Joy shook her head and clung to Reese. “I want to stay with Weese.”
“You can’t, sweetie,” Faith was getting a little desperate. “You must come with me.”
“You can stay with me if you want, sprite,” Reese promised as Joy moved closer to Reese and wrapped an arm around his leg above the knee.
“No, she can’t!” Faith glared at him. “She’s my responsibility.”
“The contract you signed gave me the responsibility for Joy and for you,” Reese corrected her smugly, reminding her of her legal obligation. “You may return to Richmond if you want to, but you relinquish all rights to Joy for a year.”
“I would never do that!” Angry tears sparkled in Faith’s eyes.
His voice was firm. “If you return to Richmond, Joy will stay with me.”
“That’s not fair! You can’t?”
“I will.” He reached out to touch Faith’s cheek. She jerked away from his fingers. “You lose, Miss Collins.”
“It’s Mrs. Jordan.” Faith did not concede defeat graciously. She was angry at him for using Joy against her. And angry with Joy for betraying her. “I hate you.”
“Fine.” Reese’s expression was closed, unreadable. “Hate me all you want. After breakfast.” He took her elbow and guided her toward the door. He was furious at her for her stubborn refusal as well as her deception and for reminding him he’d married her by proxy. And he was furious with himself for ruthlessly blackmailing her into submission.
He hated using Joy against her, but he would do whatever was necessary to keep Faith Collins within his reach. He refused to acknowledge the painful expression on her face or the way her angry words ripped at his insides.
Chapter Fifteen
“All right, dammit, you win,” Reese exploded as the train slowly chugged its way out of Chicago.
He had endured yet another silent breakfast—the third?and that was enough.
Faith ignored him.
“Did you hear me?” Reese asked. “I said you win.”
“I wasn’t aware we were competing.” The chill in her voice was unmistakable.
“The hell you weren’t!” Reese got up from his desk and began to pace along the length of the carpet right in front of where Faith sat embroidering. “You’ve given me the silent treatment for the past two days. I’ve had enough of it. I’m tired of sitting outside in the cold half the night. And I’m tired of picking you up off the sofa and putting you to bed every night.”
He was also tired of waking up each morning throbbing with unrequited desire. Oh, she was more than willing to curl up to him in her sleep, to share his body heat and plant her firm little fanny against his naked arousal. But the minute she opened her eyes she turned frosty. If he so much as touched her while she was conscious, the air turned decidedly colder.
“I’m quite willing to sleep on the sofa,” Faith reminded him. “I didn’t ask to be carried to your bed each night. In fact, I would prefer to sleep alone.”
“Too bad,” Reese told her, “because that wasn’t part of the deal.” He pointed a finger in her direction. “You haven’t lived up to your end of the bargain. According to our contract, you owe me more time in the sack.”
Faith stood up. His finger missed touching her nose by a mere fraction of an inch. She stared at his finger, then looked him over from top to bottom, refusing to be intimidated. “And you, Mr. Jordan, owe me an apology.” She folded away her sewing and placed it in her basket.
“For what? Remember, you’re the one who lied. You told me you were a widow and Joy was your little girl.”
“I never said Joy was my child. You assumed?”
“So you lied by omission. What about your sainted husband, Champ?”
“Your assumption,” Faith pointed out. “I never actually told you I’d been married.”
“You’re wearing a wedding band.” He grabbed hold of her left hand, lifting it up in front of her face so she could see the thin gold band. His touch burned her flesh. Her body tingled with awareness.
Faith snatched her hand away.
“What was I supposed to think?” Reese asked.