Billion Dollar Bride. Muriel Jensen

you dislike an otherwise beautiful name because you associate it with someone you can’t stand. Personally, I think Robert William would be a perfect name for a boy.”

      “Not Robert,” R.J. said.

      “But it’s your name,” Dana insisted.

      “You just explained why we hate some names. And I have reason to hate that one.”

      She sighed wearily. “It’s time to put that away.”

      He opened the door. Though he didn’t dispute her statement, something in his stance, in his manner, said he would never forgive his long-missing father. His love for Dana had resolved many things in his life, but not that. Never that.

      Anna hugged her sister-in-law. “Congratulations, Dana. I’m so happy for both of you. Start thinking about a list of invitees for the shower because I’m going to begin planning it right away.”

      Dana kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Anna. I’d love that. We’d love that.”

      As she headed for the car, R.J. lingered an extra moment and asked Anna quietly, “You’re okay?”

      “Of course,” she replied, pretending she had no idea why he asked the question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

      “I’m sure it’s…hard for you to be happy for us.”

      She punched his shoulder playfully. “A lot you know. I’m thrilled that the two of you have it all. Go! Dana’s waiting for you.”

      R.J. honked the horn as they backed out of the driveway, and Anna closed the door and looked into her son’s concerned expression.

      “I should probably learn something about sports,” he said as they walked to the sofa.

      “Why?” Anna asked in surprise.

      “Because if they do have a boy and I’m going to be his older cousin, he’ll probably want to learn things from me.”

      Anna withheld a smile, afraid he’d misunderstand. “I imagine he will.”

      “And I don’t think the stockmarket is going to thrill a little kid.”

      “Probably not.”

      “Maybe Uncle R.J. will take me to the gym when he and Drake and Michael and Uncle Mitchell play basketball.”

      “You’ll have to ask him.”

      They settled onto the sofa again, and Will reclined against his pillows, pulling the throw over him. He continued to look concerned. “You think I’ll get killed on the court?” he asked worriedly. “I’m not very fast. That’s why I don’t play sports.”

      She tried not to make an issue of it. He rode his bike all the time, so she was sure he got enough exercise, but it was a relatively solitary activity, and she often wished he’d get involved in team sports for the social benefits.

      “I suppose you could try it. Practice might make you quicker. But if you still don’t like it or don’t feel comfortable playing, you don’t have to. I’m sure your cousin will love you anyway and will have lots of other things to learn from you.”

      Will sighed, and she felt his feet resting against her relax.

      “My father was really a jerk to not love you,” he said, turning his face to the television. “You know everything.”

      Later, when he was asleep in his bed and she walked through the house turning off lights, checking that the doors were locked, Anna thought maybe she should have recorded that statement to play back to him when he was a teenager and inevitably came to doubt her knowledge and experience.

      She felt oddly restless. She was thrilled about her brother’s baby, but it would put a little more distance between them, just as his marriage had.

      After her divorce, she and R.J. had supported each other in their single lives. She’d accompanied him when he needed a woman on his arm at some function or other, and he’d been her escort when she’d required one. He’d cheerfully gone with Will to father-son functions at school.

      But now he had his own family to think of. He had all the things she’d hoped to find with John and failed.

      Having glimpsed the possibilities of a marriage based on shared loved made contemplating her single status that much more difficult.

      With a toss of her head, she walked upstairs, reminding herself how much she’d hated living with John. The only good thing to come out of their relationship was Will.

      She walked into her pink and green bedroom, redecorated last year when she’d been in a mood like the one she was in tonight. Leaning in the doorway, she reflected how perfect it looked, bed linens layered and coordinated, window treatments matching, family pictures hung on the walls and interspersed with beautiful wreaths and swags from Hope Logan’s gift shop at the hospital.

      She folded her arms and allowed her irrepressible sense of humor to slip into her melancholy mood.

      What she needed was an arrangement like Caroline’s. She needed some kind, intelligent man to want her simply for sex.

      She laughed out loud at that thought. A kind man would never want a woman simply for sex, but she couldn’t help but think that it would suit her needs right now.

      It was impossible to deny that she was lonely and getting older. There hadn’t been time for serious relationships since John had left, and she didn’t believe in casual ones. With Will aware of everything, she’d thought it easier to be celibate than to be careful.

      But, strangely, that was becoming more difficult as she grew older. She was very aware that soon her chances at finding love would disappear altogether, and it was hard to face the reality that she would never—ever—know what it was like to lie with a man who loved her for herself.

      So maybe she should look around for someone who was only interested in sex.

      With a sigh, she accepted that she would never do that with Will just down the hall.

      She flipped the light off and climbed into her perfect bed, an unbidden image taking shape in her head. It was Caroline Lamont and Austin Cahill standing at the foot of a bed somewhere in Kauai. Long sheer curtains fluttered into the room on the night breeze, revealing a sliver of moon in the sky.

      Anna closed her eyes against the picture, annoyed and ashamed that it had come to her. But it persisted.

      He was a little cool, she remembered, and he admitted that he was a busy man. Would he take his time? She wondered idly, then hated herself for entertaining the thought. What was wrong with her? She felt like a voyeur.

      But she couldn’t help it. Then an odd change took place. The naked feminine body in his arms was familiar—hips a little too wide, breasts a little too full. It was her!

      While that vision was even more horrifying, it also made it somehow more acceptable to watch as Austin Cahill did everything that she’d dreamed a man would do to her—for her.

      Her breath grew shallow as the image became real enough for her to feel his touch against her skin, his breath on her cheek, the graze of his knee against her thigh as he rose over her.

      With a growl of disgust at herself, she sat up in bed, turned on the bedside light and simply sat there, heart pounding in her chest, fingers trembling.

      She experienced a moment of real shock as she realized how deeply she was affected by an adolescent daydream.

      Maybe a cold shower would help, she thought half-seriously. She opted instead to go downstairs and give some serious thought to R.J. and Dana’s shower.

      Planning someone else’s party always helped her forget her own deprivations.