An Interrupted Marriage (Silhouette Special Edition) Read Online Free Page B

even felt a little sorry for you because of it. You were, after all, very young at the time.”
    “I was twenty-one.”
    “Very young,” Mrs. Riordan repeated, “to be married to a man ten years older.”
    “Nine.”
    Mrs. Riordan made a dismissive gesture. “I suppose he thought you would give him children.”
    Jade’s hands clenched tightly before she deliberately relaxed them. She said, “There’s still time. Actually, Magnus didn’t w—”
    Mrs. Riordan’s gaze sharpened as Jade halted in mid-sentence, but she said nothing.
    “Things will be different now,” Jade said firmly. “And I’m afraid I don’t think it’s...appropriate to discuss my marriage—with anyone.” She stood up. “If that’s all you wanted...?”
    A door opened and closed and light, quick footsteps traversed the uncarpeted passageway. A young woman appeared in the doorway of the room. Her dark hair was swept back into a knot, her brown eyes questioning as they met Jade’s.
    She wore jeans that showed off a nicely proportioned, curvy figure, and a cropped top displaying a firm tanned midriff. In one hand she had a large plastic carrybag with a shop logo printed on it. “I’m back, Mrs. Riordan,” she said. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”
    “I was just leaving,” Jade said. “You’re Ginette?”
    The young woman gave her an alert, curious look. “That’s right. You must be—”
    “This is my son’s wife,” Mrs. Riordan said.
    Ginette held out her hand. “Hello. I’m pleased to meet you at last, Mrs. Riordan.” Her clasp was firm and seemed friendly.
    “Call me Jade, please.”
    “Thanks. With two of you in the house it could get confusing.” Turning to the older woman, Ginette added, “I’ll just go and get changed, then I’ll be right with you.”
    “Yes.” Mrs. Riordan was eyeing the skimpy top. “You’d better change.”
    Ginette stood back for Jade to go out first, and threw her a wry look before hurrying off down the passageway.
    Shaken by the confrontation with his mother, Jade found herself wavering in her decision to confront Magnus. She hesitated, then walked to the front door, down the broad steps and across the springy short grass to the ragged edge above the beach. Here it was not fenced, and she kicked off her shoes and went on down the uneven, sandy slope, her feet sinking into warmth and gritty softness.
    The beach had a slight downward slope, and she found firmer, cooler sand to walk on where the tide had recently receded, leaving behind glistening bits of driftwood and scattered shells.
    A small breeze ruffled her skirt and her hair, and she shook her head back, then gave in to an impulse and ran—ran along the curving tide line, with the wind on her face and the sand under her feet, for the sheer joy of being there.
    She didn’t stop running until she reached the water-worn grey rocks at the base of the headland, and then she climbed them until she found one that was almost flat on top, and sat there with the flared skirt of her dress drawn round her knees, hugging them and staring out at the sea until her breathing was perfectly steady and the sky was washed faintly with pink, the horizon gradually darkening.
    She stood up at last, discovering that her limbs had stiffened, and looked towards the house. It gleamed white, the windows dark and opaque, and as she gazed at it a man came out of the door and stood looking about him. Magnus.
    He was too far away for Jade to hail him. She scrambled down the rocks and briskly retraced her steps along the sand. From there she could see the top storey of the house, but knew that she’d be invisible to Magnus unless he came to the edge of the grass where he could look down on the beach.
    She had nearly reached the spot where she’d climbed down before she saw him there. She waved, and he lifted a hand in return, but didn’t come to meet her. When she paused at the foot of the slope, she saw that he had her shoes in one hand, and only then did he