by Janet Dailey
His head was drawn back to study her. "Are you saying that you haven't gone back to Rhyder?" he asked warily.
As her lips parted to state unequivocally that she hadn't, Rhyder's tall shape entered her side vision and he was answering the question before she had the chance.
"That was under discussion when you arrived, Justin. Scotch and water." He offered a squat glass to Justin, cubes of ice glistening in the pale gold liquid. The glass in his other hand he extended to Gina, the glittering light in his eyes holding her gaze. "My wife's moods are as changeable as the ocean. Our reconciliation is barely twenty-four hours old and already it's in jeopardy."
His words hung suspended in the air, carrying the charged undercurrents of a high-voltage wire. Automatically Justin had accepted the drink offered him, but his limbs were frozen by Rhyder's deliberate intimation that they had shared at least one night's worth of reconciliation.
A red flush of shame and anger rose in Gina's cheeks. She couldn't deny the truth and Ryder knew it. Again she was subjected to the harsh sweep of condemnation in Justin's gaze, while Rhyder's expression remained aloof yet mockingly complacent. Her failure to deny Rhyder's implication spoke as loudly as if she had confirmed it.
The urge rose to slap the proffered drink from Rhyder's hand. The blaze of temper must have flashed in her eyes, because Rhyder's gaze narrowed faintly in warning. He grasped her hand and curled her resisting fingers around the cold glass.
"I don't want it," she refused.
"Drink it," Rhyder ordered. "It will help settle your nerves." He released the hand he had forced to hold the glass and slipped a proprietorial arm around her waist to turn her to the center of the living room. He seemed unconcerned that Gina might fling the contents of the glass in his face. Strangely, she found she couldn't do it, although she wanted to. "Have a seat, Justin," Rhyder invited as he led Gina to the sofa and forced her to sit beside him.
Hesitating, Justin lifted his glass, downing a large swallow of his drink as if his system needed the reviving jolt of liquor. Then he walked to an armchair near the sofa and sat down, his sullen gaze sweeping over both of them.
"Gina's things are here," Justin said in a tone that requested clarification of the statement.
"Only temporarily," Gina answered.
"Yes, they are here," Rhyder asserted, making it sound as if they would never leave, and Gina flashed him an angry look of denial.
Justin stared at the cubes floating in his glass. "You should have told me, Gina," he said grimly, "instead of letting me believe that you despised him."
"Ours has always been a stormy relationship," Rhyder responded to the comment when Gina failed to find her voice, "with equal portions of anger and passion in between the dormant periods. You've happened to see us together in our more angered moments, such as now."
"Gina had said you weren't married, that the two of you were divorced." Justin seemed prepared for Rhyder's answer.
"A slight exaggeration," he shrugged. "We'd been separated for several years, so it was only natural that she should think along those lines."
"And I still do!" Gina snapped, irritated by the way they were conversing as if she weren't around and neither of them had any particular interest in the subject.
Rhyder glanced down, his features set in uncompromising lines as he studied the mutinous glint in her eyes. "That's something we will discuss in private."
Words trembled on her lips to deny that being alone with him would make any difference to her decision, but she was afraid it would. She had to look away from the masculine features, so hard and angular, that she had come to love more deeply than the sixteen-year-old girl had ever loved. Tears burned the back of her eyes.
Rhyder's fingers closed around the hand holding her drink and lifted it to carry the glass to her lips. "Drink it," he ordered quietly, sensing how near her nerves were to total collapse.
For an instant Gina resisted the command, but the silent presence of his strength finally had her obey. The drink burned her throat, made her choke in its fire, but it allowed the true cause of her glistening tears to be disguised in the reaction. She could only hope that Rhyder hadn't guessed the reason behind her initial weakness and trembling.
"What about my property, Rhyder?" Justin broke the silence that had accompanied Gina's recovery. "Are you still interested in it?"
Gina could almost see Rhyder withdraw behind an emotionless mask that revealed nothing. She waited, feeling the tension build inside of her.
