[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Oliver moved towards her but she barred the way, listening to the slam of
the outer door as Matt left the building.
 I m not inviting you into my home, Oliver, she said coolly once she was
sure Matt had gone, her blue eyes lifting to meet the grey stab of his.
 Your home? The phrase seemed to infuriate him; his nostrils flared and
his mouth hardened into a straight line as he stared at her.
 From now on, yes! she said, staring back and refusing to be intimidated.
His lips unclamped enough for him to mutter icily,  Well? You said you
wanted to talk to me.
 Yes, I do, about Matt. . .
 I m not discussing another man out here where anyone could overhear
us! he bit out, then took her arm in iron fingers, and before she could stop
him, had thrust her backwards into the flat.
Francesca wrenched herself free with fury and saw the glint of satisfaction
in his eyes. He was pleased with himself for having forced his will on her!
That made her so angry, she turned on him, hoarsely shouting,  Yes, you
enjoy pushing people around, don't you? That s what you ve been doing to
Matt--threatening him with all sorts of reprisals for helping me!
Oliver slammed the front door behind them.  He has no business coming
between me and my wife!
 He s done nothing of the kind. I left you and came up to London without
Matt knowing anything about it. Don t try to kid yourself that Matt has
caused the break-up of our marriage, because it s not true. If Matt didn t
exist, I would still have left you.
A lightning flash of rage shot from his eyes and she backed into the sitting-
room, her heart in her mouth. Oliver followed her in a tense prowl that held
all the threat of a jungle animal tracking prey. Francesca felt her nerves
crackling like a forest fire, but by the time she turned to face him again she
had got herself under control once more, her dark blue eyes cool as they
surveyed him.
She couldn t doubt his anger because she had left him, but how much
wounded ego, hurt pride was involved? How much did he really care about
her? Those were questions she did not intend to ask him, even if she ached
to know the answers. She had meant to shock and startle him by her
sudden decision to go; his reaction didn t surprise her, it was what she had
been expecting, knowing Oliver.
What she didn t yet know was whether or not she had shaken him into
looking at their marriage with new eyes. Time and habit had blurred their
relationship; Oliver hadn t really seen her for years--was he  seeing her
now? Did it matter to him that he was losing her, or was he in such a
temper simply because one of his possessions was apparently walking out
of the door?
Quietly, she said,  Just stop picking rows with Matt, that s all. Oh, there s
another thing... I ve written to Jon. . .
Another flash of rage, and her body tensed as he reached out to grab her.
 You ve done what? he snarled.  I don t want Jon dragged into this
squalid business!
 Don t shout at me! And anyway, I was very careful what I said . . . just
told him that I would be working in the company from now on, and that I
was going to live in London during term-time. I d already discussed
holidays with Matt and arranged that whenever Jon was home I d be free
to look after him.
 In this little box of a place? sneered Oliver, his gaze shooting around the
room in contempt.
 He might find it fun to sleep on the chaise-longue for a few nights,' she
said, looking away.
 Lambourne is his home and that is where he ll spend his holidays! Oliver
insisted.  If you want to see him, you ll have to do so at Lambourne.
 You don t hold all the cards, Oliver, so don t imagine you do! Francesca
lifted her head to stare angrily at him.  Don t force me to make this a legal
fight for custody of Jon. He would be the one who suffered most from
that.
 Don t threaten me, Francesca!
 You re the one who goes in for threats. I want a sensible compromise. . .
 Compromise? The word was spat at her; his hands tightened, biting into
her flesh, and he shook her backwards and forwards so violently that her
hair came tumbling down, the long blonde strands flying around her face
and tangling in his fingers. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]