Bourbon Street Blues by Maureen Child

unreasonable.” She straightened her skirt, then hiked the hem just a bit higher on her thighs.
    “Frannie, we didn’t even share a bed after the first six months of our marriage.”
    “We could now.”
    “And what makes now so different?”
    “I’ve changed.”
    “Not so I’ve noticed.”
    “Well, if you’re only going to be insulting.”
    “I’m not trying to insult you,” he said, tired now by this whole pointless discussion. “I’m just saying it’s done. Let it go.”
    “I can’t.” Temper skittered across her eyes. “I won’t.”
    She reached for him, cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand and brought his face to hers. Slanting her mouth over his, she kissed him, putting everything she had into it.
    Simple shock kept Parker in place for longer thanhe liked. He couldn’t help comparing this kiss to the few he’d shared with Holly. Touching Holly was like grabbing hold of a live wire. Being kissed by Frannie was nothing more than a mild irritation. Finally he broke the kiss and pulled back. “Don’t do this, Frannie. Don’t embarrass yourself.”
    Stunned, she stared at him. “ Embarrass myself?” she repeated, standing and fisting her hands at her hips. “You’re the one who should be embarrassed. Your wife is sitting right beside you, offering herself to you, reminding you of sacred vows, and all you can do is sit there? Why, you’ve got all the passion of an ice-cold catfish, Parker James. Or is it that you’re too interested in your little redhead to pay any attention at all to your wife?”
    His eyes narrowed. When Frannie was angry, the truth usually came spewing out. “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “I saw you with her yesterday.” She flipped her hair back, then smoothed it with a practiced hand. “Out in front of that little club of yours.”
    Everything inside him went cold and still. “What were you doing at my place?”
    “You’re my husband, ” she pointed out. “Why shouldn’t I come by to see your newest endeavor?And I certainly did see her. Shame on you, Parker. You could at least have found someone with style.”
    “Leave Holly out of this.”
    “Holly?” She laughed harshly and shook her head. “Silly name.”
    Jaw clenched, Parker refused to rise to the bait. Whatever she had in mind, he wasn’t going to play her games anymore.
    Frannie shot him an impatient look. “And that new business of yours? Seriously, Parker. A jazz café? Your daddy must be fit to burst. What are you thinking?”
    He stood to face her. “I’m thinking it’s none of your business what the hell I do, Frannie. Not anymore.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong.” She looked up into his eyes. Tapping one long nail against the center of his chest, she said, “I don’t want this divorce and I’m going to do all I can to stop it.”
    “There’s nothing you can do.”
    “Don’t you believe it.”
    He’d had enough. He’d tried to be fair, but the only justice Frannie believed in was the kind that weighed in her favor. God, he couldn’t believe he’d stayed married for so long to such a woman. What the hell had he been thinking?
    He should have filed for divorce after the first miserable six months of their life together. But at thetime, it had seemed easier to stay in the marriage. Laziness on his part, he supposed. And the fact that he hadn’t wanted to admit to the world what a mistake he’d made. He wasn’t a monk, though, and he damn sure wasn’t a saint. So occasionally, when he was offered uncomplicated sex from someone other than his wife, he took advantage of the opportunity. It didn’t make him proud to be a cheating husband. But since his wife wasn’t interested in being a wife, he didn’t feel the guilt he should have under other circumstances.
    Hell, their marriage had never stood a chance. And it was only his blindness, his ambivalence that had allowed him to go along with it in the first place.
    “Frannie,” he said with a bone-deep fatigue