"That depends," he answered noncommittally.
"On what?" Justin persisted.
"On some other related matters." Rhyder explained nothing, but Gina knew exactly what he had left unsaid.
An encompassing hurt scraped over her nerve ends, leaving them raw and frayed. In her pain she decided to let Rhyder know she was aware of his plans to make use of her in his dealings with Justin.
"What he means, Justin—" the tenor of her voice was rigidly controlled "—is that it depends on me and what I decide. Isn't that correct, Rhyder?" She challenged him to deny it.
He studied her for a silent second in aloof contemplation, a dark eyebrow twisting slightly, but it was to Justin that he directed his words.
"Yes, Gina is right. My answer will depend on her decision," Rhyder agreed calmly.
She hadn't expected him to admit it. He had so carefully avoided giving any indication that he wanted more from Gina than to have her live with him as his wife. Perhaps Rhyder had finally realized that she wasn't so easily fooled.
Justin exhaled a heavy breath and drained the liquid in his glass, setting it on the table with an air of finality. He rose to his feet, his measured brown gaze seeking Rhyder.
"How long am I to wait for your answer?" he asked.
"Gina will give me her final answer tonight, one way or the other." Rhyder straightened, his gaze flicking briefly to Gina. "You will have mine in the morning."
Justin nodded his understanding and acceptance. "Since I have a personal as well as a business stake in the outcome, I'd better leave now. My staying here is only delaying the process," he concluded.
As he turned to leave, Gina realized that she was about to let her chance escape for a safe escort from Rhyder's apartment. She had made her decision. Rhyder knew what it was, but he hoped to change it. And Gina wasn't sure she could insulate her heart against his persuasions.
Hurriedly she rose from the sofa, setting her glass on a table, and took a step after Justin. His name became lodged in her throat as Rhyder's hands gripped' the soft flesh of her arms and drew her shoulders back to his chest.
"Stay." The one word was quietly spoken near her ear, his warm breath gently stirring her hair.
Gina's resolve weakened in compliance with his command. She let Rhyder hold her there as Justin paused by the door to glance back. The dull look in his brown eyes seemed to concede the victory to Rhyder. Momentarily caught in the spell of his touch, Gina couldn't deny it.
When the door closed, his hands slid down to her forearms, curling them across the front of her waist as he curved her more fully against him. His mouth sought the sensitive nape of her neck, sending quivers of desire over her skin. His caress had the power to seduce her will, and she strained her neck away, pushing herself free.
"Why did you do it?" she demanded breathlessly, her hands pressed against her rapidly fluttering stomach.
"Do what?" Rhyder asked her, seeking to draw her into his embrace again.
But Gina pivoted away, maintaining a breathing distance as she faced him. Her green eyes were rounded and warily bright through the sweeping curl of her lashes.
"Why did you invite Justin in? Why did you have to involve him directly in this?" She bombarded him with questions to keep him at a distance, the protective words rushing from her lips. "And why the pose of civility, pretending a courtesy you know you didn't feel?"
"What would you have preferred?" he asked curtly. "Should we have brawled? Is that what you wanted? Did you
want to see us fight over you?"
"No, of course not!" Gina retorted, knowing he had deliberately twisted her questions.
"Good!" Rhyder snapped. "Because it would have been an exercise in futility. The woman always ends up choosing who she wants regardless of who wins or loses. To fight over you would have been pointless, because it wouldn't have influenced your choice."
"You are right," Gina conceded tightly. "And you know my decision. You aren't going to change my mind. You're wasting your time trying."
"Why, Gina?" It was Rhyder who demanded answers, towering before her, intimidating her with the force of his personality. "Why are you telling me no after coming to me so willingly last night?"
She searched wildly for an answer. "Did it ever occur to you that I might be exorcising a ghost of nine years? Ridding myself of the memory of a sixteen-year-old's infatuation?"
"It wasn't a memory I held in my arms." Rhyder dismissed the suggestion swiftly.
