Found: Her Long-Lost Husband

Let’s get this over with.

He snatched up the receiver. “What can I do for you, Claire?”

Not bad, he decided. He came across as busy, impatient, maybe even a little bit bored. She, on the other hand, sounded just as he remembered when she said his name: sexy as hell with that smoky, throaty tone.

“Ethan. How are you?”

He leaned back in his chair, resting one ankle across the opposite knee, and ignored the tug of lust. “Fine, but a little surprised. I have to tell you, Claire, I didn’t figure you’d even remember me after all this time.”

“I remember you.”

Because her tone had gone soft, he hardened his. “I remember you, too.” Not fondly was implied. “So, to what do I owe the…pleasure?”

“I need to speak with you.”

“Mayfield in the market for a new security system? Hope you’re not counting on the family discount.”

She ignored the insult, which made him feel small for issuing it in the first place. “No. Actually, it’s a…personal matter.”

He planted both feet on the floor again and straightened. “Nothing between us was ever personal.”

“We were married,” she said.

“Do a couple of days spent as husband and wife qualify as a real marriage?” he asked softly.

“It felt like the real thing at the time.”

The words surprised him. They sneaked past his defenses and made him remember things best left forgotten.

“Well, you’d have more experience in that regard than me,” he replied.

“What do you mean by that?”

She sounded honestly baffled. He had no intention of enlightening her since it would involve delving into their past. “Look, Claire, I’m busy.”

“I know. I checked out your company’s Web site, by the way.” There was a smile in her voice when she added, “Seaver Security Solutions is quite a success. You must be very proud.”

“I am.” After a brief pause, he said, “Is that what you called to tell me?”

“No. Actually, I…I have something of yours I need to return and some things I’d like to say. I’m calling to set up a meeting, perhaps later this week. I promise not to take up much of your time.”

“You already have,” he informed her. “Besides, I’ll be out of the office later this week.”

“Next week, then.”

“Next week too. Whatever you have of mine I haven’t missed it, so there’s no need to return it. As for what you want to tell me after all these years, I’m listening.”

“It’s hard to explain, especially over the telephone.”

His curiosity was well and truly stoked but he replied blandly, “Try, because this is the only opportunity I’m going to give you.”

On the other end of the line, Claire paced in front of the large window in her apartment’s living room. Outside, the sun was just coming up, spreading a warm amber glow over the velvety smooth waters of Lake Michigan. Inside, her emotions were choppy and churning. This wasn’t going as she had hoped. She’d rehearsed what she’d planned to say, knew the words by heart. The problem was that Ethan was refusing to go along with her script and she was just no good at ad-libbing.

“Well?” he prompted as she continued to grope for the right words.

Claire studied the simple gold band she held between her index finger and thumb. “I…I regret the way things turned out between us. I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.” Ethan’s harsh laughter scraped against her ear. “Hell, you get right down to it, Claire, we hardly knew one another.”

Hardly knew one another? There were times when she’d thought he could see into her soul. In a few short weeks, she’d sworn he’d understood her better than anyone else ever had.

“You ticked me off, sure,” he continued conversationally. “I have wondered, though.”

She swallowed. “About what?”

“Why me? What made you pick me? I mean, there had to have been other guys who were, shall we say, more in your league?” He made a humming noise. “Hell, maybe that was my appeal. Blue-collar background, dirt under the nails so to speak, a little rough around the edges socially. I suppose I provided what you would call shock value.”

“No.” Though he couldn’t see her, Claire shook her head vehemently. “I…I liked you, Ethan. Really. I liked you a lot.”

He snorted. “You liked me. I hope you haven’t made it a habit to marry every man you like.” His voice lowered. “But then you didn’t marry me because you liked me, did you, Claire?”

“No.” One small word, and yet she all but choked on it. “You used me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, ashamed. He’d known. Of course he’d known. “I’m sorry, Ethan. Truly, I am. I acted badly, selfishly. I put you in a very awkward position because I was immature.”

In response to her heartfelt mea culpa, all he offered was a bland, “Yes.”

She tamped down the beginnings of temper. It wasn’t as if Ethan hadn’t gotten something for his trouble. She remembered the check. He’d had it in his hand, hadn’t even tried to hide it as he’d let her walk away.

Claire studied the gold band in her own hand. This was about her behavior, not his.

“I am sorry,” she managed again.

“Why?”

Claire frowned. “I think I just explained why.”

“I guess I mean, why apologize now? It’s been, what, ten years? Excuse me for suspecting an ulterior motive here, but it seems strange that, after all this time, you are suddenly calling me to say you’re sorry.”

Claire caught her reflection in the window’s glass. A woman with short, sassy hair and an angled-up chin that bespoke confidence stared back.

“I’ve changed.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “Me, too, Claire. I’ve changed, too. Don’t contact me again. Unless, of course, it’s to discuss business. In that case, I’ll be more than happy to give your father a quote for a new security system, either for Mayfield’s Chicago headquarters or any of its other sites in the United States or abroad.”

“It wouldn’t bother you to take his money?” she asked quietly, though she already knew the answer.

“Not in the least. Goodbye.”