Stroke of Fortune by Christine Rimmer Page A

an endless minute or two go by before hespoke again. “I met her on a business trip to Atlanta.”
    â€œYes. I heard that somewhere. That she was from Atlanta.”
    â€œIs there anything you haven’t heard?” He spoke roughly.
    She refused to be put in her place by his tone. “Yep,” she replied downright cheerfully. “I never heard why you married her.”
    â€œSo you asked.”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    He probably should have told her to mind her own business and turned and left her there to do the job he’d hired her for. But he didn’t.
    â€œYou saw her. All that black hair, those pale eyes and that white, white skin. And a Waverly. The Waverlys are a very important family in Atlanta.” There was a butterfly mobile over Lena’s crib. He tapped it and the butterflies danced. “Monica was an only child, pampered, thoroughly self-absorbed.”
    â€œJust your type, huh?”
    He sent her a lowering look. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”
    She dared to shrug. “Suit yourself.”
    He turned to her fully, folding his arms across his chest. “What happened to the quiet, unassuming housekeeper I used to know?”
    Her gaze did not waver. “I’m not your housekeeper anymore.”
    â€œNo. Now you’re the nanny.”
    She shrugged again. And she waited for him to go on.
    He went ahead and obliged her. “Let’s see. Why did I marry Monica? Well, for all the wrong reasons, obviously. Because she was beautiful. I really liked the way she danced, the way she laughed, the way all the other men wanted her. I wanted her. You could say I was…dazzled by her, I suppose. She was a prize to be won. I wanted to bring her home and show her off. One of the Atlanta Waverlys. My wife.”
    â€œAre you saying that you never loved her?”
    â€œLove.” He gave the word back to her, his ambivalence about it clear in his tone.
    â€œWhat does that mean? Did you love her or not?”
    â€œAll right. Yeah, I loved her—or at least I thought at the time that what I felt for her was love. But looking back, with all the wisdom hindsight affords…” He let the thought finish itself.
    Josie said, “Well, I did get the picture that you wanted to start a family and she didn’t. That always seemed to be a problem between you.”
    Denials rose to his lips. He didn’t voice them. They would have been lies and Josie would have recognized them as such. After all, Monica had never been the quiet type. Whatever was on her mind came right out of her mouth. Josie had heard it all, especially after Monica finally got pregnant. Monica had hatedwatching her figure go and her ankles swell and she’d made no secret of her feelings.
    â€œI was ready for a family. Or at least, I thought I was. I’d been to college, been a soldier and a prisoner of war. Came back a hero—and then got myself in that big, ugly mess when Haley Mercado drowned.” He looked at her measuringly. “You know all about Haley Mercado, right?”
    â€œWell, Flynt, I do read the newspapers.”
    â€œIt was our fault. Mine, Luke Callaghan’s, Tyler Murdoch’s and Spence Harrison’s.”
    â€œWait a minute. The way I remember it, they found all four of you not guilty, at the trial.”
    â€œCarl Bridges got us off. That doesn’t mean we weren’t at fault. We were heroes home from the war. We were very drunk and very full of ourselves. We goaded Haley into going on a midnight boat ride on Lake Maria with us. The boat capsized and we all went under. Haley never resurfaced.”
    â€œIt was an accident.”
    â€œShe shouldn’t have been in that boat. She wouldn’t have been in that boat. We razzed her like hell until she finally went with us.”
    Josie studied him from across the room, her pose a mirror of his, arms folded over those beautiful breasts.