Hope looked away from him before he could see the disappointment in her eyes. Work and money. She, more than anyone, understood how important those two things were. As a child, it had only been Hope and her mother. And Georgia had never understood the word responsibility. What little money her mother had made at waitressing or cleaning houses, she’d spent frivolously. And the men she’d married after Hope’s father had skipped out weren’t any better.
“I’m aware of all the trouble going on at the clinic.”
He cast her a sharp glance. “But that doesn’t mean anything to you?”
Hope bit her lower lip, wondering how things between them had gotten to this point. Their marriage had always been special. As the years passed, the two of them had grown closer rather than apart. They had rarely argued over anything. She realized the miscarriage had been as traumatic for Drake as it had been for her. But she’d managed to get past it. Drake, however, couldn’t seem to let go and move forward with her. The gap it had created between them had grown to mammoth proportions. He seemed to misinterpret her feelings, along with everything she said.
“Of course it means something to me,” she replied. “I understand you’re a busy man and that you made an extra effort to come with me this morning. And I’m grateful that you did. But I—get the feeling your heart isn’t in this.”
What heart? Drake wanted to ask her. The little that had survived losing the baby had been crushed by their separation. It amazed him that she thought he ought to be able to love and laugh and live as the two of them had before she’d talked him into the notion of having a child.
Long moments continued to pass as he negotiated the car through a lane of heavy traffic. Eventually, he said, “To hear you tell it, I don’t even have a heart.”
He was baiting her. Just as he’d been baiting her last night about their sleeping arrangement, and it suddenly dawned on Hope that he was doing it on purpose. He wanted to rile her to the point where she would send him packing. But she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.
“For Stevie’s sake, I hope I’m wrong,” she murmured.
Drake didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He knew he was behaving like a jackass, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. From the moment Hope had come to his office yesterday, he hadn’t been able to think about anything but her and this month ahead of them. It might be the last chance, the last time in his life to live with her. He had to make it right or he was going to lose her forever.
Last night in bed, Drake had lain there pretending to sleep while Hope had clung to her side of the bed, desperate to keep her distance from him. He’d never undergone so much agony, knowing her body was inches from his, yet her heart was far away. Drake could only wonder how many more nights he could continue like this before he cracked and reached for her. Or was forced to leave the bed entirely.
From the corner of his eye, he could see her face was still turned toward the passenger window. This morning her hair was brushed loose. The color of the silky strands reminded him of a jar of honey lit with warm sunlight. If he were closer, he knew it would smell like lilac or lily of the valley. She only wore the fragrance of a single flower, and he’d often told her he liked her best when she was wearing nothing but the scent of a rose.
Drake cleared his throat and tried to shake the erotic vision from his thoughts. After a moment he said, “Whatever you might be thinking, Hope, I don’t want my sister’s kid to be hurt any more than he already has been. But for all we know he might have turned into a little tyrant since we last saw him. I could hardly blame the boy if he has.”
Surprised by his admission, she turned her gaze to him. “From what you’ve told me about your growing-up years, your parents weren’t any better than Denise and Phillip. Did you behave like a little tyrant?”
A dry laugh escaped from him. “No. But I wish I had. I should have dealt them as much misery as they dealt me.”
Her eyes scanned his face, and the bitterness she saw there was like a cold hand clamped around her throat. Drake had never tried to hide the resentment he’d felt for his parents. Even before she and Drake were married, Hope had realized he wasn’t close to either his mother or father. In fact, she didn’t meet the Logans at all until it was nearly time for the wedding. And then she hadn’t been impressed. Harris and Lilah had both been pompous and self-absorbed. The couple had made it easy for Hope to see that Drake had grown up feeling unloved and unwanted.
After the meeting with her in-laws, Hope had vowed to make up for Drake’s parents’ lack of affection. And throughout the years of her marriage, she’d tried to show her love in a million different ways. But it had obviously not been enough to take away his bitterness.
“You can’t forgive them, can you?”
His brows lifted ever so slightly as he glanced at her. “No. And I doubt I ever will.”
ONCE INSIDE the busy Robert Mueller Airport, the two of them located the correct airline gate and took a seat to wait for the flight from Dallas to arrive. Drake said very little and Hope didn’t push him for conversation. As each minute ticked away she was becoming increasingly nervous about meeting Stevie. What if he had become a little tyrant as Drake had suggested? She might not be able to handle him and then the whole household would be in an uproar. Drake would be only too happy to point out another reason they shouldn’t try again for a child of their own, and this whole thing would backfire in her face.
But the moment the passengers began to come through the gate and she spotted Stevie, escorted by a flight attendant, her worries were instantly forgotten.
“There he is, Drake!” Jumping to her feet, she unconsciously reached for his hand, then, as though realizing she shouldn’t be touching him, her hand fell to her side and she stepped back. “We’d better let the flight attendant know we’re here,” she added soberly.
Rising from the chair, Drake deliberately curled his arm around the back of her waist and gave her a brief smile. “We’re supposed to be a loving married couple meeting our little nephew, remember?”
Hope wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or sincere, but at this moment she didn’t care. She desperately needed the extra support his touch lent her.
It took them a few moments to weave their way through the dispersing passengers to the information desk where the flight attendant and Stevie stood waiting. After a brief exchange of necessary information, the woman smiled at Stevie, who continued to cling to her hand. “Well, it looks like everything is in order, so I’m going to put my little passenger in your care now.”
The attendant said her goodbyes to all three of them, then turned to head through the terminal gate. Seeing the lost look on Stevie’s face, Hope quickly kneeled to the boy’s level.
He was pretty much as she remembered. A bit taller, but she couldn’t see that he’d picked up any weight. He was thin and frail, and his complexion reminded her of a child who’d been convalescing from a long illness. Toffee-brown hair fell in a straight bang onto his forehead and freckles dotted his nose. Big brown woeful eyes glanced cautiously from one adult to the other.
“I’m your aunt Hope, Stevie. Do you remember me?”
His eyes were suspicious as they traveled over Hope’s face for long moments. Eventually, he nodded in reply.
Hope smiled with relief. “I’m happy you’ve come to stay with us for a few days. Do you remember Uncle Drake?”
Beside her, Drake reached down and shook the child’s hand as though he were a business associate. “Hello, young man.”
Tilting his head way back, Stevie looked up at Drake, and much to Hope’s surprise, a glimmer of trust replaced the doubt in the child’s eyes.
“Hello, sir.”
Drake’s