Married By Mistake

tenderness was unexpected, and tears smarted in Casey’s eyes. Adam came around the table and dropped down beside her. Gently, he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then ran a finger down her cheek. “My poor darling,” he said, and her heart leaped. “I don’t know what to say....”
    Tell me you love me, that you want me for myself.
    But she might as well wish for the problem with her fertility to magically disappear. Adam was being kind, but in his eyes she could still see shock and, worse, distance.
    She looked at him steadily, made absolutely sure he understood what she was saying, and put the final nail in the coffin. “So if you want a child, it won’t be with me.”
    She saw, in the sudden blankness of his expression, that he was letting her go. That although he wanted to marry her—and she knew, even if he didn’t, that his offer included some degree of emotional commitment—he wanted to secure the business more. And she accepted that. He would never love her as much as she loved him, no matter how fond he was of her now.
    He had made his choice; now she must make hers. So though it hurt beyond measure, she pushed her chair back and stood. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”
    “Casey, there’s no rush. Can’t we—?”
    “My writing conference starts tomorrow night,” she reminded him. “It’ll take all day to drive to Dallas.” She paused. “I won’t come back afterward.”
    Adam looked at her, stone-faced, and said nothing.
    * * *
    C ASEY COULDN ’ T HAVE children!
    Adam was still struggling to absorb it as he lay in bed, trying to sleep.
    He felt betrayed, as if she had lied to him. He shouldn’t, of course he shouldn’t, but she’d allowed him to come to this momentous decision that he wanted to marry her, which went against all good sense, without telling him the one thing that would never have allowed him to get to this point.
    He was being totally unreasonable, he knew. Hadn’t he reiterated over and over to Casey that their marriage would have no future beyond the time it took to get an annulment? Until now, her fertility had been none of his business.
    And yet he felt cheated of the babies he’d pictured them making together, robbed of the family life he’d imagined.
    But however painful this was for him, it was worse for her. A part of him wanted to take her in his arms, comfort her, murmur to her that it didn’t matter, they’d be all right.
    But it did matter. And they wouldn’t be all right.
    * * *
    C ASEY DIDN ’ T SEE A DAM again until the next morning. She breakfasted early, alone, then went to pack her bags. She’d half hoped, half dreaded that he would go to work without saying goodbye, but when she came downstairs at nine o’clock, he was waiting.
    “I’ll take those.” He picked up her bags and carried them outside, where he loaded them into the trunk of the Fiesta. It took only a minute, then she was ready to leave.
    She cleared her throat. “Goodbye, Adam. It’s been a memorable month. Thanks for your help.” She stuck out a hand, but he ignored it.
    Instead, he cupped her face in his palms and kissed her fiercely. “Goodbye, Casey.”
    She clambered into the car, holding herself rigid so she wouldn’t cry. She turned the key in the ignition and—nothing happened. She tried again, several times. Still nothing.
    “Aargh!” Casey thumped the steering wheel in frustration, and the movement released the tears she’d held in check for so long. She was weeping floods by the time Adam opened the door and helped her from the car.
    He held her against him, arms wrapped around her, shushing her gently, one hand stroking her head.
    “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s probably the battery.”
    “I got a new battery back in May.”
    “It’ll be the starter motor then. We can have it fixed by tomorrow.”
    “But I have to be in Dallas tonight,” she wailed, knowing she never would have cried about such a thing if she hadn’t been at the end of her tether.
    “Take my car.”
    She hiccupped. “I can’t take the Aston Martin.”
    “Of course you can,” he said calmly. He pulled his keys from his pocket and pressed the remote control. The vehicle beeped obediently as the doors unlocked. “You have to get to Dallas and sell that book.”
    While Casey wiped her tears and blew her nose, Adam unloaded the bags from her trunk and put them in his. He handed her the keys. “Come back after the conference and we’ll do a swap,” he said.