Born Innocent (13 page)

She let her hand stray to her belly and she gently rubbed, pretending the baby could know her touch already, could sense the love she wanted it to feel. Her stomach, she noticed then, was as flat as it had ever been. She marveled about the changes that would come.

So far, the changes in her body were minimal: a certain sensitivity to her breasts, and a kind of knowing, blooming feeling that had made her sure in her deepest heart that she was pregnant long before she forced herself to take the test. At six weeks, she was experiencing no morning sickness, but maybe that was still to come. And even if she escaped the nausea and other unpleasant symptoms that plagued some women, soon enough her stomach would grow round, her breasts full. There would be no denying her condition.

And she’d have to tell Joe....

At that thought, all the warm, relaxing feelings faded away. She turned, fitfully, and tried to get comfortable on her other side.

Once more, she curled up in a ball and fiercely imagined her unborn child. But it didn’t work. She felt too guilty
about Joe, about this baby that she knew he’d feel responsible for, a baby he’d had no say in creating.

Joe himself was illegitimate. His parents had never married—either each other, or anyone else. Joe knew what it was to be called a bastard and have it be literally true. It was very possible that he was going to consider what Claire had done—foolishly letting herself get pregnant—as the worst kind of betrayal of his trust.

More than once over the years, he’d told her that he would never have children. He thought he’d make a lousy father, and he wasn’t sure bringing a baby into a world such as this one was a good idea, anyway.

Claire turned over again. Suddenly it was impossible to find a comfortable place in her bed. And then, just as she was punching her pillow to make it fluffier, the outside bell rang. Groaning, she sat up. She shoved her feet into her slippers and pulled on her light robe and went to answer it.

She saw that it was Joe soon as she reached the lobby. He was clearly visible through the glass top of the door, gazing off toward the pool, waiting patiently for her to come and let him in.

But she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want to talk to anyone tonight. No one she cared about, anyway. Strangers looking for a room, she could handle. But no one who mattered to her—and certainly not Joe.

She wanted to be alone to lick her wounds and—yes, all right, it was true—feel sorry for herself. And she would go mad right now if she had to look into eyes she loved and find pity and concern looking back at her.

Knowing she was being foolish, she ducked behind the desk and backed up until she was safely in her own rooms once more.

The bell rang again just as she reached the dim sanctuary of her bedroom. She climbed into bed and put her pillow over her head. Still, she heard the third ring. She ignored it.

After that, everything was quiet.

Until the small scraping sounds that told her the screen in the open window near her bed was being efficiently removed.

Claire sat up and gathered the sheet close, as if it might protect her. She watched as the shadowed figure climbed smoothly over the sill.

“
What do you think you’re doing?”

“
Whatever it takes,” he muttered wryly, “to make sure you’re all right.” He swung himself fully into her bedroom and stood tall.

“
I’m fine. I want to be alone,” she said.

“
You’ve been alone long enough.”

She stared at him, wanting to cry and laugh at the same time—but unable to do either. The irony of this situation was not lost on her. Six weeks ago,
he’d
been the one not answering his door, and
she’d
had to crawl in a window to get through to him.

“
Go away,” she snapped. Then, feeling hopeless and torn in two—wanting him to go, yet longing for him to stay—she found she couldn’t look at him. She bowed her head and stared at her hands instead.

He took the two steps to the bed. “It’s bad, huh?”

She didn’t look up. “Just go. Please.”

He said nothing. She felt the bed give as he sat on the edge.

Then he reached out, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his lean body. She went, resisting a little, but not enough to make him release her.

He cradled her against his chest and stroked her hair. She moved fitfully against him for a moment, and then she breathed deeply, finding that it felt good to have him hold her. Her body, of its own accord, began to relax. She sighed and allowed herself to listen to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.

“
Cry,” he suggested softly. “Let yourself go. You’ll feel better if you do.”

“
I can’t, not now,” she told him. “Right now, I just couldn’t let down my guard that much.” She took in a wobbly breath. “It’s all so...
wrong,
Joe. I just can’t believe that this could happen. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right....”

He made a low sound in his throat, one of agreement. They sat there, in the warmth of the summer night, their arms wrapped around each other, saying nothing for a while.

The feel of him against her was better than words. The way he held her said he knew her numbness. The numbness that covered anger that, deeper down, covered fear at the way her own world had betrayed her.

She’d told him on that night six weeks ago that she was
not
innocent. But maybe he’d been right. She
had
been innocent. She’d been trusting, in the way that only a person to whom the world has always been fair can be trusting. She’d lived thirty years secure in her sheltered belief that

good always won and truth set a person free....

And now, with a baby growing inside her, she was beginning to wonder if any of what she had so naively assumed was true. Lately the world seemed a cold and shadowed place. And it was into this place that her baby, within mere months, would be born.

Still, with Joe’s arms around her, she felt a little stronger, a little more able to cope.

Joe stroked her hair gently. “Feel better?”

“
Yes, Joe, I do.”

“
Good.” He took her face in his hands. “Now listen. I’ve just come from talking to your mother.”

For the first time in hours, Claire allowed herself a genuine smile. “You and my mother are getting to be real buddies lately.”

