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“Does a man need a reason for wanting to see his wife?”
“He does when that wife is engaged to marry another man,” Vicki replied.
Jamie froze. “He’s proposed?”
“Well, no, not yet…” Vicki admitted. “But it wouldn’t be fair to let you think that this relationship, or whatever it is that we shared for twenty-four hours, would ever amount to anything more than a night in a storm. You can’t possibly believe this so-called marriage of ours is real.”
“But it is. Otherwise you wouldn’t need a divorce to end it.”
Vicki exhaled her frustration in a long sigh. “Yes, it’s real legally. But certainly not emotionally. We’re two completely different people. We live completely different lifestyles. We have different goals. We enjoy different things.”
“We both enjoyed kissing each other.” Jamie’s green eyes sparkled.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” Vicki insisted. “I’m attracted to another man. I’m going to marry another man as soon as you—”
“Yeah, I know. As soon as I sign the papers. And—” Jamie held back a grin “—as soon as he asks you…”
Dear Reader,
This book is about mistakes. Not the little social blunders that make us blush for a moment and are soon forgotten. No, this story is about a really big whopper, the kind we can only reveal to our best friend because if the rest of the world knew, we would suffer immeasurable humiliation.
Maybe you’ve suffered through one or two lapses in judgment in your life. I know I have, and a couple of those mistakes have come back to haunt me. But maybe you were one of the lucky ones—maybe fate exercised its fickle mastery over your future and saved you from the transgressions of your youth.
In this book you will meet Vicki Sorenson and experience the one big blunder from her past. Will it ultimately ruin her life or will it turn out to be one of those rare sublime moments of serendipity?
I love to hear from readers. You can write to me at P.O. Box 550068, Fort Lauderdale, FL 33355, e-mail me at [email protected] or visit my Web site at www.cynthiathomason.com.
Sincerely,
Cynthia Thomason
The Husband She Never Knew
Cynthia Thomason
To my talented brother, Doug, and his charming wife, Sal.
From different continents—
like the hero and heroine of this book—
they prove that second-chance love can be glorious.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PROLOGUE
Orlando, Florida, 1990
VICKI SORENSON parked her ancient Ford Pinto a half block from the Orlando courthouse and stepped into the sweltering humidity. She plucked her blouse away from her damp back and pressed her lips together to blend the two quick swipes of Watermelon Ice she’d just applied in the rearview mirror. To make sure no lipstick had stuck on her teeth, she ran her tongue over them. A girl shouldn’t have lipstick on her teeth on her wedding day.
She walked toward the courthouse, her shoulder bag thumping against her hip with each step. Kenny Corcoran, the short-order cook from the Orange Blossom Diner where she worked waved from the top of the stairs. At least there was some measure of comfort in seeing the friend who’d masterminded this plan today.
And then she had her first glimpse of the man she’d come to meet. The man she would marry just as soon as they could sign their names to the license and get an appointment with a justice of the peace. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she reached the first step. This man, this Jamie Malone, seemed to fill the courthouse entrance. Energy fairly radiated from him, and kept him in perpetual motion, arching his spine, rubbing the back of his neck, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Kenny twirled his hand in a hurry-up gesture. “Come on, Vicki. We’ve got a few minutes. You two can get acquainted.”
Get acquainted. What a ridiculous thing to suggest to a bride and groom, but that was exactly what Vicki and Jamie needed to do if they were to have any hope of convincing immigration officials that this marriage was legitimate. She stopped two steps shy of Jamie Malone and resisted the urge to run. She had to remember why she was doing this, why she couldn’t back out now.
Kenny, a shadowy figure himself with connections to a secret society of Irish brethren, introduced her. Jamie Malone smiled and extended his hand. She grasped it as she climbed the two steps, whereupon she noticed that he topped her five foot six by several inches. His fingers were long and lean, like the rest of him. Grease stains darkened his nails, though he appeared clean and freshly shaven. He was a workingman, this Irish immigrant, who needed a green card to stay in the United States.
“Hello, miss,” he said. “It’s a fine thing you’re doin’ today. You’re probably savin’ my sorry ass from a Belfast jail, you know.”
She stared at Jamie a long moment and realized her ears were appraising him as much as her eyes were. His accented English, lilting and lyrical, flowed like the thick, damp waves of hair he’d tried to tame in a strip of leather at his nape.
“Don’t thank me, Mr. Malone,” she said. “I have my reasons for agreeing to this, and you know what they are.”
His smile stayed in place, despite her curt response. “Indeed I do, miss.” He patted the pocket of his plaid shirt. “I have the cash right here. But you’ll not begrudge me the chance to express my gratitude. I can’t imagine a thing like this would be easy for a girl.”
“No, it’s not,” she admitted. But at twenty-one Vicki found it hard to imagine that this one impulsive decision could affect the rest of her life. People got out of marriages all the time. Her biggest concern was seeing that wad of bills transferred from Jamie’s shirt to her pocketbook and not getting caught by the immigration officials. The rest would work itself out in time.
“Well, then, let’s go,” Kenny urged. “Jamie, hold her hand. And smile, both of you. It’s your wedding day.” He opened the courthouse door and let the soon-to-be newlyweds precede him inside.
CHAPTER ONE
Fort Lauderdale, 2003
VICTORIA SORENSON wasn’t about to let the fact that she was a married woman spoil this night’s celebration—not when she’d seen her husband of thirteen years for perhaps only ninety minutes in total. And not when she was anticipating becoming engaged to the man of her dreams in two weeks.
Louise Duncan leaned forward and looked at Vicki with unmasked skepticism. “Okay, Vic,” she said, “that sparkle in your eye is about to blind