"Maybe after sleeping with you, I discovered I preferred Justin," Gina challenged desperately.
Although Rhyder didn't move, he seemed to loom nearer, his fury rising over her like a tidal wave. Gina felt the drowning force of its undertow. A muscle leaped uncontrollably in his jaw. The atmosphere was electrified as Rhyder controlled his anger with an effort.
"If I believed you meant that—" his voice vibrated deep in his throat, harsh and raw "—I think I'd…"
He didn't finish the rest. He didn't need to. Gina could almost feel his strangling fingers around her neck. Shivering, she knew she had provoked him without thought of the consequences.
"Does it matter whether something happened last night or nine years ago?" she asked quietly. "It still doesn't change the fact that I want to be free of you."
"Why?" Rhyder demanded again.
"Because—" her dark head moved despairingly to the side "—I just don't want to spend the rest of my life with you." The heartbreak would be unendurable, with the knowledge that he didn't love her and was only using her. "So please, just let me go."
An angered frustration swept across Rhyder's features as he tried to find a fallacy in her words and failed. He breathed in deeply, his unwillingness to accept her statement as obvious as his inability to argue against it.
"Is that your final word?" he questioned at last, low and impatient.
"Yes." Gina held her breath. Praying that her torment might be at an end.
Raking fingers through the ebony thickness of his hair, Rhyder pivoted away. "Why? Why? Why?" Drawn through clenched teeth, the words weren't directed at Gina. They were an angered demand to the fates.
There was a knock at the door and Gina jumped convulsively at the sound. Her gaze flew to Rhyder, who had reacted with the same degree of surprise. She didn't want another interruption. He was about to let her go. She sensed that, and didn't want the moment prolonged. Time was working against her. Rhyder's gaze sliced to her with the fine edge of cutting steel.
Another knock, more impatient than the first, ripped his pinning gaze from her. Swearing beneath his breath, Rhyder's long strides carried him toward the door. Gina's hands were twisted so tightly together there was hardly any circulation flowing through her fingers.
He swung the door open, controlled violence in his movement. His arm was braced against the door frame to block the entrance. Gina knew that if it was Justin who had returned, he would not gain admittance this time.
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Chapter Ten
WITH ONE GLANCE at the person in the hall, Rhyder flung the door open and walked away. His action stunned Gina until she saw an equally surprised Pete following in his wake.
"If you can't give me a 'hello,' how about offering me a drink?" Pete said with a short, bewildered laugh. Then he noticed Gina and smiled. "I didn't think you'd be here—which just shows that a celebration is definitely in order."
"Save it, Pete," Rhyder snapped as he walked to the bar.
"W-what?" Pete cocked his sandy head, only that instant picking up the electrical tension crackling around Rhyder.
"There's nothing to celebrate." Rhyder's lips twisted with bitter cynicism as he added, "Unless you want to toast the fact that you were right."
"You mean—" Pete's gaze swerved to Gina, widening as he observed the pinched lines of strain in her pale face "—that…" He hesitated, reluctant to say the obvious.
"—Gina has said no," Rhyder finished it, his voice taut and low.
Already in the living room, Pete virtually dropped into the armchair recently vacated by Justin. There was no elation at being right as a grimly resigned Pete reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
"And I just spent the whole day running all over half the state of Maine for nothing," he sighed, and tossed the papers on the table a few feet in front of the chair.
Rhyder walked from the bar and handed him the drink he had mixed, glancing briefly at the papers. "Then you got it?" he commented.
"Yes," Pete nodded glumly. "All signed, sealed and legal."
Gina's gaze darted from one to the other, faintly puzzled by their exchange. Rhyder flicked a look at her, the raking glance taking in the questing light in her green eyes. He moved to the sofa.
"You might as well sit down, Gina," he said crisply.
Numbly she moved to a twin chair of Pete's. "What are you talking about?"
Pete met her eyes reluctantly. "I had the annulment ruling officially voided. Your marriage to Rhyder legally exists on a technicality. I thought the two of you had patched things up," he explained, implying that he knew about last night.
