The Baby Bind. Nikki Benjamin

or any night for as long as he could imagine into the future. Reasons that began and ended with the terms he’d offered Charlotte in exchange for helping her go forward with the adoption of the child she wanted—apparently more than she wanted him.

      She had taken no offense at all when he’d said that he would be filing for divorce after the adoption was final. Possibly she’d been a little surprised, perhaps even a little hurt, but only momentarily. With a measure of serenity and pragmatism that had left him surprised and hurt, she had offered agreement and understanding instead of the demurral that he’d fully anticipated.

      Sean wasn’t sure why he’d tossed out the fillip of divorce, but the moment he’d spoken the words aloud, he’d been sorry. He didn’t want to end his marriage to Charlotte. He just wanted her to honor his wishes about having, or more precisely not having, a child.

      He had thought that faced with the prospect of divorce, she would at least ask for a little time to consider the downside of going ahead with the adoption. But she hadn’t been deterred in the slightest. Which had led him to believe that she’d been pursuing the option of adopting a foreign child even after he’d revealed his true feelings about fatherhood.

      Charlotte had been so hurt and so angry with him when he’d accused her of going behind his back that she’d convinced him that he had made the wrong assumption. Yet she hadn’t denied her happiness at the opportunity she’d been given to have the child she wanted, even knowing their marriage would be over as a result.

      Her jibe about his lack of attention had stung him, as well, causing him to reciprocate in kind—not the wisest move he could have made under the circumstances, he now admitted to himself.

      He had said a lot of things to her that he probably should have kept to himself. But continuing to hide the pain he had suffered those last few months before he’d moved out of the house in Mayfair, not to mention the sense of abandonment that had overwhelmed him at times, had no longer been possible for him to do.

      Charlotte hadn’t been the only injured party in their relationship— he had been hurt, too. His tears hadn’t been shed, though. They had been swallowed along with his sense of loss, his damaged pride and his constant awareness of how powerless he was to give her the baby she wanted.

      Charlotte hadn’t been the only one faced with failure on a daily basis. How had she thought he’d felt each month when she’d come to him, sobbing, to announce the start of another menstrual period? Had she never once imagined that, looking in the mirror, he saw someone so deficient that he couldn’t provide his wife with the happiness she deserved?

      Sean had always hated knowing that he was at least partially to blame for Charlotte’s sadness and depression. To his way of thinking, ending their baby chase had seemed as good a way as any to go back to those days when they’d been able to laugh together, to play together, to be each others best friend and loving confidant.

      But his wife hadn’t wanted that. She’d only wanted a child—a child he hadn’t been able to give her…until now.

      That, Sean knew without a doubt, was why he hadn’t been able to refuse outright to help Charlotte with the adoption.

      He wanted to resent everything about the orphaned little girl waiting for them in Kazakhstan, but he couldn’t be that hard-hearted. For one thing, the child would make his wife happy in a way he obviously no longer could. And for another, he liked the idea of being the one to provide the little girl with a safe and loving home where she would be nurtured with Charlotte’s love, and care and kindness.

      He had no doubt that Charlotte would be a wonderful mother, and though he wouldn’t subject the child to his lack of parenting skills, he would see to it that she never lacked for anything, whether it was a secure home, clothes, toys, trips abroad, the best education available—

      Not a minute too soon Sean caught himself in mid- fantasy and gave himself a firm mental shake. He’d allowed himself to get carried in a direction he’d already made clear to Charlotte that he wasn’t going. He wasn’t about to become the child’s father—at least not in any way but name only. He would provide for her, though, and for Charlotte. After all, he wasn’t selfish or cruel or mean-spirited.

      Having settled that bit of business with himself, Sean sat on the edge of the bed and assessed his chances of finally being able to sleep. Still zero to none, he admitted after a minute or two, his brain buzzing in six different directions.

      He thought of the contract that he had to review; a fairly simple agreement to provide a security guard for a small trucking company in Baton Rouge that had been having problems with not-so-petty theft at their warehouse. It was in the briefcase that he’d left on the dining-room table when he’d first come home, but it wouldn’t be any trouble to go down and get it. If anything was likely to put him to sleep, it was thirty-odd pages of legalese.

      Sean only hesitated a moment or two on the second- floor landing. From there, he couldn’t tell whether the guest-room door was open or closed—the narrow hallway was much too dark. Not that it would have mattered to him, one way or the other.

      Charlotte hadn’t seemed upset about his decision to file for divorce and she hadn’t asked him to reconsider. Their marriage must already be over as far as she was concerned, in which case, it was unlikely that she’d welcome any advances on his part. Better to keep his distance than risk the most hurtful kind of rejection he could get from her.

      At the bottom of the staircase, Sean halted again, head tilted to one side. Something about the quality of the silence surrounding him gave him pause, but he wasn’t sure why. While the rain had stopped, he could still hear water dripping from the branches of the trees lining the street just outside the front door. He was sure he’d heard something else, though—a shuffling, or perhaps a snuffling sound that he couldn’t quite place.

      When he heard nothing more after a minute or two, he finally moved into the living room, only to stop again, his heartbeat accelerating, not with fear but exhilaration. Charlotte was sitting in one of the wing chairs between the front windows.