“Complex.” He made a rough sound and picked up the whiskey he’d poured himself. “I’ve had a hell of a night,” he muttered. “I need some sleep before I try to cope with all this.”

“That’s exactly what Mina said,” Vic agreed.

He drew in a long breath. “She went on commando missions.” His heart stopped. He looked at Vic. “Recently?” he asked.

Vic moved restlessly. “She’s still taking quinine tablets to prevent malaria. She went with the group to Nicaragua and helped rescue a kidnapped child.”

“Oh my God,” Cort burst out. “She’s pregnant!”

“Yes, but she didn’t know it at the time. I took her to Dr. Truett and he said she’s fine. So is the baby.”

“Anything could have happened to her,” Cort exclaimed. “I thought she wanted to have kids and raise them. I didn’t know that she came with a whole damned career!”

“Said the man who’s never home,” Vic murmured half under his breath.

Cort glared at him.

“Well, it’s true,” Vic returned. “You could have delegated that union mess, and you know it, Cort.”

The other man shifted his feet and sipped his drink.

“Marriage isn’t as easy as it looks,” Vic continued. “Look at me. I’ve failed at it miserably. At least, until now. I think I have a fighting chance at saving my marriage.” He pursed his lips. “You might try to save yours. I believe Mina’s packing right now to go back to Wyoming.”

Cort’s heart jumped. But just for a few seconds, he thought how it would be if she did go home. He’d be free again, to pursue beautiful women, to live the life of a playboy. Did he want that, truly?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MINA WAS MISERABLE. Cort had looked at her as if he despised her. She should have tried to be honest with him. She’d brought this on herself. She knew it, but it didn’t help. Cort was furious, and he was right to be. She should have told him at the beginning who she really was, not have him find it out in a traumatic way, like he had tonight.

She put the last few clothes in her suitcase and closed it gently. Well, she had a ranch to go back to, and she had the sweet baby lying snug in her womb. Many women had much less.

She sat down in her wing chair and pulled out her cell phone while she waited for the house to be quiet so that she could call a cab to take her to the airport. She’d have to get a ticket. She was on her way to a website to buy one when she chanced on an item in a digital newspaper she read.

Her eyes flamed. It was a photograph of her brand-new husband with his arm around a drop-dead gorgeous brunette at some cocktail party. He was nursing what looked like whiskey in a squat glass, and his smile was as brilliant as if he’d won the Nobel prize. She almost threw the phone across the room. Her husband! She’d convinced Sandra to forgive her own philandering husband, only to turn around and realize that she was in the same boat! And she thought, forgive, hell!