother and me."

"No," Annie said. "Chase, don't!"

"We didn't want to say anything until we were certain, because it isn't  certain yet, you understand, it's far from certain, in fact, it's very,  very uncertain and altogether iffy-"

"Chase!" Annie cried, her voice high and panicked, but hell, he'd gone too far to stop now.

So he ignored Annie, gave Dawn his most ingratiating smile and shot a  quick prayer in the direction of the ceiling, just in case anybody who  kept track of white lies was listening.

"No promises," he said, "and absolutely no guarantees because, frankly, I  don't think the odds are too good but yeah, your mother and I have  decided to at least talk about giving things between us a second  chance."





CHAPTER FIVE

CHASE WATCHED as Annie paced the length of the living room.

It was almost hypnotic. She went back and forth, back and forth, pausing  before him each time just long enough to give him a look that had gone  from anger to disbelief to a glare that would have brought joy to the  heart of the Medusa.

Aside from a quick burst of fury after Dawn and Nick had left, she had  yet to say anything to him, but that was hardly reassuring. Another  explosion was just a matter of time. Her white face, thinned mouth and  determined pacing told him so. And he could hardly blame her.

What in heaven's name had impelled him to do such a stupid thing? To  even suggest there was a possibility of reconciliation had been crazy.  It was wrong. Hell, it was unfair. Dawn, falsely convinced she'd had her  miracle, had gone off with hope in her heart...

But at least she'd gone. That was what he'd wanted, after all, to give  his daughter time to be alone with her husband, time to realize that the  future of her marriage was not linked to the failure of his and  Annie's.

Just because one generation screwed things up didn't mean the next one would, too.

Chase felt the weight lifting from his shoulders. What he'd done had  been impetuous, perhaps even outrageous. But if it gave Dawn time to  find her own way through the minefield of life and marriage, it was  worth it. Who had he hurt, really? When the kids got back from their  honeymoon-happy, he was certain, and concentrating on their future  instead of his and Annie's-he'd explain that he'd misled them, just a  little bit.

"And just how do you think she's going to feel, when you tell her you lied?"

Chase looked up. Annie had come to a stop in front of him. Her  sweatshirt inexplicably but appropriately featured a picture of Sesame  Street's Oscar the Grouch. Her face was white, her eyes shiny and she  was so angry she was trembling.

Angry-and incredibly beautiful.

A lifetime ago, she used to tremble that way when she lay in his arms.  When he touched her. When he stroked her breasts, and her belly. When he  moved between her silken thighs...

"Do you hear me, Chase Cooper? How do you think our daughter will feel, when she finds out her miracle is a bucket of hogwash?"

Chase frowned. "It isn't as bad as that."

"You're right. It's worse."

"Look, I was just trying to help her."

"Hah!"

"Okay, okay. Maybe I made a mistake, but-"

"Maybe?" Her voice shot up the scale, her eyebrows to her hairline. "Maybe you made a mistake?"

"The words just came out. I didn't mean-"

"Can't you even admit you were wrong?"

"I already did. I said maybe I made a mistake."

Annie snorted. "You still don't see it, do you! A 'mistake' is when a person forgets an appointment. Or dials a wrong number."

"Or says something, in the heat of the moment, that he thinks might-"

"You lied, Chase. There's a big difference. But I'm not surprised."

Chase rose to his feet. "And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Annie said coldly, and turned away.

"Dammit!" He grabbed her shoulder and swung her around to face him. "If  there's one thing I never could stand, it was that word. 'Nothing,' you  always say, but even an idiot can tell you really mean 'something."

Annie smiled sweetly. "I'm happy to hear it."

Dark color swept into his face. He clutched her tighter and leaned toward her.

"You're pushing your luck, babe."

"Why?" Her chin lifted. "What are you going to do, huh? Slug me?"

Annie saw Chase's eyes narrow. What had made her say such a thing? They  had quarreled, yes. Fought furiously with words. By the time they'd  agreed to divorce, they'd hurled every possible bit of invective at each  other.                       
       
           



       

But he'd never hit her. He'd never raised his hand to her. She'd never been afraid of him physically and she wasn't now.

It was just that she was so angry. So enraged. He was, too. And just a  little while ago, when he'd been mad and she'd been mad, he'd ended up  hauling her into his arms and kissing her until her toes had tingled.

For Pete's sake, woman, are you insane? Are you trying to tick him off so he'll kiss you again?

She stiffened, then twisted out of his grasp.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," she said. She walked to the sofa and sat down. "I just wish I knew what to do next."

"Why should we have to 'do' anything?" Chase said, sitting down in the chair.

"Dawn's going to have such expectations..."

Chase sighed and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He put his head in his hands.

"year."

"How could you? How could you tell her that?"

"I don't know." He straightened up and passed his hand over his face.  "Exhaustion, maybe. I haven't slept in-what year is this, anyway?"

"To tell her such nonsense-"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, "okay, you made your point" He frowned and  shifted his backside on the cushion of the contraption Annie called a  chair, where he'd spent the last hour being tortured. "What's this damn  chair stuffed with, anyway? Steel filings?"

"Horsehair, which should be just right, considering that you are,  without question, the biggest horse's patootie I ever did know!"

Chase gave a bark of incredulous laughter. "Patootie? Goodness gracious,  land's sakes alive, Miss Annie, what out and out vulgarity!"

"Dammit, Chase-"

"Oh my. Better watch yourself, babe. Your language is slipping."

"Don't 'babe' me. I don't like it. Just tell me what we're supposed to do now."