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The Husband Lesson
Jeanie London
There's been a mistake!Karan Reece has no other explanation for this situation. Being assigned to work with her ex-husband, Dr. Charles Steinberg? She really must have offended someone to be forced to spend her days with him. The only good thing she can say is at least this arrangement has an expiration date.Funny thing, though, is that working together for a shared cause forces them to look at each other differently. She's learning a lot about him and his strengths. And those discoveries are causing her to see him in a new way…a very attractive, can't-wait-to-get-my-hands-on-you way. Seems that life with Charles is a lesson she's willing to study again!
He could feel her full-length against him
Karan’s every curve was familiar as Charles wrapped his arms around her and held her. And suddenly, he knew this was right. On some level, he’d known—had always known—that if he touched her, he could never convince himself he was content without her.
He’d known.
“Charles.” Her voice filtered through him, the activity around them fading away. For this moment there was only the two of them. The way she fit completely against him until he was aware of only her.
So right.
No history. No complications. Just them and a simple, unavoidable truth.
It didn’t matter whether they were married or divorced, whether he was avoiding her or she was demanding the impossible of him—their bodies knew each other.
He didn’t want to let go.
Dear Reader,
Life is a matter of perspective. Half-empty? Half-full? Karan thinks her luck is all bad. I think her luck is all good—she simply doesn’t realize that yet. When Karan is forced out of her comfortable world, she experiences an entirely new side of life. Of course, this blessing feels like a curse at first, but as she opens her eyes to the people around her and their circumstances and needs, she discovers purpose and meaning that redefines her own place in the world. She discovers ways she can help and the fulfillment that comes from giving.
This journey brings her back to the man she never stopped loving. Charles has already discovered the secret of helping others, but when he sees his ex-wife through his own evolving perspective, he finds a woman with the honesty and courage to face her issues. And he finds the courage to face his own so they can be together again.
Ordinary women. Extraordinary romance. That’s Harlequin Superromance! I hope you enjoy Karan and Charles’s love story. Let me know at www.jeanielondon.com.
Peace and blessings,
Jeanie London
The Husband Lesson
Jeanie London
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jeanie London writes romance because she believes in happily-ever-afters. Not the “love conquers all” kind, but the “we love each other so we can conquer anything” kind. It’s precisely why she loves Harlequin Superromance—stories about real women tackling life to find love. The kind of love she understands because she’s a real woman tackling life in sunny Florida with her own romance-hero husband, their two beautiful and talented daughters, a loving and slightly crazy extended family and a menagerie of sweet strays.
For all those who volunteer their time and talents to help others.
Real-life heroes and heroines.
May you all live happily ever after;-)
CONTENTS
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
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER ONE
“I DON’T HAVE A DRINKING problem, Your Honor. I have a problem drinking,” Karan Kowalski Steinberg-Reece explained, though it positively hurt to justify herself to this woman.
“I’m listening, Ms. Kowalski Steinberg-Reece.” The judge gazed down from her superior height on the courtroom bench. She emphasized the Ms. and dragged out each syllable as though implying the marriages hadn’t lasted as long as the names.
“I have low blood sugar.” That was all Karan would say. The toxicology results would speak for themselves.
Her attorney, a close friend of her second husband, had coached her at length about behavior during the sentencing since she and the judge had a history.
Honorable Jennifer Sharpe-Malone had once been known as Jenny, a wannabe cheerleader who hadn’t made the cut in four years at Ashokan High. Of course, Karan had made cheer captain all four years, so she’d been a judge at tryouts. It had been hard enough finding positions for her inner circle of friends.
Wannabe Jenny hadn’t been in her inner circle.
Just Karan’s luck that with all the judges in New York’s Catskill Mountains she’d wind up in court before this one.
“I’m well aware of your medical condition,” Wannabe Jenny informed her. “I’ve reviewed the deputy’s report. The deputy also stated you appeared more impaired than the results of the field sobriety test and the toxicology report revealed.”
More luck. Karan had gambled by cooperating with the deputies because she hadn’t wanted her license automatically revoked for refusing the test. One glass of champagne. One stupid glass and her blood alcohol content had been .05. A fraction of a percent lower and she wouldn’t be in this courtroom at all.
“State law doesn’t require my client to consent to a field sobriety test, Your Honor.” Her attorney seized the opportunity. “Only the chemical test, yet Ms. Kowalski Steinberg-Reece cooperated with law enforcement and consented to both.”
