Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [157]
“Is that all you've got to say?” Jake asked hoarsely, his fists clenched in an effort to control the emotions that were running through him like high tide. He stooped to pick up the newspaper and waved it at her. “You'll be the topic of conversation and smutty little remarks over breakfast tables everywhere, and all you have to say is, ‘It had to come sometime.’” He crumpled the newspaper into a ball and threw it over the rail into the sea.
“Aren't you overreacting?” she asked. “There have been dozens of other stories printed about you before with one woman or another and you obviously haven't given a damn.”
Jake flinched, his face looking strangely vulnerable for a brief moment before it hardened into an unreadable mask. “Perhaps I'm getting tired of having my affairs publicized to give the masses a cheap thrill.”
Jane gave him a skeptical glance. She knew that Jake couldn't care less what people thought of him. This violent reaction was completely out of character.
“It's not as if I hadn't known what to expect. I didn't walk into our relationship with my eyes closed. I knew that if I became your mistress, a certain amount of notoriety was inevitable. I accepted and came to terms with that fact a long time ago.”
“How very adult and civilized of you,” Jake snapped, his nostrils flaring. “Well, you're not going to have to test your sophistication in this instance. It's all over.”
Jane sat bolt upright, shock and sudden panic causing all color to ebb from her face. “I don't understand.”
He turned and gazed unseeingly out at the sparkling sea, his hands tightly gripping the rail. His profile was frighteningly implacable. “I'm sending you home,” he said ruthlessly. “I should have done it weeks ago.”
“That's crazy,” Jane protested dazedly, standing up and automatically slipping on her white beach coat. “Just because some little man takes our picture and manages to get it into a newspaper? It doesn't make sense.”
“I'm finding the game not worth it,” Jake replied harshly, still not looking at her. “You're just not worth the bother, Jane.”
She felt as if he had driven his fist into her stomach, so blinding was the pain. “I don't believe you,” she said numbly.
“Why not? You knew it had to end sometime. You've lasted longer than most.”
She stepped closer and reached out to put a hand on his arm, instinctively trying to penetrate his hard facade by touch where words were proving useless. He flinched away from her as if she had burned him. “Don't touch me,” he said through his teeth. “God, how I hate a woman who doesn't exit gracefully when shown the door.” He turned to face her, his face granite-hard. “Do I have to say it? You're beginning to bore me. I don't want you.”
Each word was like a whiplash on her raw emotions. Jane shook her head as if to clear it, feeling as though she were caught up in a nightmare. “It doesn't make sense,” she repeated blankly. “Not like this. Not so suddenly.”
He shrugged, his gaze once more on the horizon. “I want you on the plane this evening. You'd better pack.”
As she stared at him, the certainty grew stronger that her instincts were correct. This reversal was entirely too abrupt to be genuine. He couldn't have made love to her with such wild passion only this morning and then decided that she bored him now.
“You're lying to me,” she said huskily. “I don't know why you're acting this way; perhaps it's because of that photo in the paper. But I do know that you're not tired of me.”
She could see his hands tighten on the rail until his knuckles whitened, but when he turned to look at her there was nothing but scorn in his dark eyes. “My God, have you no pride? I've just told you that I don't want you anymore.”
Her eyes were shining with tears as she wrapped her arms around herself to still the trembling that threatened to destroy her fragile control. “Yes, I have pride,” she said simply. “If there ever comes a time when I believe that you don't want me, you won't have any trouble getting rid of me.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Until that time, not all the scorn and rejection in