A Ruling Passion by Michael Judith

Author:Michael, Judith [Michael, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Reporters and reporting, Love stories
Publisher: New York : Poseidon Press
Published: 1990-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

Valerie was stunningly beautiftil, the perfect hostess, the perfect wife. He loved her as much as he could love any woman, he told himself; after all, he knew he was a fairly selfish fellow, and it was difficult for him to care deeply about anyone—women had been telling him that all his life. But he was enthralled by Sybille.

It was going so well that Sybille was beginning to take it for granted. But then, on a Tuesday morning in the last week of September, in the eleventh month of their affair, he was not at the guest cottage when she arrived, nor did he call or come at all that day. She still had not heard from him by Friday, and as she drove to the cottage that afternoon she was gripped by anger and fear. When she saw his car parked discreetly at the back, in its usual place, she was so relieved she almost ran into the cottage. "I thought you'd gone away without telling me," she said. "And I'd be alone again."

He was sitting in a wicker armchair, slumped in its depths. "You know I wouldn't do that," he muttered.

Sybille stopped short, in the center of the room. "What happened?" Usually, within thirty seconds of arriving, they would be on their way to bed. This time he did not even look at her. "Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to tell me?"

He looked up at her. "You don't like to hear people's problems," he said shrewdly.

"Not everybody's, but I want to hear yours. Maybe I can help. Carl, what happened?"

After a moment, he shrugged and forced out the words. "I lost... some money. In the market. Got careless, didn't pay attention; thinking of you—" He saw her stiffen, and said quickly, "Not your fault;

Fm not blaming you. There isn't anybody to blame; just me. Thafs the worst, you know: nobody to dump on; it was all me. I made some stupid half-ass moves, my timing was off. I thought I had a sure thing, but it was bad information... and then the stock took a dive..."

"When?"

"Monday afternoon. That's where I was Tuesday: in New York, watching my money go down the fucking drain."

"How much?"

''Not only mine. Christ, that would have been bad enough. But it was Valerie's and her mother's too; their whole goddam motherfuck-ing portfolios blown to hell and gone."

Sybille felt a high-pitched thrill of excitement. "Valerie's? All Valerie's money? Gone?"

"Don't overdo it," he snapped.

"How much was it?"

"All together, hers, her mother's and mine, almost fifteen million."

A long silence fell in the cottage. Sybille began to walk back and forth in the small room. All her money. Ifs £fone. She doesn't have any money. Ifs£ione. She's£fOt nothin£f.

"Can't you sit down?" demanded Carlton.

She shook her head, pacing and pacing, so excited she could not stop. Glee bubbled in her throat. "I'm thinking about what we can do."

"For Chrisfs sake, we can find me fifteen million to replace what I lost." His voice rose; his eyes were burning. "There's nothing you can do, and all I can do is start selling everything I own.

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