as she’d wished he’d said those words to her, he never had. He’d given her his body. But she could only guess that he’d given her his heart.
There was always the chance she’d guessed wrong.
And even if she hadn’t—even if he had come to feel something for her—it was nothing compared to what he would feel for Carin once he knew she was the mother of his child.
“He might hate her,” she told herself. He might be so angry that she kept Lacey from him for all these years that he’d want nothing to do with her. And for a split second she felt a stab of hope.
But then reality settled in—and reality told her that no matter how Dominic felt about Carin, they would have so many issues to settle that Sierra would only be in the way.
She drew a deep breath and started back toward the house. And on the way she tried to find the courage to do what she had to do.
He was still on the phone when she got there, but the minute he saw her coming up the steps he said something to whoever he was talking to and put the phone down, then got up and came to meet her, an eager smile—a lover’s smile—on his face.
And Sierra took a deep breath and, eyes brimming, she said the words she’d rehearsed for the last mile.
“I think we should get a divorce.”
He’d been dying for her to get back. He’d been sick to death of all this Sorensen stuff, he’d done his best to sort through it, all the while keeping an eye on the path from the beach where he’d catch his first glimpse of Sierra.
And the minute he saw her coming, he said, “I’ll call you when I’m back in New York,” and hung up on the head of Sorensen to go and take his wife in his arms, to kiss her and love her.
And she said she wanted a divorce.
Dominic stared at her, disbelieving, her words cutting like a knife in his heart. He, who had thought he was immune to such pain, who had taken care never to fall in love, knew he was wrong.
He loved Sierra more than he’d ever loved anyone. The pain he’d felt when Carin had jilted him was nothing compared to this. That had been embarrassment, injured pride, the humiliation of masculine ego.
This cut him clear to his soul.
“Why?” His voice was hoarse, desperate, frantic. He clutched her so hard that his fingers might be leaving bruises on her arms. He tried to loosen his grip, tried not to hurt her.
God knew she was hurting him!
“Because,” Sierra said, her voice choked, as if she’d been crying. “Because there are things you don’t know.”
“What things?” He was baffled, shaking his head. “What are you talking about? Why are you crying?”
She wiped a hand across her eyes hastily. “I’m not crying! The sun was in my eyes!”
“What things?” he persisted.
“Things you haven’t settled. Things that will make a difference.” She struggled out of his grasp and moved quickly away, not looking at him.
He stared at her. “You always used to make sense.”
She gave a quick desperate shake of her head. “Go into the village. There’s a little house on Harbor Street. A shop where they sell paintings. It’s blue with white shutters.”
“Do you have sunstroke?” He tried to feel her forehead, but she pushed him away.
“Damn it, no! I don’t have anything! Just go!” When he didn’t move, she glared at him. “Do it, damn you! Go!”
Stubbornly he shook his head. “You come, too.”
“No! I can’t! I’ve got to—” She broke off and started into the house.
And he knew exactly what she was intending to do, and took three strides across the deck and grabbed her arm. “I’ll go,” he said fiercely. “But you’ll stay. You have to promise me. You can’t leave. Don’t you dare leave until I get back!”
She glowered at him, but he wouldn’t let her go until she promised.
“I’ll be here,” she said finally. “Just go.” Her throat sounded tight, her tone agonized.
He went.
But not without a long and desperate look back.
She waited.
It was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
Harder than standing up to Terry Graff at the pool when she was seven. Harder than moving to New York when she was twenty. Harder than staying out of Dominic’s arms when she’d so desperately wanted to be in them those weeks after she had learned he didn’t want out of their marriage what