appendectomies within thirty-six hours of each other. In college we majored in different fields, but we always had the same grade-point average. I thought that when Elise married Tommy the pattern had been broken, but I met Andre Meleaux on the plane to Paris, and a month later we eloped."
Max had no ready reply this time; and that surprised Erin. She looked up to find him frowning, his eyes a sharp, glittering blue.
Chapter 6
"I didn't know you'd been married," Max said finally, His voice had taken on a sharp edge, startling Erin.
"Yes, for three years. The same as Elise."
Max was still staring at her strangely. Not knowing what else to say, she lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug.
"Your sister is a widow," he said a moment later. "Does that mean you are also?"
"No. But my divorce from Andre became final two weeks after Tommy died," Erin replied with a sad smile. She tried to keep her voice neutral, but some of the old pain had crept in. Uncomfortable, she turned and stared out the window at the darkness.
The flight attendant came by and took their cups, and when she'd gone Max reached up and clicked off the overhead lights. The resulting dimness added a touch of intimacy that seemed to separate them from the other passengers, enclosing them in a tiny, private world of their own.
"So what happened?" he said in the gentlest of voices.
Erin started to tell him that it was none of his business, but when she met his eyes and saw the tenderness there, the caring, she succumbed to his coaxing.
"I'm not sure, exactly." She looked down, fixing her gaze on her fingers, which were pleating and unpleating the lower edge of her jacket. "In the beginning we were very happy. We were young and in love. Andre was charming and gallant, perhaps as only a Frenchman can be. He made me feel so.. .so.. .special."
The words hit Max like a fist in the gut, but clenching his teeth, he strove to keep his expression impassive. Jealousy was an emotion he had never experienced before, and it was damned uncomfortable. He found he hated the thought of any other man touching Erin, of her being bound in any way to someone else. And though it was less than praiseworthy, Max admitted to himself that he was fiercely glad the marriage had ended. Yet, at the same time, seeing the hurt and regret she couldn't hide, he ached for her. Andre Meleaux was a fool, he decided, studying Erin's pensive expression.
"When he proposed I told him that I didn't think I was cut out for marriage, that I doubted I could ever be content in one place forever," Erin continued. "But he swore that was no problem, that I could work as much as I wanted, travel as much as I wanted. He claimed he found my restless spirit captivating. Certainly he was proud of my ability with languages. I know that."
Max looked at her, saying nothing, and after a moment she went on.
"After we were married I continued to free-lance, though I did cut back on the number of jobs I took. I translated industrial manuals and instructions for companies who exported products, acted as interpreter for visiting diplomats and occasionally took tour groups on short trips, but I was never gone for very long at a time."
Erin gave an ironic little laugh. "But apparently my husband wasn't as modern as he thought. Gradually his delight in my 'uniqueness' dimmed to a sort of grudging acceptance, and even that turned to outright resentment after a couple of years."
"Couldn't you compromise?"
"I tried that. I took fewer and fewer jobs, until I was hardly working at all. I knocked myself out, trying to be the kind of wife he seemed to want; I gave parties, redecorated our apartment, tried to get interested in domestic things." Eyes cloudy with bewilderment, Erin looked at Max and lifted her hands, palms up, then let them fall back into her lap. She shook her head slowly. "Nothing worked. Andre wasn't interested in compromise; he demanded complete capitulation. It became more and more obvious as time
Max had no ready reply this time; and that surprised Erin. She looked up to find him frowning, his eyes a sharp, glittering blue.
Chapter 6
"I didn't know you'd been married," Max said finally, His voice had taken on a sharp edge, startling Erin.
"Yes, for three years. The same as Elise."
Max was still staring at her strangely. Not knowing what else to say, she lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug.
"Your sister is a widow," he said a moment later. "Does that mean you are also?"
"No. But my divorce from Andre became final two weeks after Tommy died," Erin replied with a sad smile. She tried to keep her voice neutral, but some of the old pain had crept in. Uncomfortable, she turned and stared out the window at the darkness.
The flight attendant came by and took their cups, and when she'd gone Max reached up and clicked off the overhead lights. The resulting dimness added a touch of intimacy that seemed to separate them from the other passengers, enclosing them in a tiny, private world of their own.
"So what happened?" he said in the gentlest of voices.
Erin started to tell him that it was none of his business, but when she met his eyes and saw the tenderness there, the caring, she succumbed to his coaxing.
"I'm not sure, exactly." She looked down, fixing her gaze on her fingers, which were pleating and unpleating the lower edge of her jacket. "In the beginning we were very happy. We were young and in love. Andre was charming and gallant, perhaps as only a Frenchman can be. He made me feel so.. .so.. .special."
The words hit Max like a fist in the gut, but clenching his teeth, he strove to keep his expression impassive. Jealousy was an emotion he had never experienced before, and it was damned uncomfortable. He found he hated the thought of any other man touching Erin, of her being bound in any way to someone else. And though it was less than praiseworthy, Max admitted to himself that he was fiercely glad the marriage had ended. Yet, at the same time, seeing the hurt and regret she couldn't hide, he ached for her. Andre Meleaux was a fool, he decided, studying Erin's pensive expression.
"When he proposed I told him that I didn't think I was cut out for marriage, that I doubted I could ever be content in one place forever," Erin continued. "But he swore that was no problem, that I could work as much as I wanted, travel as much as I wanted. He claimed he found my restless spirit captivating. Certainly he was proud of my ability with languages. I know that."
Max looked at her, saying nothing, and after a moment she went on.
"After we were married I continued to free-lance, though I did cut back on the number of jobs I took. I translated industrial manuals and instructions for companies who exported products, acted as interpreter for visiting diplomats and occasionally took tour groups on short trips, but I was never gone for very long at a time."
Erin gave an ironic little laugh. "But apparently my husband wasn't as modern as he thought. Gradually his delight in my 'uniqueness' dimmed to a sort of grudging acceptance, and even that turned to outright resentment after a couple of years."
"Couldn't you compromise?"
"I tried that. I took fewer and fewer jobs, until I was hardly working at all. I knocked myself out, trying to be the kind of wife he seemed to want; I gave parties, redecorated our apartment, tried to get interested in domestic things." Eyes cloudy with bewilderment, Erin looked at Max and lifted her hands, palms up, then let them fall back into her lap. She shook her head slowly. "Nothing worked. Andre wasn't interested in compromise; he demanded complete capitulation. It became more and more obvious as time
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