"I’m pleased you had a chance to meet Cheryl. I’m hoping the two of you will be friends."

"I’m sure we will be."

Riley glanced anxiously at his watch. "Listen, Steve reminded me of something this afternoon. I apologize that I didn’t have time to talk it over with you, but apparently it’s my turn to host the poker game."

"The poker game," she echoed, playing innocent.

"Yeah. Four of us from the Atlantis get together every other week or so and play low-stakes poker. With the wedding and the move, the game completely slipped my mind. Steve mentioned it this afternoon. I couldn’t very well cancel it on such short notice."

"In other words, you’d like for me to disappear for the next several hours?"

"Not at all. You can stay, if that’s what you want." But his words didn’t sound the least bit sincere. "Only…"

"Yes?" she prompted.

"The guys aren’t used to having a woman around. Steve’s the only one who’s married, so there might be some objectionable language. I’ll do my best to be sure the guys tone it down."

"I see." Hannah could picture it already. She’d be as out of place at her husband’s poker party as she was the night she rushed into the waterfront tavern. No doubt if she stayed she’d be wheezing cigarette smoke and picking up countless empty beer bottles.

"We generally drink a few beers, too, but not enough to get drunk," he added, confirming her suspicions.

"I get the point, Riley," she said, reaching for her coat and purse. "How long should I be gone?"

Her husband wasn’t a man to hesitate. He didn’t do it often but he did so now. He exhaled sharply and jerked his fingers through his hair. "I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that. I feel like enough of a heel as it is."

"One movie? Or should I plan on taking in a double feature?" she asked stoically.

"I forgot about the stupid game, all right? There’ve been other things on my mind lately. If you want to crucify me for that, then go ahead."

She took her own sweet time buttoning her coat. "Do you need me to fix you something for dinner before I leave?"

Riley shook his head. "No, thanks."

"All right then, I’ll go now. I assume you have no objections to my taking the car?"

"Of course not."

"Fine. Then I’ll plan on being back as late as I can."

He closed his eyes tightly. "Why do I feel so damn guilty?" he shouted. "I forget about a stupid poker game and – "

"Perhaps it’s the other thing you’re forgetting that’s troubling you," she announced calmly. Her heart was pounding at double time, but for all outward appearances she was the picture of serenity. A deep blue mountain lake couldn’t compare with the tranquillity she faultlessly portrayed.

"The other thing?" he yelled. "Damn it ail to hell. There’s nothing I hate more than a woman who refuses to talk straight. If you have a problem, I suggest you spell it out right now, because I refuse to play guessing games with you."

"Guessing games?" she returned flippantly. "I don’t like playing them myself." With a scornful tilt of her head she tapped her finger against her lips. Until she’d married Riley, Hannah hadn’t known it was in her to be so sarcastic. "Now let me see, when will Riley be shipping out next? I do wonder."

His mouth tightened. "Cheryl told you."

"No," Hannah cried, battling fury and pain. "She assumed I knew…assumed any husband would tell his wife. Only I’m not any wife, am I? You want me about as much as you want this marriage. You couldn’t have spelled it out any plainer than this. Well, I don’t want this marriage, either."

The crescent-shaped lines around Riley’s mouth went white. His eyes, sharp, clear, intense, cut into her as effectively as a hunting knife. It was all too apparent he was having difficulty holding on to his composure. "We’ll discuss this later."

"There’s nothing more to discuss," she retorted. "You’ve already told me everything I need to know. I’m an encumbrance in your life. You don’t want to be married to me. Trust me, it doesn’t come as any shock. I didn’t want this marriage, either – you were the one who insisted. I don’t understand why. I never intended to drag you into this. I never even intended for you to know about the baby. You were the one… Why, Riley, why did you insist upon marrying me? I have a right to know that much."

Her demand was met with stark, naked silence. She rubbed the heel of her hand down her face, wiping away evidence of her tears. She stared at him, damning him for being there that fateful night. How much simpler her life would have been if she’d called a cab. She’d been such a fool, and her stupidity was ruining three lives.

"Why did I insist upon marrying you?" he repeated hoarsely. "Because I didn’t want my son to grow up a bastard the way I did."

Chapter Seven

A hard knot tightened Riley’s stomach as the color drained from Hannah’s pale features. He felt raw and angry; the pain of years past clawed at his nerves. "I was two years old before my mother got around to marrying Bill. He didn’t last long, though. None of my mother’s men friends ever did."

Hannah’s gaze met his. Damn, but he wished she’d say something. Anything. Until she’d demanded to know why he’d insisted on marrying her, Riley hadn’t given the matter much thought. The answer was complicated by a multitude of other factors. Rather than stick his reasons under a microscope, Riley preferred not to think about them. Marriage was the best solution, or so it had seemed at the time. Riley wasn’t sure of that any longer.

