Loving Jessie by Dallas Schulze Read Free Book Online

what you wished for? Or maybe it was a Gypsy curse. Dana sighed as she splashed a healthy measure of scotch into an old-fashioned glass. Whatever its ethnic origins, she should have heeded the warning. Then again, maybe the more appropriate warning was the one about pride going before a fall.
    Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror behind the wet bar, Dana’s fingers tightened around the glass as she fought the sudden urge to hurl it at the woman looking back at her. She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in slow, deep breaths, the way she’d once done before walking out onstage. Opening her eyes again, she studied her reflection dispassionately.
    There was no vanity in the assessment. After spending more than half her life listening to her physical attributes being picked apart by her mother, other contestants and a revolving assortment of pageant organizers, she had learned to dissect her own appearance as impersonally as a scientist inspecting a specimen on a slide. At thirty-four, she no longer had the dewy look of youth necessary for competition, but she was still a beautiful woman.
    Her hair was the pale golden color sometimes called champagne blond. When it was loose, it fell in a heavy curtain halfway down her back, but she rarely wore it that way anymore. Usually she pulled it back into a simple twist, as it was now. The stark simplicity of the style emphasized the classic oval of her face. Her eyes were a deep, clear blue, framed by thick, naturally dark lashes. Her nose was short and straight, and her mouth was full and beautifully shaped. It was a face of classic beauty, the kind that weathered the whims of fashion.
    But it wasn’t enough, she thought. It hadn’t been enough to win the crown her mother had coveted so desperately, and it wasn’t enough to hold her marriage together. It didn’t matter how perfect the face in the mirror was; it wasn’t quite enough.
    Hearing footsteps in the hall, she lifted the glass, letting the smooth bite of the scotch burn away the threat of tears. Her self-control firmly in place, she turned as Reilly entered the living room. Even after five years of marriage, despite all that had happened between them, her heart still jumped when she saw him. There had been a time when she’d welcomed that bump of awareness, the quick little rush of pleasure that came with knowing he was hers. The pleasure was still there, but now it was so mixed with hurt and anger that she couldn’t separate the two, and she half turned away, afraid of what he might read in her eyes.
    Halfway across the living room, Reilly felt the pain of her subtle rejection slice into him, but he forced himself to move forward as if he hadn’t seen it, as if she’d smiled and welcomed him the way she once would have. His fault, he reminded himself. If she didn’t want to look at him, he had no one to blame but himself.
    “How was the luncheon?” he asked, pretending not to notice when she turned her head so that his lips landed on her cheek rather than her mouth. The light floral scent of her perfume filled his head, made him ache to pull her into his arms. Time, he reminded himself. He’d promised himself that he would give her all the time she needed.
    “Tiring.” Casually, Dana moved away, making a conscious effort to relax her grip on the heavy glass. She’d been involved in several charities over the last five years. She had neither marketable skills nor any driving ambition toward a career, but she did enjoy the idea that shewas making a difference in the world. Reilly had teased her once by saying that she’d spent so many years telling pageant judges that she wanted to work for world peace that she’d started to believe it. Remembering the laughter in his eyes, she felt an aching sense of loss. But, when she spoke, her voice was calm, well modulated—yet another benefit of her years on the circuit.
    “Margaret Docherty wants to cut the building budget by eliminating half the