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.Or should be, if you had a functioning brain.On Christmas Day he should have realized that they were on the fast track to the finish line.The way she’d acted about the bracelet would have tipped off a smarter man.But then, a smarter man never would’ve gone back to the apartment lugging Chinese food, ice cream, and flowers like some psychotic, sex-obsessed wise man bearing tribute.Good word, tribute.Exactly what that spoiled, foul-tempered ersatz princess wanted.He’d known cleaning women who had more compassion for people in their little fingers than Isabelle had in her whole perfect, luscious, incredible body.“Son of a bitch!” He glanced around the austere hotel room.It was too quiet.Too uncluttered.Too much like his apartment back in New York.Lately he’d found himself craving chaos and noise the way he once craved solitude and silence.The least the hotel should’ve done was install a speedbag for him.Instead, the concierge had looked at him as if he’d asked for an AK-47 and a target.It always came down to sex.He and Isabelle had their problems, but when it came to what went on between the sheets, they were a match made by the gods.The more he had, the more he wanted.A simple equation, but one that had kept the most unlikely couples together through the ages.Too bad it wasn’t going to be enough for them.No, he thought, pacing the room.He and the little princess had to talk to each other, try to have a relationship, when what they should’ve done was screwed each other’s brains out until the thrill was gone and they could say good-bye and mean it.If she wanted to talk to him, she could damn well pick up the phone and call him.He was through.* * *“Lost your mind, lovey, that’s what you’ve done.Living in the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter and with you in a family way.’Tisn’t right, I tell you.Nothing good can come of it.”“Oh, be quiet, Maxine.If I have to listen to you complain for the next two hours I’ll go mad.”“I second that,” said Ivan, behind the wheel of his 1976 baby blue Cadillac.“You want to hear complaints, Izzy, come to the office.Complaints she’s got plenty of.Good ideas?” He shrugged his shoulders.“Not so many.”“Fine,” said Maxine, going all huffy.“I’m no fool.“I’ll not be saying another word about the subject.Any subject.”Isabelle met Ivan’s eyes, and they both burst into laughter.It was the first good laugh Isabelle had had in the two weeks since she’d discovered she was pregnant.Maxine wouldn’t be able to hold her tongue long enough for them to cross the Delaware River into Pennsylvania.She patted Ivan’s hand affectionately.What a dear man he was.When Isabelle announced her decision to leave the city for a while in order to think through the tangle her life had become, Ivan had immediately stepped forward and offered the use of his cabin in the Poconos.“Fancy it isn’t,” he’d said in his inimitable way.“Hot water, cold water, appliances, and a bed.You want the Plaza, don’t come to the Poconos.”Isabelle didn’t want the Plaza.She didn’t know what she wanted except the chance to be alone.The enormity of her situation had finally hit her, and she’d experienced a blinding flash of revelation.She was pregnant.It didn’t just mean a fat belly and huge dresses and puffing and panting on a delivery table.Inside her body another person was growing bigger every day, a person who was totally dependent upon her for all of his or her needs.Oxygen.Nourishment.Security.Not just for nine months, but for the next eighteen or twenty years.And she’d have to teach the child so many things—things she had yet to learn for herself.Was it any wonder she’d stayed in bed for two days with the covers pulled over her head after Dr.McCaffree had given her the news?Finally it occurred to her that even if she stayed under the covers for the next six months, she couldn’t avoid the inevitable; and so she got up, got dressed, and set about the task of building a life, which wasn’t easy, considering she had no idea where to start.God must have been watching over her when He’d seen fit to convince Juliana to release the trust fund.Knowing that she had a nest egg to fall back upon did make facing the future a tad less terrifying.More and more it looked like she would be facing that future alone.Bronson had called twice, and she’d refused to speak to him.She’d been positive he would call again, the way men did in the romantic films she loved, but he didn’t.She’d been tempted to phone his assistant Phyllis for his number in Tokyo, but pride prevented her from doing so.She’d also considered calling Cathy or Matty just to say hello, but they would have seen through that ruse in the blink of an eye.You have a lousy poker face, princess, Bronson had said a long time ago, and she finally understood what he meant by that.* * *Ivan’s “cabin” was really a small A-frame chalet-style house set at the foot of a mountain.It boasted a view of Lake Wallenpaupack, two working fireplaces, and the most comfortable—if unattractive—furniture Isabelle had ever seen.“The kitchen’s all electric,” Ivan said, pointing out the stove and refrigerator and dishwasher as if Isabelle wouldn’t recognize the appliances without a guide.“You get into any trouble, you call me.”Isabelle had purchased a microwave at Macy’s before leaving the city and was sure it would be her passport to culinary delights from the frozen food counter of the local market.“I’ll be fine, Ivan.” She gave him a hug.“I appreciate this more than I can say.” Preserving her anonymity had been important to her given the circumstances.She would decide when or if to tell Bronson about the baby.She didn’t want his family reading about it in some sleazy tabloid publication.“Are you sure you don’t want me stayin’ with you, lovey?” Maxine asked as she and Ivan made their goodbyes [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]