I'd care. I don't believe there's anything more than friendship between us."
Garth's expression became more skeptical than ever and, stung by the calculating way he was looking at her, she asked, "Why would I marry you if I were in love with someone else?"
"I can think of several possibilities," he replied steadily. "The most likely one is that you were unhappy with your limited role in his life and you reached the conclusion that there was no future in continuing an affair with a married man. You decided that you'd look out for number one and after your grandmother died you came to California to reduce the odds you might waver in your decision."
His mouth twisted into an unpleasant downcurve that was almost a sneer. "What it all boils down to, is that you married me for a reason as old as time— money !"
"I've never heard anything more absurd!"
"What's absurd about it?" he asked, purposely misunderstanding her. "I'm no Onassis, but I'm not exactly a pauper either."
Unable to remain seated at the table when she was fuming inwardly, Julie leapt to her feet and all but ran to the river's edge. She heard Garth's beer can rattle against the metal rim of the trash barrel before it dropped in and she was aware that he was close on her heels, but she kept her eyes determinedly fixed on the pebbly bottom of the streambed until he took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her. He was annoyed by her obstinacy and nearing the end of his patience, and he shook her a bit in exasperation.
"I wish I could pound some sense into that hot little head of yours. For your own good, sooner or later you're going to have to face facts." The measured calmness of his voice was nullified by the severity of his frown. "It's fairly obvious that you have enough of a conscience to feel guilty about what you've done and that accounts for your amnesia. You must know that your doctors could find no physical cause for it. Perhaps if you accepted the truth about yourself, your memory would return."
"Heaven protect me from amateur psychologists!" she petitioned heatedly. In what she hoped was a withering tone, she asked, "Did you dream that one up all by yourself, or did you have some help?"
"It's my own idea," he acknowledged, "but Doctor Ziegler agreed with it."
"What Doctor Ziegler knows about human nature could be written in block letters on the head of a pin!" she retorted. "And let me tell you, Garth Falconer, you'll never convince me that I'm so mercenary that I'd be capable of marrying a man—any man—for money alone." The pitch of her voice had risen with the force of her anger and her fury overcame her caution as she added, "Furthermore, I don't think you've told me this out of an altruistic desire to help me. I think your motive was nothing more and nothing less than sheer, cussed egotism!"
"I'm willing to admit that I have my share of ego. What's wrong with that?" he countered evenly. "But as to my being driven by it—that's a case of the pot calling the kettle black!"
They were standing toe to toe, practically nose to nose, as if they were prize fighters squaring off in the ring. Her eyes blazed up into the accusing fire of his and his hands were intolerably heavy on her shoulders, yet he'd spoken with the same deceptive quietness as before. Julie thought his core of stillness, like the eye of a hurricane, masked a potential for cataclysmic destructiveness. She found it more frightening than if he'd bullied and blustered, but she would not permit herself the luxury of backing down.
"You—" She stopped and pulled sharply away from him. She was stymied, at a loss for an adjective odious enough to apply to him. Inadequately, she cried, "You can take your advice and your insulting opinions and blow them out your ear!"
"Come, come, Julie!" he chided mockingly. "You can do much better than that."
Rising to the bait, she snapped, "You're insufferable!"
He was completely unscathed by her outburst. His posture was relaxed and easy,
Garth's expression became more skeptical than ever and, stung by the calculating way he was looking at her, she asked, "Why would I marry you if I were in love with someone else?"
"I can think of several possibilities," he replied steadily. "The most likely one is that you were unhappy with your limited role in his life and you reached the conclusion that there was no future in continuing an affair with a married man. You decided that you'd look out for number one and after your grandmother died you came to California to reduce the odds you might waver in your decision."
His mouth twisted into an unpleasant downcurve that was almost a sneer. "What it all boils down to, is that you married me for a reason as old as time— money !"
"I've never heard anything more absurd!"
"What's absurd about it?" he asked, purposely misunderstanding her. "I'm no Onassis, but I'm not exactly a pauper either."
Unable to remain seated at the table when she was fuming inwardly, Julie leapt to her feet and all but ran to the river's edge. She heard Garth's beer can rattle against the metal rim of the trash barrel before it dropped in and she was aware that he was close on her heels, but she kept her eyes determinedly fixed on the pebbly bottom of the streambed until he took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her. He was annoyed by her obstinacy and nearing the end of his patience, and he shook her a bit in exasperation.
"I wish I could pound some sense into that hot little head of yours. For your own good, sooner or later you're going to have to face facts." The measured calmness of his voice was nullified by the severity of his frown. "It's fairly obvious that you have enough of a conscience to feel guilty about what you've done and that accounts for your amnesia. You must know that your doctors could find no physical cause for it. Perhaps if you accepted the truth about yourself, your memory would return."
"Heaven protect me from amateur psychologists!" she petitioned heatedly. In what she hoped was a withering tone, she asked, "Did you dream that one up all by yourself, or did you have some help?"
"It's my own idea," he acknowledged, "but Doctor Ziegler agreed with it."
"What Doctor Ziegler knows about human nature could be written in block letters on the head of a pin!" she retorted. "And let me tell you, Garth Falconer, you'll never convince me that I'm so mercenary that I'd be capable of marrying a man—any man—for money alone." The pitch of her voice had risen with the force of her anger and her fury overcame her caution as she added, "Furthermore, I don't think you've told me this out of an altruistic desire to help me. I think your motive was nothing more and nothing less than sheer, cussed egotism!"
"I'm willing to admit that I have my share of ego. What's wrong with that?" he countered evenly. "But as to my being driven by it—that's a case of the pot calling the kettle black!"
They were standing toe to toe, practically nose to nose, as if they were prize fighters squaring off in the ring. Her eyes blazed up into the accusing fire of his and his hands were intolerably heavy on her shoulders, yet he'd spoken with the same deceptive quietness as before. Julie thought his core of stillness, like the eye of a hurricane, masked a potential for cataclysmic destructiveness. She found it more frightening than if he'd bullied and blustered, but she would not permit herself the luxury of backing down.
"You—" She stopped and pulled sharply away from him. She was stymied, at a loss for an adjective odious enough to apply to him. Inadequately, she cried, "You can take your advice and your insulting opinions and blow them out your ear!"
"Come, come, Julie!" he chided mockingly. "You can do much better than that."
Rising to the bait, she snapped, "You're insufferable!"
He was completely unscathed by her outburst. His posture was relaxed and easy,
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