After Hours

His eyes lit with pleasure—and the faintest hint of surprise that always twisted her heart. It was still hard for Rhys to believe at times that there was someone who loved him so completely, who put him before everything else in her life. “Let’s go out for dinner tonight,”

he suggested. “We can go to Rose’s for Chinese, if you like.” Stepping back, Angie smoothed her maternity sweater over her skirt. “Sounds wonderful. You know I can’t resist Rose’s twice-cooked pork. Oh, by the way, Graham called this afternoon.”

Rhys looked up from the mail he was flipping through. “Did he want anything special?” Angie laughed and shook her head. “Said he just wanted to see how I was doing. He swears he’s already bought the baby a pony. You don’t think he really has, do you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Let’s hope he’s teasing.” He looked back down at the mail, then extracted one plain white envelope. “A letter from your father.”

Angie reached for it. “I’ll read it when we get back from dinner.”

“And you’ll answer it?” he asked just a bit too casually.

“Yes, Rhys,” she replied patiently, “I’ll answer it. Haven’t I answered all his letters during the past year?” It had been Rhys who’d engineered the tentative reconciliation between Angie and Nolan, claiming that she would never be at peace until she’d resolved things with her father.

Nolan had been touchingly grateful to have the lines of communication open. It was the first time Angie could remember that she and her father had been completely honest with each other. There’d been a lot of hurts, years of emotional distance separating them, but she thought they could maintain an amicable relationship with a little compromise on each side. Nolan was particularly delighted with the news that he would have a grandchild soon.

“You know,” Rhys said, his expression wary, “your father will be released next year.”

“I know.”

“He’ll be needing a job—and it won’t be easy to find one with his record.” She tensed. “Rhys—”

He held out a hand, palm outward. “Now listen before you automatically say no. I thought maybe I could offer him a job with WakeTech. Even you have to admit that he’s good.”

“You wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t my father.”

“Probably not,” he admitted. “That relationship may get him the job if he wants it, but it won’t help him keep it. He’ll have to prove that he can handle it and be of benefit to my company. Any screwing around and he’s out on his butt. That will be made clear from the beginning. What do you think?”

“Rhys, are you sure? What will people say?”

He gave her The Look. “That doesn’t concern me. As long as WakeTech’s making money, no one has a right to say anything about how I choose to run it. Yours is the only opinion that matters. If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t offer.”

Conceding to her husband’s typical arrogance, Angie placed her father’s letter on a table to be opened later. “I’ll think about it,” she promised. “In a way, I’d like to know that he’ll have someplace to go, something to do that will keep him out of trouble. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I always know what I’m doing,” he replied, and this time his arrogance held a note of teasing.

“Yes, you do, don’t you?” She lifted a hand to his face, her smile fading. “You’re a very special man, Rhys Wakefield. I love you.”

“If I’m special in any way,” he returned huskily, “it’s because you love me.” He leaned over to kiss her, murmured, “I love you, Angelique,” and then straightened and cleared his throat. “Do you want to change or are you ready to eat?”

She answered promptly. “I’m starving.”

His loving smile taking her in from the top of her golden head to the tip of her toes, lingering lovingly on the precious bulge at her middle, Rhys slipped an arm around her shoulders and turned with her toward the door. “We can’t have that. Let’s go.”

Angie cast one last, affectionate look at their home as Rhys escorted her out, a protective hand poised to steady her if she should stumble. She was one lucky woman, she thought contentedly, and it had nothing to do with money or social position. Rhys’s love provided all the wealth she could ever desire.