FOR A SECOND, Sam considered pulling away from her husband and running as far and fast as she possibly could, but reason got the better of her. Whatever this was, the odds were she couldn’t outrun it, no matter how hard she tried.
Anger rolled off Duncan in waves. Stephenson’s confusion was almost palpable. Only Lana seemed in control of the situation. A fact that terrified Sam. What on earth could she possibly want with Duncan at this late date? It was obvious she wasn’t looking for a reconciliation. Not if you could judge by the golfball-size diamond on her left ring finger. Still, the look of shock on both her face and Stephenson’s when they heard about Duncan’s marriage was unmistakable. Why would they care?
She felt almost dizzy with apprehension by the time they all found seats in the library.
Duncan was the first to speak. “What do you want, Lana?”
His ex-wife neatly crossed her left leg over her right then leaned forward. It wasn’t hard to see why she was a movie star in Europe. She had that exotic, almost catlike allure that would translate beautifully on screen. Tiny, perfectly sculpted features, small bones, enormous brown eyes that dominated her face. A searing image of Lana’s perfect little body moving sensuously atop Duncan’s caused Sam to look away so no one noticed the angry red flush staining her face.
“This is a difficult topic to pursue, Duncan,” Lana said, her gaze resting on Sam.
“Pursue it,” Duncan said. He wasn’t even pretending to play the gracious host. “We’re having a party, Lana. We’d like to return to it.”
Sam stood up, smoothing the skirt of her sundress. “Why don’t I go out and make sure everyone’s having a good time?” she offered.
Lana smiled at her. “That’s a wonderful idea, dear.”
“Sit down, Samantha.” Duncan sounded colder than she’d ever heard him. “I want you here.”
Sam lowered her voice as she turned to Duncan. “But I don’t want to be here.”
“Sit down,” he repeated. “You’re my wife. Whatever she has to say, she can say in front of you.”
“You’re making this much more difficult than it has to be, Duncan,” said Lana, her huge brown eyes brimming with tears. “What I have to say might be a trifle upsetting to your new wife.”
“What time is it?” Duncan asked Stephenson.
Stephenson checked his Rolex. “Half past six.”
“You have three minutes Lana,” Duncan said. “Start talking.”
Lana looked so upset that Sam almost felt sorry for her. The woman turned to Stephenson, a pleading expression in her eyes, but the gentleman apparently had no help to offer. It was clear to Sam that Lana wanted her to leave but she didn’t dare risk Duncan’s wrath by trying a second time.
Never underestimate the recuperative powers of an actress. Lana closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them again, Sam would have sworn another woman had taken her place. This woman was poised, secure and self-confident. Not even the shadow of a pleading expression lingered in her eyes.
“Bryce and I went to get our marriage license yesterday,” she said in a lilting, matter-of-fact voice.
Duncan shot the red-haired man a look of pity that embarrassed Sam. It had been years since he and Lana had divorced. They hadn’t been married all that long when she left, and they’d never had children. The ties between them had been of the minor kind, easily cut with a simple divorce.
“That’s hardly a new experience for you, Lana,” he said, referring to her other failed attempts at matrimony.
“Actually, Duncan, it was a very new experience for me. This time they refused to grant me one.”
Duncan looked briefly amused. “Maybe they’re trying to tell you something.”
“They did tell me something, Duncan,” Lana said, her eyes flashing. “They said I’m still married to you.”
Chapter 14
Duncan leaped to his feet. “That’s a lie.”
“Exactly what I said,” Lana responded, “but they had proof.”
Sam watched, shell-shocked, as the dark-haired woman removed an envelope from her purse and handed it to Duncan.
“Go ahead,” Lana said. “Read it. Then we’ll talk.”
Sam rose from her chair and moved toward Duncan as he opened the envelope, but he barely seemed to register her presence. “Duncan,” she said. “What does it say?”
He didn’t answer. He folded the letter and tossed it in Lana’s direction. “You’ve been married two times since our divorce,” he said, “and this is the first you’ve heard of this?”
Lana’s smile was faintly condescending. “I thought I was married twice since our divorce. Apparently I was wrong.”
“This is unacceptable,” Duncan said.
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Lana.
“I can’t say I’m pleased with the situation,” Bryce Stephenson piped up.
Sam stepped forward. “And I—” That was the last thing she remembered.
SAM OPENED her eyes to find Duncan’s ex-wife—no, make that his current wife—peering at her.
“I fainted?” Sam asked, struggling to sit up.
Lana nodded. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
Sam placed a hand against her belly. “Yes, I am.”
“How far along?”
Sam opted for vague truthfulness. “Not too terribly far.”
“That explains a good deal,” Lana said as Sam brushed her hair from her face. “Our Duncan did seem overly solicitous.”
Sam bristled at the implication that only pregnancy could bring forth his solicitude. “Duncan is a kind man. He’d be concerned whether or not I was pregnant”
“You’re loyal,” Lana observed. “That’s exactly what he likes. You two should get on well together.”
Sam swung her feet to the floor. “Where is he?”
“Off to fetch you some water, I would think. Or the best medical care in Scotland.” Lana’s smile was amused. “I must say that was quite a display of husbandly concern he put on for us. He had you in his arms before you hit the floor, then set you down on the sofa like you were made of porcelain. That’s the way he treated me when I was pregnant with his child.”
Bile rose to Sam’s throat, and for a moment she feared she would be sick right there in the library. “You and Duncan have a child?”
Lana shook her
