Ruby gulped at his harsh words. “Is that what you want?”
Jack ran his fingers through his hair in agitation.
“Hell, no! I want a woman to love, who will love me in return. I want to be the most important thing in her life, not a G-string.”
“You are.”
“I’m not and haven’t been for a long time.”
“You are! I just haven’t told you or shown you enough, I guess.”
“Damn right, you haven’t. When was the last time we made love, Rube?”
“I… I don’t know,” Ruby admitted feebly, trying hard to remember. How could she forget something so important?
“Well, I do. It was six weeks ago, and you were so tired I may as well have been screwing a light bulb.”
Ruby gasped at his condemnation of her lovemaking. Her stomach churned at the deterioration she saw in her plans for tonight and for their future. Suddenly the implacable expression on his face sunk in.
Their marriage was over.
“I feel sick. I have to go to the bathroom.”
Jack looked incredulous that she’d interrupt their conversation so abruptly, then threw out his hands. “What’s the use! I feel like puking my guts out, too.”
Ruby saw her shopping bag as she dashed for the bathroom and picked it up. The last thing she wanted was for Jack to look inside and discover the extent of her foolishness.
Locking the bathroom door, she sank down to the floor and bit her fist to keep Jack from hearing the sobs that racked her body.
It was too late for them. Jack had made that clear. She’d waited too long.
It appeared that all her lessons had gained her nothing—Gyda’s words of family and making the man feel important, the head of the household; Thork’s telling her to cherish the moment and relish the gift of love; her realization when his death appeared imminent that family and the love of a good man constituted the most important things in the world, not business success.
She remembered, too, with a sad grin how Thork had told her on their wedding night that he loved her most because she made him smile. Well, dammit, that was one thing she could still make Jack do—smile. If nothing else, this marriage would not end with a whimper. It would end her way—with a bang of laughter.
Ruby took off her clothes with angry determination, right down to the stupid black silk teddy which she’d donned earlier to please Jack.
“Are you all right in there?” Jack asked through the closed door.
Now he worried! “Go away!”
“Let me in.”
“Leave me alone. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Ruby swiped at her eyes and pulled her purchases out of the shopping bag. She smiled with wicked delight. She’d show her stubborn husband. He’d see just what he would be missing. Then he’d be sorry.
At least, she hoped that was the way it would turn out. She sighed woefully, then lifted her chin resolutely.
First she twisted and contorted her body to fit into the siren-red, skin-tight, spandex body suit, then slid her feet into a pair of matching high heels. Next she pulled the long blond wig out of the bag and put it on. She looked in the small mirror over the sink, and almost fainted.
Giggles bubbled on her lips. Good heavens! In trying to look like the blond chippie in spandex that she’d told Jack about earlier today, the one he would probably be looking for once he left her, she’d turned herself into an aging Madonna. If she struck out with Jack, she quipped to herself ruefully, she could always stop at a bikers’ bar on the way home.
But, even as she made mental jokes with herself, Ruby wept inside at the thought of losing Jack forever.
Jack was leaning his head against one forearm on The fireplace mantel when Ruby returned. His other hand held a second glass of Scotch.
Ruby faltered at the look of abject desolation on his face. She had brought him so low. But then, she figured she had nothing else to lose, and neither did he.
Ruby posed provocatively against the door jamb, fearing she looked more silly than sexy.