When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,42

race every time he looked her way, spoke her name, touched her. Yes, she could tell him, but she wouldn’t.

“It was a whirlwind courtship. We married within three months, and we were happy, for the first year. Or so I thought. Then she wanted out. She didn’t want to be tied down anymore.

“She’d put her modeling career on hold. I hadn’t asked her to, but she blamed me. I guess I cramped her style. She said marriage kept her from getting the good jobs. I couldn’t reason with her. Then she found out she was pregnant. I was ecstatic, but she was devastated. She wanted an abortion. I begged her to reconsider. I told her as soon as the baby came she could go back to modeling, and I’d look after the baby, get a nanny.” He stared out the window.

“I thought it would change her, but it made things worse. She blamed me for forcing her to have a baby, and resented the pregnancy for what it did to her figure. She became bitter and vengeful. She didn’t want the child, but didn’t want me to have her either.

“She left one night. Wouldn’t see me, or speak to me. Later, she wrote and told me she’d lost the baby, our marriage was over, and she wanted a divorce. I signed the papers. I never heard from her again.”

He paused as if it was too painful to go on. “I didn’t even know I had a child. It was only by accident I found out Rachel had been killed in a car accident. If I hadn’t run into her friend, Janet, I would never have known about Gracie.”

His voice held so much bitterness, tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to reach out and hold him, but fear of his reaction held her back.

“I can’t forgive her for giving Gracie up for adoption. I missed out on so much.” His palm hitting the desk sounded like a crack of thunder. “My own flesh and blood put in foster care like a homeless orphan.” He shuddered. “What if I’d never known about her? What if I’d never found her?” He closed his eyes, the muscles on his face as taunt as a bowstring.

Would he ever get over his anger? Would he ever be able to trust again?

When he did turn back to look at her, anger smoldered in his eyes. “Her leaving and not telling me about Gracie, it was her way to punish me.”

“I’m so sorry, Pearce.”

A familiar ache rose in her chest and she wanted to reach out and touch him, make some sort of contact to ease the pain. She wanted to tell him that all women weren’t like his wife, that some women would give their eyeteeth to have his child. She wanted to tell him how desperately she wanted to be that woman.

“But now,” he said, his voice becoming less bitter, more determined, “Gracie and I are together again, and I won’t let anything come between us.”

Molly’s heart plummeted. Yes, you and Gracie are together, but is there room for me?

Molly’s bare feet sank into the thick carpet. Her heart felt as if it were sinking along with her feet. She’d left the door open a crack so she could slip in and give Pearce his antibiotic without waking him. After their earlier conversation, the rest of the day consisted of monosyllabic communication.

Molly had tended to his needs. And she’d brought Gracie in for meals, and a short visit before she put her to bed. Despite Gracie and Trooper’s rambunctious play, the atmosphere between Pearce and her remained tense. She was glad Gracie kept her busy. It kept her mind off all the things she didn’t want to think about–her job at the hospital, her future, her feelings for Pearce, and her aching heart.

She crossed the room on tiptoes and flipped on the nightlight on the alcove of the sideboard. A soft glimmer of light illuminated the medical supplies. She glanced at Pearce. He snored softly. Molly smiled to herself. Would he admit that he snored? Probably not.

Molly mixed the antibiotic. Crossing to the bed, she attached the mini-bag to the intravenous line. It would take a few minutes. Should she go and get something to drink? Or she could just stand here and watch? She let her eyes roam over Pearce’s sleeping form.

It had been a while since he’d had a cut and his hair was ruffled and unruly. Dark tendrils coiled at