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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
neurotic type.'
Logan's sudden laughter was almost reassuring.
'Don't I know it!' he said. 'I wasn't suggesting it for a minute. You're
not neurotic, Raina just stubborn and brave and
sometimes sometimes decidedly infuriating.' He paused, then
leaned over the table a little, his hand imprisoning hers. 'For God's
sake, stop fighting me, Raina,' he said. 'I know I've
handled things badly. But I want I want to work it out, and I
think you do, too, even if it's only for Daniel's sake. I've told you, you
can sleep alone if that's what you want. I swear I'll make no more
demands on you in that sphere ... not until you want it.'
Was he getting all he needed in that sphere, elsewhere? she wondered
bitterly. Why had he married her, and not Angela? He had said, not for
Perry's sake, or Danny's.
Was it because Angela gave him what he wanted without a wedding
ring, and .he had realised that Raina wouldn't? For a moment she felt
a swift jab of pity for Angela. She must be very much in love with
either Logan or his money. No woman likes to know she comes
second to someone else, she had said. That made Raina first, she
supposed. It didn't make her feel any better.
'Why did you marry me?' she asked baldly.
'Why?' Logan frowned, his eyes looking unfocused, and she realised
that he was deathly tired. 'For God's sake, woman!' he said, his voice
thick with exhaustion. 'I loved you and I'd been tortured long
enough. I didn't know it could get worse.'
CHAPTER EIGHT
RAINA sat dumb, feeling nothing but a kind of dull shock.
Logan was getting to his feet, almost stumbling, pushing at the table
to lever himself up. 'I'm going to bed,' he muttered.
He almost tripped over Danny in the doorway, his hand fleetingly
closing on the boy's shoulder.
'Uncle Logan -' Danny began, and Raina said gently, 'Come here,
Danny. Uncle Logan's very tired.'
A rubber tyre had worked its way off the metal wheel of the ear, and
she forced herself to concentrate on getting it back, and listen to
Danny's description of his 'roads'.
She tried to keep him quiet for the rest of the day, while Logan slept.
It wasn't easy, and when the rain finally cleared in the late afternoon
and a watery sun dried the ground in patches, she took Danny out for
a walk.
When they returned there was a note on the table from Logan. He had
gone back to the office, and might not be home until late.
Raina supposed he had things to catch up on, and there were probably
arrangements to be made, and decisions to do with the wrecked plane.
She read the note again, and its brief impersonality bothered her.
There was no greeting, no ending. Just 'Raina -' at the beginning, and
his name scrawled at the end.
I loved you, he had said, before he stumbled away to sleep off his
exhaustion. Had he meant that in the past tense? And he had said
something about 'torture'.
Pain twisted inside her, remembering the look on his face, the look of
a man who had taken enough, who was at the end of his tether. I'd
been tortured long enough, he had said. I didn't know it could get
worse.
He was tired, she told herself, he scarcely knew what he was saying.
But she knew that he had been speaking some stark truth, and it was a
truth that she had been trying to avoid for a long time.
It had been there when she married Perry, and Logan had kissed her.
It had been there when she told herself that she disliked him, that she
tolerated him in their home because he was Perry's friend, and when
she and Logan had both hidden their antagonism from Perry,
camouflaged their intense awareness of each other, Logan with a lazy
mockery and Raina with a cool indifference. Antagonism yes, there
had been that, because at first neither of them had wanted to
acknowledge the reason for the electricity that filled the air between
them. Raina told herself that her skin prickled when he came near her
because she couldn't stand his nearness, that her heightened
consciousness of her every movement when he was about was
because she knew how critically he watched her.
And she knew he did watch her, even though she seldom raised her
eyes to his. She knew that he watched her so much he must know her
body almost as intimately as Perry did as intimately as any man
could who had never touched her. And she thrust away the fierce,
prideful, malicious pleasure that rose in her at the thought. Thrust
down her knowledge of why he watched her, and why she liked it that
he did. It didn't matter that frequently his eyes were coldly critical, or
strangely resentful, sometimes even contemptuous or amused. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
