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She’d clamped a mental lid on her emotions now, closing them firmly away. It was a skill she’d perfected over the past thirty months, a talent she’d found indispensable. It had kept her sane.
Emotions weakened her. Distracted her. She could not afford to let them interfere with what she had to do now.
She met his eyes without wavering. “I have nothing to say to you, except that I want you to stay away from me. I want you out of my life.”
She’d expected her words to infuriate him. Maybe they’d be enough to make him storm away and never want to see her again.
Instead, he seemed genuinely baffled by her attitude.
“My God,” he said in little more than a whisper. “What has happened to you? Who did this to you?”
She didn’t allow herself to react to the pain in his voice. In his eyes. She was operating on instinct now, coldly and logically plotting her next move.
“What I am now, or why, is not your concern. I want you to leave me alone.”
“You are my wife.”
She didn’t even blink this time. “That was a mistake. One I would have expected you to rectify by now.”
He studied her broodingly. “I haven’t gotten a divorce.”
“You should have. Desertion is sufficient grounds in any state, I would assume.”
“Who called you the day you left me?” he demanded, ignoring her comment “What frightened you so badly that you left without even taking all your things? Why have you insisted on being alone, never making friends or allowing anyone near you? Who are you hiding from?”
She kept her face impassive, concealing her reaction to his questions. She had more than a few of her own.
How had he found her? How much did he know about her actions since she’d left him? How long had he been watching her? Who was helping him?
She asked him nothing. Doing so would only drag this out longer, and she could almost hear a clock ticking in her head.
She had to get as far away from Gabe as possible, as quickly as she could. No matter what she had to do.
“You owe me some answers, Page,” he growled when her silence continued. His voice was soft, but dangerous. His eyes focused on her face as though he could see right through the impassive mask she wore.
“This isn’t something I want to discuss in my bathrobe,” she said, glancing t
oward the open bathroom door. “You can wait in here while I change.”
“And let you climb out a bathroom window? I think not.”
She sighed, and spoke condescendingly. “There is no bathroom window. Feel free to check for yourself. But I’m not saying another word until I’ve dressed.”
He looked from her to the bathroom, obviously suspicious. There’d been a time when he had trusted her implicitly, but she wouldn’t allow herself to think of those days.
She knew he could see from where he stood that she’d told the truth about the bathroom layout. After a moment he nodded. “Get dressed. But hurry. I’ve waited long enough for this talk.”
She hadn’t brought her suitcase in from her car, only her hair dryer, cosmetics case and bathrobe. She picked up the jeans and sweater she’d worn earlier.
“I won’t be long,” she said as she walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
It didn’t take her long to dress. It took her a bit longer to steel herself for what she had to do next. Making sure that mental lid was still firmly locked over her feelings, she slid her hand into the pocket of her jeans and closed her fingers around the slender canister attached to her key ring. Her free hand was perfectly steady when she opened the bathroom door.
Gabe had been pacing. He whirled to face her when she stepped out. “All right,” he said. “Now, tell me—”
Her hand came out of her pocket in a swift, fluid movement he never anticipated. Before he could react, she depressed a tiny trigger, sending a thin spray of noxious liquid directly into his amber eyes.
Gabe gave a choked cry, staggered, and covered his face with one hand as he went down to his knees. Coughing from the fumes and cursing the pain, he groped blindly with his free hand, as though reaching out for her. “Damn it, Page.”