"You were mistaken." Gina lowered her gaze, feeling the heat warming her cheeks.
"It's a pity." Pete sipped absently at his drink. "Rhyder was so positive."
"I changed my mind," she muttered. "It's my prerogative."
"Do you mind if I ask why?" The lenses of his glasses intensified the gentle light in Pete's eyes when he glanced at her.
Rhyder answered the question with harsh flatness. "Gina can't stand the thought of living with me for the rest of her life."
"That's certainly a valid reason. You wouldn't be my choice, either." Pete tried to make a joke of it, but nobody laughed.
Leaning forward on the sofa cushion, Rhyder leaned his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. He stared at them, tiredness etched in the curve of his broad shoulders and the slightly bowed neck.
"What's the next move, Pete?" he asked dispiritedly.
His tone suggested that he didn't really care and the question was asked because the world wouldn't stop to let him off. Gina knew the feeling. She felt it more intensely than Rhyder did because she loved him. He was only reacting to the fact that his plans were beyond salvage.
"Well—" Pete breathed in deeply, held it for a split second as he glanced hesitantly at Gina, and let it out "—I don't suppose you would agree to a few months' trial period to see if the two of you could make the marriage work?"
"No!" Gina rejected the idea almost violently, then added on a more controlled note, "All I want is for Rhyder to let me go and to send my things back to my apartment."
"Your things?" A sandy eyebrow lifted above the frames of Pete's glasses.
"Yes," she nodded. "Rhyder canceled the lease on my apartment today and had everything moved here." But she couldn't summon her former anger at Rhyder's arrogant manipulations.
"Good lord!" Pete breathed, and sat back in his chair staring at Rhyder, amazed at his audacity. "You really did anticipate her decision, didn't you?"
"I thought I had cause," Rhyder muttered, rising impatiently to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. "I should have guessed that she'd turned into a permissive little witch hopping in and out of—"
"That's not true!" Gina protested angrily. "I've never—"
"Now, now," Pete interrupted, his hands spread to halt her indignant rush. "This situation isn't going to be helped if the two of you start
shouting and calling each other names."
Rigidly Rhyder turned his back to her, moving to the far side of the room and the bar. His wounding words still stung, but Gina pressed her lips together.
Glancing from one to the other, Pete smiled briefly in satisfaction. "Good. Now let's start tackling this situation one step at a time. The immediate problem is your apartment, Gina. I'll go over first thing tomorrow morning and get the lease straightened out. As soon as it is, I'll have your belongings moved back. In the meantime, you'll have to get a motel room for the night. Agreed?"
"Yes," she nodded, achingly aware of Rhyder slowly pacing the confines of the living room.
"The next order of business would be the separation papers." Pete took a small notebook and pen from an inside pocket of his jacket. His head was bent as he started to make notes. He flicked a quick, confirming look at Gina over the top frame of his glasses. "I presume you will be the one filing the divorce papers?"
Her heart constricted as she nodded again. "Yes."
"No!" Rhyder barked stopping near her chair.
"On what grounds?" Pete continued.
"I don't know." Gina shook her head, her pulse racing in the crackling atmosphere as she tried to ignore Rhyder. "Incompatibility, I suppose," she shrugged.
"You are not filing for a divorce," Rhyder stated in a threatening tone.
His nearness seemed to almost crush her. In agitation, Gina rose to her feet. Seated, she had found his height advantage had been too overpowering. Her knees trembled with traitorous weakness as she stood before him, trying to summon a defensive anger.
"Then you file for the divorce!" she retorted. "It doesn't matter to me."
"I'm not giving you a divorce!" he snapped.
Frozen by his declaration, Gina couldn't elude the hands that reached out to grip her shoulders punishingly. His rugged features were carved in unyielding lines, the piercing blue of his gaze impaling her.
"You're not getting rid of me as easily as you did nine years ago." His warning was a promise. "There will be no divorce."