Unshed tears glistened in Hannah’s dove-gray eyes. She’d never looked more frail, as though it was all she could do to remain upright. He noted how ragged her breathing was as she edged her way past him. Riley reached out to her, wanting with everything in him to ease her mind in some small way, but she flinched and snatched her arm from him before he could touch her.

He stood numb and empty. The power of her silence wounded him deeply. He was aware, too, of her pain; and knowing he was the one responsible cut unmercifully at his heart.

Riley watched her move down the hallway, her steps like those of a sleepwalker. As she opened the door to her room and walked inside, he experienced a weighty sadness. He was standing there trying to decide what to do, if anything, when the muted sounds of her sobs reached him. Riley wasn’t sure who she wept for – him or for herself. Perhaps her sorrow was for their unborn child.

Unable to listen to her anguish and do nothing, Riley reacted to his instincts. God as his witness, he’d never meant to hurt Hannah. Her door wasn’t locked, and for that much he was grateful. She was curled up in a tight ball on top of her bed, her soft dark hair cascading over her face and neck. Her shoulders were racked with sobs.

Led by impulse, Riley moved to her side and sat on the edge of the mattress. With gentle fingers, he brushed the hair from her face, fearing she’d pull away from him again. He couldn’t have borne it if she had. As strange as it seemed, he needed her at that moment as much as she needed him, although he was certain neither would be willing to admit as much.

Not knowing how to relieve her anxiety, or his own, he lay down beside her, resting his head on the same pillow as hers. For long moments he simply watched her, hoping his being there would lend her comfort.

After a while her tears abated and she opened her eyes. They were round and weary, as if mirroring her soul. Her innocence and her beauty stirred him, and without examining the sudden, fierce need that flamed to life within him, he kissed her.

Riley intended for the kiss to be uncomplicated, a gesture of apology, a form of absolution for the hurt they’d inflicted upon each other. But once his mouth met hers, all was lost. Moaning, Hannah opened to him. He reached for her, entwining his fingers in her hair, dragging her closer to him. Deepening the kiss, he sought her tongue with his own.

When she shyly moved her tongue against his, Riley felt as though the bed had fallen out from under him. They kissed again, and it was slow and gentle, so damned gentle that it produced an overpowering ache. Not a physical ache, as Riley would have expected, but an emotional one, buried so deep that at first he couldn’t identify it. He felt close to Hannah, closer than he had in all the time they’d been married. The walls of misunderstanding and pride were down, broken, shattered by a newfound willingness to help each other.

His hands caressed her cheeks and tenderly brushed aside the stray tendrils of hair from her sweet face. Their gazes met in a rush of need and longing. The questions were there, as bold as ever, but they didn’t bother with words, didn’t bother with explanations.

Riley had never known a silence so blissful. A contented silence. The sweetest silence he’d ever known. Precious moments of tenderness unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

Shyly, Hannah leaned forward and kissed him, curling her tongue around his. Heat against heat. Hand against hand, fingers entwined. Their mouths dueled in a love-starved battle as though they had an eternity to do nothing but savor one another. Wherever his life would lead him, whatever happened between him and Hannah, Riley realized he would always treasure these few, precious moments with her.

Ending the kiss slowly, Riley buried his face in her shoulder and dragged several deep breaths through his chest. He dared not look at her when he spoke, afraid of what he would read in her eyes.

"Can you feel Junior move yet?"

"I…don’t know," she whispered back, her smile evident. "Sometimes I’m sure I do, but then I convince myself it’s all part of my imagination. The doctor said I should feel him kick any time now."

"Can I feel?"

She smiled and nodded. Taking his hand, she pressed it against her stomach, holding it there. Her hand over his. His hand over her abdomen. Riley lifted his gaze until it met hers, waited for movement, then sadly shook his head. He was barely able to distinguish the slight thickening at her waist, and only then because she was so thin.

"There… are other changes," she whispered.

Once more he raised questioning eyes to hers, not sure he understood.

"My breasts are fuller."

Risking all, Riley gently cupped his hands over her glorious breasts, lifting them, allow them to fill his palms. Touching her so intimately had an immediate effect upon him. The hardness eloquently portrayed his plight. He wanted her. He needed her. It would be weeks before he’d be able to hold her and touch her again, and knowing that lent an urgency to his desire. For two weeks he’d been patient, doing nothing to pressure her, but he needed her now as. he never had before. So much so that he was willing to broach the forbidden subject.

"I want to make love to you." Riley had always been direct. He might have dressed up his desire with a bunch of fancy words, or drugged her with kisses until she willingly submitted. But he wasn’t willing to do either. When Hannah came to his bed, he wanted her to be fully aware of what she was doing and with whom.