“
We both want the same thing,” he told her. “For you to through this without it breaking you.”

She stiffened a little, thinking of the baby. For the baby’s sake if nothing else, she couldn’t afford to be broken. “It won’t break me.” Her voice was firm and clear.

“
Good.” He dropped his hands away and hitched a leg up onto the bed.

She bravely went on smiling, letting herself enjoy the humor in the idea of Joe Tally and Ella Snow putting their heads together over the problem of her own mental health. “And what brilliant plan have you and my mother cooked up now?”

“
Well, it wasn’t really your mother’s idea. In fact, she’s not at all thrilled about it.” He looked unsure.

“
What is it?” she demanded. “Joe?”

“
Hell.” He looked away.

“
Joe?” She touched the side of his face to make him turn back to her again.

His skin felt rough, with a day’s worth of beard. In her midsection, without warning, that familiar blooming sensation began.

Even now, she thought, with all that’s happened in this miserable day, it’s so easy to want him. So easy to remember that one glorious night...

He looked into her eyes once more and she saw that the touch had affected him, too. There was heat in his gaze. He wanted her, too.

In less than an instant, everything had changed. Their easy companionship had become something else. She was painfully aware of what she’d hardly considered before; they were sitting in her darkened bedroom, on her bed, in the middle of the night.

“
Damn it, Claire.” His voice was gruff. “Don’t even think it. It’s not a good idea.”

She didn’t want to hear him tell her what they shouldn’t do. “Joe...” She touched his face again, tracing a slow trail along his strong jaw to his neck, and lower down, until she clasped his shoulder, felt the strength in it, through the fabric of his shirt.

“
No,” he said.

“
Please...” She was shameless. She didn’t care. Right then, there might never have been an agreement. It didn’t exist. There was only herself and Joe and the hunger to be close to him, to take him inside her, and to move with him to a place beyond guilt or innocence, where only sensation reigned.

He clasped the hand that clutched his shoulder and his eyes burned into hers. “It would be a mistake.”

“
No.” She shook her head for emphasis. “It would only be. ..what we both want. It would hurt no one. And it would give me... comfort, when I need it the most. Just like what I gave you six weeks ago. A fair exchange.”

For a long moment they looked at each other. And then the miracle happened.

With a low groan, he reached out and pulled her against him. His hard arms encircled her and his mouth closed over her own.

The kiss went on forever, hot and carnal and weighted with the promise of what might come next. Claire reveled in the taste of him, after these long weeks of hunger and longing. She moaned and her lips parted. His tongue played with hers as she pressed herself against him. She let her hands roam freely over his broad back and shoulders, relearning every hard contour. Her senses swam; she was awash in a sweet and slightly frantic delight.

But then, out of nowhere, he pulled back.

She cried softly, “No!”

But he held her at arm’s distance once more. “Claire.” His tone was rough and husky. “This is not what I came here for.”

She opened her heavy eyes and looked at him, so he would know this was a conscious choice for her. “It doesn’t matter. It’s what I want.”

“
You’re sure?”

“
Beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

“
You’ll regret it. After all this is... worked out.”

“
Never. Not for a moment. As long as I live.”

He was gripping her shoulders tightly, holding her carefully away. He stared at her so hard she felt as if his eyes seared twin holes in her own.

Then he said, “All right.”

Her body, which had been straining for his, relaxed. She allowed herself a faint smile. “Gee, Joe. You don’t have to sound so grim about it.”

Now it was his turn to smile. “I’m not. Not really. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” He shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. “And I don’t seem to be able to hide it very well lately.”

Claire’s heart was pounding faster. It was a lovely thing to hear. Joe Tally desired her... had
always
desired her.

He went on before she could let her thoughts carry her away. “But not tonight.”

She felt the disappointment a child feels when she’s told she won’t be going to the ice-cream shop after all. And then she smiled at herself. “Why not?” The question was good-natured.

“
Hell. First off, I don’t have anything for contraception. Do you have anything here?”

She looked at him and had to hold back a slightly hysterical laugh. He had no idea that the cow was already out of the barn on that score.

Her conscience spoke up clearly.
Tell him. Tell him now.

But she just couldn’t get her mouth around the words. Not yet. She couldn’t see how he would be anything but angry when he found out. At the very least, he would withdraw from her, something for which she wouldn’t blame him in the least.

Today had been rough enough. Its only bright spots were her thoughts about the baby and these past few minutes here in the dark with Joe. If he turned away from her now, it would hurt worse than it ever had before.

She
would
tell him. But not yet. Not for a little while longer...

“
Claire?”

She realized he was waiting for her to answer his question about contraception. She shook her head. “No. I don’t have anything here.”

“
Right.” He seemed a little embarrassed. She loved him more than ever. “And besides that,” he went on, “I’d just rather you... thought about this a little, considered how it would affect you, if you and I...”

“
Oh, Joe.” She touched him again, on the side of his face. She would never get enough of touching him. “Okay. Let’s let it be for tonight. We’ll both think about it. Fair enough?”

“
Yeah. Fair enough.”

There was a small silence. From outside somewhere, a mourning dove called. Claire shook herself and recalled what he’d been leading up to before desire carried them away.