"Quintin, Jardine - Fallen Gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Quintin Jardine)

promise you that. She won't."

"You're kidding yourself!"

"Maggie will not rock the boat."

"If it was my bloody boat, I'd tip you over the side. In fact I think
I'll do just that." She reached out, grabbed a corner of the duvet and
yanked it away, uncovering him. "Go on," she said. "Get up, get
dressed and go on home to your wife, and your new family, where you
belong!"

He smiled up at her. "If you really mean that, I will." He rolled out
of bed in a single easy movement and headed for the bathroom.
Involuntarily, she reached out and caught his wrist, before he was
halfway there; he turned and pulled her towards him, enveloping her in
his arms, pressing her body against his, burying his face in her hair.
"No," he whispered, "I didn't think so."

They moved back to the bed, leaving the duvet on the floor. "Listen to
me," Mario said softly, stroking her belly with the flat of his right
hand. "A few months ago, on any given Saturday morning in Edinburgh,
it would have been Maggie and me lying like this. I loved her, no
mistake, and I wouldn't have looked at another woman. I still
wouldn't, if it weren't for you. But that's all gone; Mags has
changed, and changed for good."

"But why?" she asked. "And why so suddenly? That's what I don't
understand."

He kissed her on the forehead. "I don't think I can find the words to
tell you .. . no, not even you .. . exactly why, or how, it happened.
Let's just say that all her life, she's been fighting this battle with
herself, about how she relates to men; now, finally, she's lost it." He
hesitated. "Paulie," he asked, 'can I trust you to keep a secret?"

"Don't be daft. You know you can."

"Okay." He fixed her with his eyes. "Maggie was raped," he told her,
firing the words at her, watching her hands go to her mouth in horror,
waiting as she took it in. "The man who did it killed himself," he
went on, when she was ready, 'and it was all covered up, but that's
what her emotional breakdown, the one we pretended was flu, was about:
not all, but that was a big part of it. Now, in the aftermath, even
though she's back in control of herself, she just can't bear me to
touch her. She can live with me around the house, okay. We're
pleasant to each other. We still care for each other. But physically,
our marriage is over."

Paula looked up at him with doubt in her eyes. "She'll get over it in