“Noted, Mr. James, and for the record I’m aware of the law.” Wannabe Jenny turned a peeved gaze to Karan. “Did it ever occur to you to call a taxi?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Keep things simple and straightforward,” her attorney had said. “Don’t offer explanations unless the judge asks.”
“Why didn’t you?” the judge asked.
“Leaving my car at the resort presented a problem.”
“Oh?”
“I didn’t have anyone to drive it home for me.”
“You were at the Inn at Laurel Lake, isn’t that right?” Wannabe Jenny glanced down at the documents before her.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“The Inn does have a parking garage. For a reasonable fee, they would have attended your vehicle until you were able to safely retrieve it.”
No question. But retrieving her car hadn’t exactly been the issue. Drawing attention to the fact that she hadn’t driven her car home was. But Wannabe Jenny wouldn’t want to hear that. She was already mentally filling in the blanks. Karan could see it all over her crab-apple expression.
“If you weren’t happy with the idea of taking a taxi back to the Inn to rescue your car the next day, you might have refrained from drinking.”
She made it sound as if Karan was a lush. “I didn’t drink per se, Your Honor. I only toasted the senator when he announced his bid for reelection.”
Her attorney shot her a withering glance. Entirely unnecessary. Karan knew the instant the words were out of her mouth that defending herself was a mistake and dropping the senator’s name a wasted effort.
Wannabe Jenny was out for blood.
“If one obligatory toast impaired you to this degree, then you might have considered waiting for your liver to process the alcohol before you left the party, Ms. Kowalski Steinberg-Reece. Or booking a room for the night since you were at a hotel.” Her tone dripped with a sarcasm that couldn’t possibly be considered professional courtroom behavior. “If that didn’t suit, you might have asked the senator to drive you home.”
It took every ounce of Karan’s considerable willpower to keep her mouth shut.
“Since you obviously don’t have any friends in this town who could have taken you.” Wannabe Jenny seemed to be talking simply to hear herself. “Whatever the excuse, your decision to drive while alcohol impaired wasn’t a good one. You should be thankful you didn’t hurt yourself or, God forbid, someone else. Tragedies happen all too often on the roads.”
A tingle started behind Karan’s left eye, a familiar tingle that signaled an oncoming headache. She was very grateful she hadn’t caused any accidents, in fact, but wasn’t about to admit that to Wannabe Jenny. Another explanation wouldn’t pass her lips.
The tables had turned in the decade and a half since high school, and Karan wasn’t the judge anymore. Wannabe Jenny would assess the offense during this hearing and consider the mitigating factors before sentencing. The long-ago past aside, Karan was an upstanding member of this community.
She hoped that would count for something.
A fine would be best-case scenario. But even if she was ordered to attend a substance-abuse education class, she would smile graciously, thank Wannabe Jenny and hope the class was available online like other traffic violation programs.
This situation was humiliating enough without sitting in a windowless room with drug addicts and real alcoholics for hours on end. She already had a mug shot on the sheriff’s website. One that anyone could pull up to view. Fortunately she’d been dressed for the senator’s event. If not for the identification number around her neck, she might have been posing for any head shot.
“Ms. Kowalski Steinberg-Reece,” Wannabe Jenny addressed Karan in that I’m-so-enjoying-the-upper-hand tone. “Are you aware that one-third of the traffic fatalities in New York State involve impaired or intoxicated drivers?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And that New York State has a STOP-DWI law?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Do you understand the difference between driving while ability is impaired and driving while intoxicated?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“What is it exactly?”
“DWAI is a traffic infraction. DWI is a criminal misdemeanor.”
The smile suddenly playing around Wannabe Jenny’s mouth, a mouth tinted with a shade of red that drew attention to the fine lines that could have benefitted from a good cosmetic surgeon, made Karan swallow hard.
“Very well then. Ms. Kowalski Steinberg-Reece, the State of New York finds you guilty of driving while ability impaired. It is the judgment of this court that your driving privileges be suspended for ninety days. You’ll pay a five-hundred dollar fine to the clerk when you are remanded into custody to serve fifteen days in the county jail.”
Karan’s best friend gasped behind her. Her attorney cursed under his breath, but she could only stare. Had Wannabe Jenny just said jail?
“Your Honor.” Her attorney didn’t bother to hide his annoyance. “That’s the maximum sentence allowable.”
“Again, I am aware of the law, Mr. James.”
“This is Ms. Kowalski Steinberg-Reece’s first offense.”
