Summer Mahogany by Janet Dailey

with her for the rest of my life, one way or another."
    "Divorce is expensive," Pete murmured absently.
    "I would have paid not to marry her, but that crafty old man had his eye on the main chance. He kept harping on the damage to her reputation. I'd write out a check now, for any sum she'd care to name, if I thought it would get rid of her," Rhyder declared savagely.
    Gina straightened from the luggage rack. Cold rage stiffened her shoulders as she walked toward the sliding glass door that opened to the terrace. At the pressure of her hand it glided open, the sound immediately drawing both men's attention.
    "How much?" she demanded before either could speak.
    A dull red of embarrassement crept under Pete's fair skin. The forbidding hardness of Rhyder's dark features didn't vary at all at the sight of her, expressing surprise at neither her appearance nor her question.
    The steel blue of his eyes inspected her in an alertly sweeping look. The alabaster paleness of her complexion contrasted sharply with the raven blackness of her hair. The ocean green of her eyes had the tempestuous look of a chilling winter storm.
    "You said a moment ago you'd be willing to pay to get rid of me. How much?" Gina repeated her question.
    "How much do you want?" Rhyder countered smoothly.
    Gina named the first large sum that came to mind. Something flickered across the rugged planes of his face and she realized immediately that he had expected her to ask for more.
    When she had vowed a moment ago to make him pay, she hadn't meant it in a monetary sense. It didn't matter that she could have asked for more and received it.
    "You surprise me, Gina. I would have thought you would put a higher price on your reputation." Rhyder studied her indolently, resting a sun-browned shoulder against a wrought-iron pole supporting the terrace roof.
    He was dressed only in dark blue slacks, the morning sun glistening over the bareness of his chest. Gina found the virile thrust of his vitality abrasive, a too vivid reminder of last night's intimacy.
    "My reputation is intact," she retorted. "Marrying you made everything all right. You're getting a discount because of it."
    "But a divorce so soon?" Rhyder commented mockingly. "Isn't that going to raise some eyebrows?"
    Gina dismissed the question with cold hauteur. "Oh, they'll click their tongues at me for a while. And they'll probably say that's what you get for marrying a man from away. But when I spread the story around of what a pig you are, they'll agree that I did the right thing. They won't be surprised, considering the kind of man they already think you are, messing around with a child."
    The line of his mouth thinned harshly. "You and your grandfather have everything worked out, don't you?"
    "We tried not to overlook anything," she lied.
    It would have been useless to insist there had been no premeditated scheme to trap him into marrying her. He wouldn't have believed it. Besides, she didn't care what his opinion was of her or her grandfather. They agreed on one point—a swift end to the marriage.
    "You'll have your money the minute the divorce papers are signed." Contempt sneered in his promise.
    "An annulment would be much less complicated," Pete inserted hesitantly.
    "Yes, and possibly swifter." His steel gaze narrowed thoughtfully on Gina.
    "That settles it, then," she declared.
     
    THE ANNULMENT was obtained after Gina had overcome her grandfather's initial objections with threats of running away if he didn't agree. It hadn't been easy continuing her life in the small community.
    Although the adults were forgiving of her impetuous and failed marriage, the boys looked at her with different eyes. They glimpsed experience behind the haunted innocence of her face. Her self-respect became a precious commodity to Gina, to be guarded at every turn.
    Her grandfather's pride had been offended by the money Rhyder had given her. Nate Gaynes had deposited it in the bank, refusing to touch a penny of it. Gina,