"Roberts, Nora - Private Scandals" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

That's why I knew we were meant to be together."
Rigid as stone, she stared up at him. "Take your hands off me," she said quietly. "Right now."
"Deanna." When he only tightened his hold, she fought back a bubble of panic, a



quick, ugly sensory memory, and shoved.
"I said now." Free, she stepped back and took a deep, steadying breath. "I said I believed you, Marshall, and I do.
What you did with Angela had nothing to do with your feelings for me. However, it had everything to do with mine for
you. I trusted you, and you betrayed that trust. That makes it impossible for us to part friends. So, we'll just part."
"You're hurt now." A muscle twitched in his cheek. "So you're not being reasonable." It was like Patricia, he thought.
So much like Patricia.
"Yes, I'm hurt," she agreed. "But
I'm being very reasonable." A ghost of a smile flitted around her mouth, as insulting as a slap. "I make a habit out of
being reasonable. I'm not calling you any of the names that occur to me."
"You see this as my fault. As a weakness." Confident in his skills as a mediator, he shifted gears. "What you
haven't yet been able to see is your part in it. Your responsibility. I'm sure you'll agree that no successful
relationship is the result of one person's efforts. All the weeks we've been together I've been patient, waiting for you
to allow our relationship to move to the natural and very human phase of physical pleasure."
She didn't think he could shock her again. But she'd been wrong. "You're saying because I wouldn't go to bed with
you, I forced you to turn to Angela?"
"You're not seeing the grays, Deanna," he said patiently. "I respected your wishes, your need to progress slowly. At
the same time, it's necessary for me to satisfy my own needs. Angela was certainly a mistake--"
She nodded slowly. "I see. I'm glad we straightened this out, Marshall, before it went any further. Now I'm going to
very reasonably tell you to go to hell."
She started out, her eyes going to smoke when he blocked the doorway. "We haven't finished, Deanna."
"I've finished, and that's all that counts. We both made a mistake, Marshall, a big one. Now get out of my way, and
stay out of it before I make another one and embarrass us both by tearing the skin off your face."
Stiffly, he stepped aside. "I'll be ready to discuss this when you've calmed down."
"Oh, I'm calm," she muttered as she headed for the studio. "I'm dead calm, you



bastard."
She shoved through the studio doors, strode across the floor and took her place behind the anchor desk.
Finn watched her through the first break. Once he was satisfied she was under control, he slipped out and walked
to the elevator.

Over a celebratory glass of champagne, Angela watched the noon report in her office. She didn't give a damn
about the words or images, but she was interested, even fascinated, by Deanna. The girl looked as cool and sweet
as an ice-cream soda, Angela thought. Except for the eyes. Angela would have been bitterly disappointed if she
hadn't seen the banked fury in Deanna's gaze.
"Direct hit," she murmured, delighted. I win, she thought again, but couldn't prevent a twinge of admiration.
Curled in the leather chair behind her desk, she sipped and smiled, and finally raised her glass in silent toast to
Deanna.
"She's got style, doesn't she?" Finn said from the doorway.
To her credit, Angela didn't jolt. She continued to sip and study the screen. "Absolutely. She could go a long way in
the business with the right teacher."
"Is that the role you've carved out for yourself here?" Finn crossed the room, skirted the desk to stand behind
Angela's chair. "Going to teach her your way, Angela?"