Reclaiming His Pregnant Widow by Tessa Radley Page A

have the child they’d planned, but there would be no family…
    Yet Clea had no regrets.
    Making the decision to have the baby had filled the dark void in the days after she’d been forced to accept that Brand really was dead…or go mad. The memory of that conversation on their wedding day had become a lifeline, giving her a glimpse of a future where she would not be alone. She gazed at the ring. Yellow for the children they would have. Pursuing that dream was what had kept her sane.
    For the life of her, Clea couldn’t remember the to-dolist that only minutes ago had rumbled about in her head. She was overwhelmed by the aching loss of regret.
    So much for hoping that today would bring perspective. So much for her intention of talking to Brand about the baby. It was proving to be impossible…
    He’d changed too much.
    Setting her wedding ring down on the cold granite slab, Clea picked a white towel off the waiting pile and wiped her damp hands before tossing the towel in a basket. Then she paused and critically inspected her reflection in the mirror. Green eyes set in a face framed by a riot of dark curls stared back at her. Nothing about her had changed. She looked the same as she had yesterday…last month…even last year. Certainly she didn’t look nineteen weeks’ pregnant.
    Maybe a little slimmer, she finally admitted, and the sadness in her eyes hadn’t been there four years ago.
    Yet Brand had changed. While he’d always been self-contained and more than a little enigmatic, she’d never doubted that he loved her. But now he wasn’t a little distant—he was on another planet. Whatever he’d have her believe, finding her pregnant could not possibly have been responsible for such a metamorphosis.
    He no longer trusted her. No longer loved her. He believed she’d betrayed him and slept with Harry. If she’d—
    Clea pulled herself up short.
    No. She wasn’t going to fall into the trap of blaming herself. This was not about her…or her pregnancy.
    For reasons of his own, Brand had chosen to leave, to go to Athens without her four years ago, and then traveled on to Baghdad without letting her know, in the company of a woman with whom he’d once shared an intimate relationship.
    His was not the behavior of a man committed to his marriage. It was time to face the fact that their marriage had been crumbling before he’d vanished—it was not the temple of strength built on the bedrock of love and trust that she’d believed.
    â€œYou did not drive Brand away,” she told the Clea in the mirror. “So don’t you dare blame yourself.”
    If she had to tell herself that ten times a day, a hundred times a day, she would do it. As long as it took for her to believe it. It had been Brand’s choice to abandon her…and their marriage.
    She glanced down to where the ring lay, the strands of gold warming the chill of the black granite. Already she missed the comfort of it on her finger.
    Clea straightened her spine. Until Brand told her what had gone wrong, what had caused him to walk away from what they’d shared, she was not wearing his ring again.

Five
    T o Clea’s immense relief, by the time she’d regained her composure sufficiently to emerge from the ladies’ room, Brand had vacated her office. It took only a few minutes to call the bank and make an appointment for them with the manager the following day. But how to contact Brand to let him know?
    Clea set the phone down and rose quickly to her feet. If she could catch him before he left the building…
    She found him in the high-vaulted, airy west gallery, where he was examining the most valuable acquisition the museum had made since he’d vanished.
    Summer sun spilled in through large, arched windows, illuminating Brand where he stood with his back to her, feet planted hip-width apart. It was impossible not to admire the way his jeans