Consequences by Margot Dalton

Author:Margot Dalton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THEY WERE STILL a glum, silent trio when they arrived at June’s house and hesitated in the foyer. Lucia put her hand on the other woman’s arm.

“Will you be all right, June?” she asked. “Maybe we should go into your kitchen and have that cup of cocoa together.”

“I’m fine,” June said, shaking Lucia’s hand away. “But real tired. If it’s all right with you, I think I’ll just go straight to bed.”

She pulled off the wreath of wilting flowers and rummaged in a pocket for the key to her apartment. Lucia watched and exchanged another troubled glance with Jim, who took her elbow and shook his head slightly.

Lucia nodded and followed him upstairs. On the landing they paused, listening while June trudged inside and locked the door behind her.

“Oh, the poor woman,” Lucia whispered. “I feel so sorry for her. Maybe we should have insisted on staying with her for a while.”

“She’s trying not to cry,” Jim said quietly. “And I think it’s best for June to be alone right now, because she couldn’t stand to show that kind of emotion in front of us.”

He was right, of course, and sensitive as usual to the feelings of others. Lucia walked up the rest of the stairs with him and paused awkwardly by the entrance to his second-floor apartment.

“Well,” she said, “it’s been fun, but I guess our evening’s over now.”

“Hardly,” he told her.

“It’s not?”

“Not until you take me upstairs and give me a drink, Lucia.”

“But I don’t think—”

He silenced her with a brief, hard kiss that took her breath away.

“All right,” she whispered when she was able to speak again. “Maybe just one drink.” Her heart was beating noisily and she felt breathless with anticipation.

But when they reached her apartment, Jim seemed in no hurry to make a sexual advance. Instead, he peeled off his fake mustache and the silk bandanna, dropping them on the couch with obvious relief, then reached over to remove Lucia’s turban.

He lifted it gently from her head and fluffed the hair that had been flattened for so long under the tight cap of red silk.

“You look like a little girl about six years old,” he said, smoothing her hair and gazing down at her fondly. “So sweet.”

She reached up and held his hand for a moment, transfixed by the look in his eyes. At last she pulled herself away and crossed the room to open the little bar next to her stereo.

“I don’t have much in the way of liquor,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual. “Just some whiskey and a bottle of white wine.”

“What are you having?”

“Tomato juice.”

“You’re really not a drinker, are you?” He watched her with interest.

Not when I’m pregnant…

“I’ve behaved improperly all evening without the benefit of alcohol,” she said, trying to laugh. “God knows what I’d be doing if I had a couple of drinks under my belt.”

He grinned. “Well, that might be fun to watch.”

“For you, maybe,” she said, making a face at him. “Wine or whiskey?”

“You’d better just pour me some of that tomato juice.

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