Married By Mistake

no point. That she didn’t need or want anyone if she couldn’t have James.
    Blast you, James Carmichael, for leaving me a widow. Do you know how lonely I feel every day? Every night?
    When Sam was coherent and no longer in immediate danger of destroying anything, she followed him into the living room.
    She’d never been to this house before, and now she looked around with curiosity. Leather couches and chunky wooden tables stamped a masculine seal on the high-ceilinged room. A deep-piled rug in chocolate-brown warmed the floor, and bookshelves lined the walls.
    The room was comfortable, uncluttered. Expensive. Adam often said Sam had the sharpest legal brain in Memphis. In these surroundings, Eloise could almost believe there was another side to the man, beyond his bumbling adoration.
    She moved toward the nearest couch, and a sudden prickling in her throat made her cough. Now she smelled a familiar, spicy aroma, saw the faint blue haze that hung over the coffee table.
    Sam caught the direction of her gaze. “Let me get rid of that.” He pushed aside the newspaper spread across the table, and reached for his cigar, grinding the lighted tip into the cut-glass ashtray until it looked quite dead.
    “Thank you,” Eloise said. She waited for him to offer her a seat.
    But Sam was looking her up and down, taking in her fitted mint-green suit and ivory silk blouse with an overtness that surprised her. “That’s a very nice outfit, Eloise. You look...crisp and, uh, fresh.”
    Gracious, the man has no idea. Small wonder he’d never found himself a wife. “You make me sound like an apple.”
    He blushed again. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I meant to say you look...you look...” The hunger in his eyes dismayed Eloise.
    Mercy. “I can’t stay long, I’m on my way out for dinner,” she said. He appeared so alarmed, she had to add, “At a girlfriend’s house.”
    “You look sensational,” he blurted, as if he’d just found the right word. “And those shoes are perfect.”
    Call her vain, but Eloise couldn’t help smiling. “You know, Sam,” she said, “next time you meet an attractive, unattached lady, you should try paying her a compliment like that. You’ll be amazed at the results.”
    “But you’re an—”
    “May we talk about Adam now, please?” she said firmly.
    At last, he showed her to a seat, and took the leather recliner next to her.
    Eloise crossed her legs at the ankles, and strove for the right blend of command and entreaty. “I need to know about this wedding. I spoke to Adam on his cell phone, but he wouldn’t talk—you know how he gets. Now he’s not answering at all. Tell me what’s going on, Sam.”
    Patently uncomfortable, the lawyer ran a hand through his iron-gray hair. “Adam is...married.”
    She tightened her grip on her purse. “But who is she? How long has he known her? Does he love her?” Eloise heard the rise in her voice as she asked the questions that had kept her awake the past two nights. She drew a deep breath. “Sam, I’m worried my pressuring him to find a wife might have driven Adam to do something foolish.”
    Sam shifted in his seat, clearly agitated. Eloise could see he wanted to help her, but his voice was firm when he said, “Adam’s my client. You know I can’t tell you that.”
    She flashed her most charming smile. “Now, Sam, we’re friends. At least tell me if the woman is nice. Does she love Adam?” Eloise swallowed. “I can’t bear the thought of someone else latching on to Adam for what she can get.” Not after what the poor boy was going through with his aunt and his cousin. “Tell me at least if you made her sign a prenup.”
    Still surprisingly unmoved, Sam spread his hands. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
    “Does his marriage mean Anna May’s lawsuit won’t get anywhere?” Eloise pressed. If Adam had traded one grasping woman for another, he might at least come out even.
    Sam coughed for several long seconds, with the apparent intention of ignoring her question.
    “Don’t think your smoker’s cough lets you off the hook,” she said reprovingly. “Maybe you can’t talk about Adam, but you can about Anna May.”
    But Sam remained annoyingly reticent. “Hmm, you know your sister-in-law.”
    Which Eloise did, only too well. James’s sister clung to Henry, her son, in a way that had stopped the boy growing into a man with any decent backbone. Not like Adam—so independent, so strong-minded. Of course, sometimes it