Fearless by Diana Palmer

unfortunate accident, which we will never permit to happen again.”
    “Of course,” she assured him.
    He paused at the door. “Why would you not want children?”
    Because of my health, she should have told him. Her life would be at risk from a pregnancy. Her career, too, was a sticking point—how could she raise a child and do justice to either her job or her child? But he didn’t know about her career. Or her health—except for the limp. She took the coward’s way out. “I have…health problems, as you may have noticed already,” she reminded him quietly. “Besides, I’m still relatively young to be thinking about family life.”
    The pain and guilt her remarks kindled in him were shockingly brutal. He could have cursed aloud. He’d forgotten about her hip. He’d forgotten everything in the joy of having her.
    “Forgive me,” he said quietly. “I did not think.”
    She closed her eyes. “Nor did I.”
    “For what it’s worth,” he said, his accent noticeably thicker, “I am sorry.”
    “Not nearly as sorry as I am,” she replied matter-of-factly, and with a bite in her tone.
    The tension in the room was as thick as cigar smoke. He opened the door with deliberate movements and closed it behind him with a violent snap.
    Glory let out the breath she’d been holding. It had been the most traumatic experience of her recent life, and not at all unpleasant. But she was in disguise. He didn’t know the real Glory, and she had doubts that he’d want her at all once he did. Once he knew who she really was, the barrier between them would grow by leaps and bounds. He was a laborer. She was an educated professional. Their cultures were different, their religions were different. They were worlds apart. She couldn’t give up her career that she’d worked so hard for just to eek out an existence with a poor immigrant. She wasn’t even sure that he wasn’t involved in some criminal pursuit. The whole situation was impossible.
    She’d let her guard down and actively participated in her own seduction. Now here she was, alone and in danger and possibly pregnant. What in the world would she do if she’d conceived? He wanted a child. She didn’t; not this way, with secrets separating them. He was angry that she didn’t want his child. She couldn’t tell him the real reason. She was living a lie, to save her life. She couldn’t tell him that, either.
    The tears rolled down Glory’s cheek in a flood. He’d left, she thought miserably, just in time. She wouldn’t have wanted to disgrace herself by crying in front of him. She couldn’t understand her own easy submission to him. Surely her past should have kept her out of reach of such an experienced man, kept her from giving in to someone who was almost a stranger. Her life was becoming far too complicated. She wished she’d never let Marquez talk her into this masquerade.
     
    M ONDAY, AFTER A QUIET and lonely Sunday during which Rodrigo wasn’t even seen, she rode into town with Consuelo to get groceries. As they got out of the farm’s pickup truck, Marquez, in civilian clothes, drove up in another truck and pulled in beside them. He got out, pocketing his keys and starting toward the store when he saw Glory. He pretended surprise—a good act, because he’d followed them here hoping to get a word alone with her.
    “Well, if it isn’t Gloryanne! How are you?” he called to Glory with a grin. “Fancy seeing you here! It’s been years, hasn’t it?”
    Glory flushed, but hid her face from Consuelo. “Yes, it has,” she agreed. “I haven’t seen you since we were in high school together!” She composed herself and glanced at Consuelo. “I’ll be along in a minute,” she said with a smile. “I just want to catch up on Rick’s life story.”
    “Go right ahead,” Consuelo replied. She was giving Marquez an odd look. Before Glory could puzzle it out, the older woman was heading for the store.
    The smile was gone immediately from both faces.