me."
"We still have a few more things to get settled." The steel grip on her upper arm brooked no argument as he escorted her upstairs.
Mrs. Rogers took in Valerie's pale, strained face as the couple entered the apartment. "He's asleep." She smiled warmly, picking up the rolls of fluffy yellow yarn and her silver crochet hook. "I'll be saying good night." She let herself out quietly.
"Would you like some coffee?" Valerie asked tautly.
"No. Just sit down and listen like a good little girl."
She perched on the edge of the chair farthest away from Sean. The corners of his mouth quirked in amusement as he saw her reluctance to be near him. Sean sat on the couch, his hands clasped loosely between his legs.
"I might as well just come to the point," he said crisply. "What you did—not telling me about Michael—is inexcusable. I won't tell you my exact feelings about it because I don't like to use that kind of language to a woman. But you're going to make up for it—in spades."
"Make up?" Her voice was faint.
"I want my son." His announcement sent icy flashes through her body. "But as I know you'd try to fight me every step of the way, you'll have to come, too." Sean's dark gaze settled on her shocked features. "I have a house outside of town, and there's plenty of room there for him to run around and play and do whatever else little boys do."
"And if I don't consent to your so-called idea?"
Sean's eyes traveled around the small living room, noting the slightly shabby furniture. Valerie clenched her hands under his appraisal. It was obvious from the well-tailored clothes and gold watch he wore that he had few monetary problems.
"If not, then I'll take you to court to get custody of him," he stated coldly.
"He's just a little boy, not an inanimate object. He has feelings, too. I can't just let him go with you. He doesn't know who you are!"
"That's your fault, not mine!" he informed her tersely. "That's why you have to come along, too."
"I have a job!" she protested. "Besides, you don't want me. You only want Michael." Her words ended in a faint whisper that held a touch of wistfulness. Valerie kept her eyes on her clenched hands to avoid seeing the cold truth visible on Sean's face. "It wouldn't work out," she said flatly.
"Then what about a compromise?" he suggested. "A six-month trial. After that, if you want your divorce you can have it, and you'll be well provided for. But I want custody of Michael. Or you can stay with Michael and play the role of a well-adjusted wife without any complaints."
"To protect you from adoring females with big ideas?" Her mouth twisted bitterly.
"Val, I'll have Michael one way or the other." His eyes narrowed to slits. "So what is your answer?"
"I-I'll have to think it over." She stumbled over her words as she rubbed her forehead agitatedly.
"You think it over. You just do that." Sean rose to his feet with the lithe grace of a jungle cat. "And by next weekend be prepared to move into my house." He walked toward the door.
His highhanded tactics made Valerie bristle with anger. Her head rose to face the man she now considered her enemy. Her green eyes narrowed to emerald slits as she also rose to her feet and walked toward the door.
"Tell me, Sean—" her tone was sarcastic—"do you still wear your wedding band so that your girlfriends can't get serious? It must be a wonderful form of protection. You know what I mean—'I'm sorry darling, but I have a wife already.'" She kept on ignoring the danger signs emanating from his rigid body.
"Of course, you didn't let yours stop Saunders from climbing into your bed," he sneered.
Unthinking, Valerie's hand shot out, slapping Sean across the face. For an electric moment she stared horrified at the red marks her fingers had left against the tanned skin of his cheek. With a harsh exclamation he roughly pulled her against him, his lips savagely bruising her soft mouth.
"No!" she gasped as his surging mouth punished hers.
"This is exactly
"We still have a few more things to get settled." The steel grip on her upper arm brooked no argument as he escorted her upstairs.
Mrs. Rogers took in Valerie's pale, strained face as the couple entered the apartment. "He's asleep." She smiled warmly, picking up the rolls of fluffy yellow yarn and her silver crochet hook. "I'll be saying good night." She let herself out quietly.
"Would you like some coffee?" Valerie asked tautly.
"No. Just sit down and listen like a good little girl."
She perched on the edge of the chair farthest away from Sean. The corners of his mouth quirked in amusement as he saw her reluctance to be near him. Sean sat on the couch, his hands clasped loosely between his legs.
"I might as well just come to the point," he said crisply. "What you did—not telling me about Michael—is inexcusable. I won't tell you my exact feelings about it because I don't like to use that kind of language to a woman. But you're going to make up for it—in spades."
"Make up?" Her voice was faint.
"I want my son." His announcement sent icy flashes through her body. "But as I know you'd try to fight me every step of the way, you'll have to come, too." Sean's dark gaze settled on her shocked features. "I have a house outside of town, and there's plenty of room there for him to run around and play and do whatever else little boys do."
"And if I don't consent to your so-called idea?"
Sean's eyes traveled around the small living room, noting the slightly shabby furniture. Valerie clenched her hands under his appraisal. It was obvious from the well-tailored clothes and gold watch he wore that he had few monetary problems.
"If not, then I'll take you to court to get custody of him," he stated coldly.
"He's just a little boy, not an inanimate object. He has feelings, too. I can't just let him go with you. He doesn't know who you are!"
"That's your fault, not mine!" he informed her tersely. "That's why you have to come along, too."
"I have a job!" she protested. "Besides, you don't want me. You only want Michael." Her words ended in a faint whisper that held a touch of wistfulness. Valerie kept her eyes on her clenched hands to avoid seeing the cold truth visible on Sean's face. "It wouldn't work out," she said flatly.
"Then what about a compromise?" he suggested. "A six-month trial. After that, if you want your divorce you can have it, and you'll be well provided for. But I want custody of Michael. Or you can stay with Michael and play the role of a well-adjusted wife without any complaints."
"To protect you from adoring females with big ideas?" Her mouth twisted bitterly.
"Val, I'll have Michael one way or the other." His eyes narrowed to slits. "So what is your answer?"
"I-I'll have to think it over." She stumbled over her words as she rubbed her forehead agitatedly.
"You think it over. You just do that." Sean rose to his feet with the lithe grace of a jungle cat. "And by next weekend be prepared to move into my house." He walked toward the door.
His highhanded tactics made Valerie bristle with anger. Her head rose to face the man she now considered her enemy. Her green eyes narrowed to emerald slits as she also rose to her feet and walked toward the door.
"Tell me, Sean—" her tone was sarcastic—"do you still wear your wedding band so that your girlfriends can't get serious? It must be a wonderful form of protection. You know what I mean—'I'm sorry darling, but I have a wife already.'" She kept on ignoring the danger signs emanating from his rigid body.
"Of course, you didn't let yours stop Saunders from climbing into your bed," he sneered.
Unthinking, Valerie's hand shot out, slapping Sean across the face. For an electric moment she stared horrified at the red marks her fingers had left against the tanned skin of his cheek. With a harsh exclamation he roughly pulled her against him, his lips savagely bruising her soft mouth.
"No!" she gasped as his surging mouth punished hers.
"This is exactly
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