Chapter 2
He shot her an impatient glance before looking down at the mountain of paperwork on his desk.
He did not have time for the drama. He had some very crucial decisions to make regarding the company and there was a pile of scripts on his desk to sort out.
Marital issues were the least of his problems right now.
"I don't need to prove a damn thing." He lifted his left hand, and it was then she noticed, with painful clarity, the missing wedding ring.
Their wedding had been a grand event, mostly organized by his mother.
If it had been up to her, she would have preferred a quiet ceremony in a small chapel.
But Marianne Copeland had insisted that her only child and the heir to the Copeland fortune could not have anything less than a showpiece wedding.
Eliza had bought the ring, had lovingly selected it to match the stunning square-cut diamond he had given her. Now he wasn't wearing it. When was the last time she had seen it on his finger? she wondered, her breath backing up inside her throat.
"What is it?"
"Your ring," she whispered.
"My what?"
"Your ring, the one I placed on your finger, the one you swore to wear till death do us part.
" Her eyes lifted to his and he felt his gut clench at the look of defeat and despair on her stunning face.
He never meant to hurt her, but that's all he seemed to do and it didn't matter that it was unintentional.
"It's no big deal. I had to get my hands dirty during a scene two weeks ago and…"
"Two weeks ago?" Where had she been and why hadn't she noticed that he wasn't wearing his ring?
"Look, there's no need…"
He jolted when she slammed her hands down on the desk, eyes blazing. "Are you having an affair, Samuel? Is that the reason for all these changes?"
His gray eyes kindled with anger. "I will not grace that with a response."
"You're evading the question, which means you are." Straightening, she took a deep breath. "Do you want a divorce?"
His hands clenched into fists and he felt the guilt coursing through him.
He had thought about it, several times. He had also been tempted to sleep with someone else.
The marriage wasn't going great. They both worked too hard and too long and hardly had time for each other. And he was disillusioned.
He wanted a child. He was thirty-six years old and all their enthusiastic coupling over the years hadn't produced an heir. A child to call his own.
"No." He swung away from the desk and strode over to the cabinet. It was still early afternoon, but he was badly in need of a drink, and he was bloody well going to have one. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he poured a finger and downed it in one gulp.
"Who's she?"
He had his back turned to her, but he could hear the pain in her voice.
"I'm not having an affair."
Eliza felt the relief coursing through her and felt weak.
"I went to the clinic."
His broad shoulders stiffened. "We're not doing this again."
"I want this. We both do."
"We haven't been able to produce a child the natural way, so we should just leave it alone."
"I can't, and if you still care for me, you will come to the clinic with me."
Still care for her?
He couldn't do anything without thinking about her. Even when he hated her, he still loved her. It was frustrating the hold she had over him.
Turning around, he examined the exquisite features of her face.
The first time he had seen her was at a casting party held by a director friend of his.
He had been enchanted by her looks, but even more so by the fact that she had properly told a popular actor off who had been trying to get her to dance with him.
During the next hour, he had noticed her again, tucking finger foods into her enormous purse.
He had abruptly excused himself from the group and walked over to her. It had started then.
He had a hard and fast rule: never go out with anyone he was working with, because there were always complications. But with her, he had fallen hard and fast. It had never been enough to just take her to his bed as he had thought. After the first time, he realized he could not get enough of her.
Even after five years of marriage, which had turned rocky, he was still hooked.
They were both unhappy, and the prudent thing to do was to end it before they started to hate each other. But the very idea of divorcing her, of cutting her from his life, was too much to bear.
"It's risky."
Hope flared in her magnificent eyes. "A natural pregnancy is risky." She abandoned her pride and hurt and crossed the room to stand in front of him. He was tall, topping 6'3", and she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "I'm willing to take the risks."
"I'm not." His eyes dropped to her lips, and he felt the familiar stirring of passion.
She saw the kindling and used it. Placing an elegant, long-fingered hand on his chest, she pleaded her case. "I'm not taking any more parts. I've hung up my acting shoes. All I want to do is to be a mother."
His eyes flared at that. He was in an industry where most women in her position were greedy for recognition and fame. Even when they had it all, they still wanted more. His wife had never been like that.
She was excellent at what she did and dedicated herself to her craft with a single-mindedness that was admirable.
When she had landed the part of the main character in the series, she had visited the local precinct every day to learn about policies and procedures.
It was never enough for her to be mediocre; she had to be outstanding.
The result: a top-rated performance that had sneaked its way into millions of fans all over the world.
She had taken a character that was supposed to be ordinary and turned her into a beloved detective who was dedicated to righting the wrongs of the world.
And to think that she was willing to give it all up… it was unthinkable.
"I cannot be responsible for you deciding that you don't want to act anymore. It's who you are."
She shook her head. "It's what I do. And now I want to be a mother. You cannot deny me that."
"Eliza…"
"No." She shook her head wildly, lustrous mahogany brown hair flying. "I want to do this, and all I'm asking for is your cooperation. If you want to save our marriage, then you'll do this for me, for us."
"That's damn unfair."
"I don't care. I want this, Samuel. Please don't say no. Come to the clinic with me."
"I have to be out of town at the end of the week."
Her chin lifted. Usually in the past he would have shared his schedule with her and have his assistant send her a copy of his itinerary, but that had not happened in a long time.
"Where?"
He saw the look in her eyes and knew what she was thinking.
"There's this actor who's giving us a hard time." He shook his head, a lock of dense dark hair falling over his forehead. "I should have told you."
"It doesn't matter." She couldn't let that bother her right now. She had more important things to think about.
"Apparently it does." She still had her hand on his chest, and heat was seeping through his thin sweater. "And I apologize for not letting you know my movements."
"You can show how apologetic you are by accompanying me to the clinic on Thursday. When are you leaving?"
"Friday afternoon." Finishing the drink, he turned away from her and went to put the glass down. He had been about to ravage her mouth. Now was not the time, and they bloody well were not going to solve their problems with sex. They had tried that before, and it did not work.
"Perfect." She hid her disappointment that he had turned away instead of kissing her with a brisk tone. Walking over to the chair, she picked up her purse. "Will you be home later?"
"I have a dinner meeting, but should be there by ten, eleven at the latest." He watched her shake back her hair and scoop her fingers through the thick strands. "The goodbye party for the series is next week."
"Yes."
"How do you feel? It has been a large part of your life for twelve years."
She turned to face him and felt her heart turning over as she stared at him.
His was a hard face, not movie-star handsome.
The features were too harsh for that, but it was stamped with character and arrogance.
His chin was square, with a defined dent in the middle, his lips sensuous, the bottom lip full.
He had shown her over the years what he could do with those lips.
"I feel a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment and that it's time for the next chapter of my life. That of being a mother." Her lips curved and had his eyes dropping to them.
"You're putting too much hope on this happening. You could be disappointed," he warned.
She shrugged shapely shoulders. "I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to take a chance." She walked toward the doors, her hips moving seductively under the faded denims. Christ! She was the most sensual and sexy woman he had ever met, barring none.
"See you at home."
Her departure left a vacuum in the room, and the scent of her signature perfume filled the air. Going back to his desk, he sat down heavily, a brooding expression on his face. He knew her. How could he not?
After five years of marriage and six months of practically living together before that, he knew the way she operated, how she thought.
She had not cried and shouted. That was not her style.
His wife had class and could control her emotions.
She had learned the hard way never to let her feelings show, and he respected that about her, even though it could be as aggravating as hell too.