Love Me Again by Wendy M. Burge Page A

edge in her voice more than her words that caught his attention.
    All weariness dropped away as the true meaning behind her declaration began to sink in. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he slowly stood up and stepped closer to her. He froze when she took a few stumbling steps back, frantic to keep the distance between them. The room seemed to tilt about him and then fade as he strained to look closer into her averted face. “What do you mean, you can't?”
    When she didn't answer, he took a long step forward and grabbed hold of her chin, forcing her to meet his accusing glare. Suddenly, he was terrified. The look in her eyes made him want to retch.
    Lips barely moving, he demanded, “Go on.”
    Christina closed her eyes, the darkness a void swirling around her. I can't do this! I can't!
    “Finish it, Christina.” Varek's deadened voice told her that he suspected her secret. He had to suspect, for there could only be one thing that could so thoroughly crush his hopes. She couldn't look at him, craven creature that she was, so she didn't open her eyes. But before she could speak, she felt herself grabbed roughly by the arms.
    Varek held a tight rein on the brutal fear seething within him, yet still he shook her with more force than he meant. “Open your eyes, damn you! Look me in the eye when you tell me this, Christina!” he snarled, his hot breath searing her cheek.
    Christina's eyes snapped open. Unfortunately the tears blinding her still couldn't hide the sight of his ravaged face. “I have a son, Varek. Robert and I have a son.” Her words were scarcely more than an anguished whisper.
    His hands tightened with a grip that she was sure would bruise her for life, just as the stark pain in his eyes would leave her heart torn. He was shaking his head in disbelief, the scalding blue of his eyes burning through a mist of tears.
    “No!” came his tortured moan. “How could you?”
    “I'm sorry,” she sobbed.
    “No!” he yelled as he almost threw her from him.
    Christina stumbled and watched in despair as he backed away from her, staring at her with a revulsion she would never have thought him capable of. Again, she felt the old crippling pain of all her failures to give him the child they had both wanted and needed so desperately. Weeping, she stretched out her hand toward him.
    With a foul obscenity, he pushed her hand away and turning his back on her, he ran from her cries.
* * * *
    Varek burst into his private rooms and, seeing his valet there, roared at the hapless man to get out. After a stupefied gape at his master, whom had always been the extreme of cool inflexibility, the man scurried out barely missing the door that was slammed on him.
    Varek stood there panting, his eyes shut tight against the spinning room.
    A son. She had a son!
    With a moan he clasped his head, his fingers tunneling deep into his hair. And he squeezed. Then he squeezed harder still, the pain shooting through his skull a plea that by sheer force alone he could crush this horrible truth from his mind.
    She had given Basingstoke their son, the son they had prayed for for ten years! She had blessed this stranger with their only salvation to stay together.
    Tears blinding him, Varek stumbled to his bed and fell upon it. And for the first time in six hellish years of lonely existence he could not stop the flood of tears that were wrenched from deep within his soul.
    A soul that still belonged to the woman who had betrayed him, not once, but twice.
* * * *
    Hours later, Christina heard a soft tap on the bedroom door. She ignored it, praying he would go away. When the panel swung inward she snapped her eyes shut and forced her body to relax, feigning slumber.
    She could feel Robert standing over her. Knowing her chest was moving too erratically, she held her breath. “I know you're awake, love. Am I welcome?” She turned away from him. Her cheeks were wet against the cool linen and her head felt heavy and painful. Squeezing her