Free Her Sexy Valentine by Stephanie Bond Page A

kiss on the young woman’s temple. “Hi, sweetheart.”
    Carol’s heart squeezed. James…it had been so long since she’d heard his voice, she’d almost forgotten what it sounded like. Music to her heart.
    â€œHappy Valentine’s Day,” he said, then slid a small gift box across the table.
    Carol remembered how her pulse had skipped higher at the size of the box, thinking—hoping—it contained a ring. She had opened the box with shaking fingers, and although her heart had dropped in disappointment at the sight of silver-and-emerald earrings, she had pulled a bright smile out of thin air and gushed over the thoughtful present.
    â€œEmeralds,” he said, “are the sign of a successful love.”
    She put the earrings on and leaned forward to thank him with a kiss. After they ordered drinks, she slipped her gift for him out of herpurse. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she said, pushing it toward him.
    Carol watched her younger self, her stomach taut with nerves.
    James opened the box and seemed surprised. “A ring? I love it, darling.” He removed the chunky horseshoe ring with small diamonds from its case and slipped it on his finger.
    Carol was pleased that it looked classy, yet masculine on his hand.
    â€œThank you,” he said, then leaned forward for another kiss.
    She shifted nervously on her chair. “Actually, it’s not just a ring.”
    James’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”
    â€œActually…I was hoping…that is, I was wondering…”
    â€œYes? What is it, dear?”
    â€œJames…will you marry me?”
    Watching the scene unfold, Carol emitted a mournful sound. She knew too well what was coming next.
    James dropped his gaze, then took his time lifting his glass for a drink. Finally, he used his napkin to wipe the perspiration from hisforehead. She noticed his pallor had gone gray.
    â€œJames?” Carol prompted. “Is something wrong?”
    He reached across the table to clasp her hand. “No. I mean…yes. I’ve wanted to tell you something, but the timing never seemed right.”
    Carol remembered that at this point, her first worry had been that James was seriously ill. How naive she’d been.
    â€œWhatever it is,” she said, “tell me now.”
    â€œThis isn’t easy to say, but…I’ve been spending time with another woman, and…she’s going to have my baby.”
    Carol watched her younger self, the myriad of emotions that played over her face—disbelief, shock, hurt, anger. She jerked her hand from his as if she’d been burned. “You’re lying.”
    James drained his drink, then set the glass on the table with a thud. “I’m sorry, but I want to do the right thing. She and I are getting married. See you around.” Then he got up and walked out of the frame.
    Carol had always wondered what she must’ve looked like that night to other diners…sitting there dressed up, wearing the earrings James had just given her, her face a mask of incredulity. Now she knew. She looked as if she’d been punched in the stomach, or as if she expected James to come back and announce that he’d been playing a practical joke. In fact, she’d sat there and ordered and eaten a meal by herself, just in case James did return.
    He hadn’t, of course.
    Carol’s cheeks felt wet, and she realized she was crying. “Other than losing my parents, that was the worst night of my life.”
    â€œI know,” Gabrielle said quietly. “And I’m sorry to make you relive it. But you need to see that you are not to blame for what James did. His irresponsible and hurtful behavior is his to own. You did nothing wrong.”
    â€œI trusted him,” Carol said. “That was wrong.”
    â€œTrusting James was misguided,” Gabrielle corrected, “but it wasn’t wrong. It’s never wrong to love.