To Tell the Truth by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page A

jeered.
    'I'm very fond of him." Nervously she ran her fingers through the sides of her hair. "But I never have actually loved him."
    "Then why did you marry him? Is he rich?"
    "That's beside the point," Andrea protested helplessly.
    "I take it that means 'yes,' doesn't it?" His mouth curved into a bitter cynical line. "Now I understand what you meant when you said you'd never known a man. How could I have been so naîve as to think you were trying to explain that you were a virgin? You were really saying that you had a mouse for a husband, weren't you?"
    "Stop it!" she cried. "You don't know what you're saying!"
    "Don't!?" Tell sneered. "Only a henpecked husband would let his wife come to a resort by herself. He had to know that every red-blooded male that saw you would make some kind of advance."
    "Stop it, Tell!" She placed her hands over her ears to deafen the flow of his sarcasm.
    Her left wrist was viciously jerked away. "And don't try to make me believe that you didn't intend to accept some of those advances!" he growled, twisting her hand in front or her face. "You're not even wearing a wedding ring. When did you take it off? After you left his house?"
    A sob rasped her throat. "It's being repaired. I lost one of the stones. I swear, it's in the jewelry shop!"
    "You disgust me!" Anger vibrated through his huskily controlled voice as he abruptly released her wrist.
    "Please. Give me a chance to explain." Her chin quivered uncontrollably.
    "It wouldn't make any difference," he said coldly. "If you were divorced and free to marry, I would never want you for my wife. If you could so conveniently forget one husband, you could do the same with me."
    "No."
    "Here." He reached into his pocket and removed a ring box. "I bought this for you. You might as well have it. It's memento, a trophy"—he added sarcastically—"to show that your hunt wasn't totally unsuccessful."
    The lid of the tiny box flipped open as he crushed it into her hand. The rainbow colors of a large diamond solitaire laughed mockingly at her. Andrea closed her eyes against the reflecting brilliance of the exquisitely simple and expensive ring. Weakly, she tried to hand it back to him.
    "Keep it, I said!" Tell snapped.
    Then his long strides were carrying him to the door. On trembling legs, she hurried after him, grabbing the door before he could close it behind him.
    "Please, give me a chance to explain," she pleaded.
    "Accept that it's over, Andrea. Nothing you can say is going to change that." A cold smile was carved into the bronze mask. "Maybe you'll have better luck with your next sucker."
    The door was yanked free of her hold and slammed shut.
    "Tell!" Her fingers closed over the knob, but she didn't attempt to open the door. Sobbing heavily, she leaned against the door, trying to wash away the intense pain with tears.  
    Long minutes went by before Andrea regained any degree of control. He had made it very clear that he didn't want to listen to her, but she loved him too desperately not to try again. Somehow, she had to make him understand. Scrubbing the tears from her cheeks, she forced her faltering left to carry her to the telephone. After taking deep breaths to steady her voice, she contacted the desk.
    "Mr. Stafford's room, please," she requested.
    "'I'm sorry, Mr. Stafford isn't in," the clerk replied.
    "Do…do you know where he is?" She faltered for a second as a knife of despair was plunged into her heart.
    "He stopped by the desk a few minutes ago, miss, and asked us to prepare his bill, then he went out."
    "I see." She swallowed tightly. "Thank you."
    Hanging up the telephone, she realized that Tell had probably guessed she would try again to explain and had deliberately not returned to his room. He probably also had guessed that she would not want to make a scene in the lobby or any other public place. That left only one alternative.
    With shaking fingers, she withdrew the lodge stationery from the drawer of a small table. Quickly, she