The Millionaire She Married. Christine Rimmer

and then, there had been Mack.

      Mack.

      That did it. Just the thought of his name.

      Jenna shoved at Logan’s chest.

      Startled, Logan pulled away enough to look down at her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

      He still had his arms around her. She felt trapped there, all wrong there. “Please. Let go.”

      He released her and sat back. “Jenna. What the hell is going on here?”

      “I…I don’t think I can marry you, Logan.” She didn’t know she was going to say it until after the words were out. And then, once she had said it, she stared at him, stunned at what she herself had just uttered.

      Logan stared back at her, bewildered. And hurt.

      “Why not?”

      She took his hand and looked into his face, right into his eyes. “You are such a good man. A kind man. A man who wants just what I want. A man I could always count on to be there when I needed him…”

      “Then why can’t you marry me?”

      “Because this…you and me…it just isn’t right for me.”

      His dark eyes were shining, a shine that very well might have come from unshed tears. Jenna watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed, forcing down the emotions a man hesitates to reveal.

      When he spoke, as always, he strove for calm and reason. “And how did you come to this realization?”

      She looked away, and then back. And then, finally, she made herself say it. “Mack’s in town. He’s refused to sign the divorce papers unless I spend two weeks with him first.”

      Logan swore under his breath. Then he asked, carefully, “How long has he been here?”

      “A week.”

      “And you…didn’t feel you could tell me?”

      “I kept hoping he’d give up and go away. I’m furious with him, and I can’t believe he’s doing this and…I just wanted it to all be over before I said anything to you.”

      “But it’s not over.”

      Jenna hitched in a tight breath. “No. It’s not.”

      “You’re talking about more than just the divorce papers, aren’t you? You’re talking about you and him.”

      Jenna wished with all her heart that she didn’t have to answer that. But she knew that she did.

      “I believed it was over, between Mack and me,” she said. “I swear I did, or I never would have said yes when you asked me to marry you.”

      “But…?”

      “But the minute I saw him again…” She shook her head. “I don’t want to get back together with him. It could never work out. But there is unfinished business between Mack McGarrity and me. And I think I’m going to have to take care of it.”

      “Wait a minute. Don’t tell me that you’ll do what he wants you to do, that you’ll actually go away with him!”

      Jenna swallowed. “I…it’s possible. I just might.”

      Logan held her hand more tightly, squeezing the fingers hard enough that she winced. “Jenna. Look what’s going on here, look at the way he’s maneuvering you. He’s a manipulative S.O.B.”

      Gently Jenna pulled her hand free. “Lacey more or less called him the same thing.”

      “It looks like this is one situation where Lacey and I actually agree.”

      “You don’t understand. You don’t know him. He lost his parents when he was very young. He never had a real family. He grew up in foster homes. He had to scratch and scuffle for everything he ever got. When he wants something, he goes after it, any way he has to.”

      “And he’s decided, after all this time, that he wants you?”

      “I can’t read his mind. But I do know there was a time when he and I shared something very special. He told me last Friday that he was trying to come to grips with what went wrong.”

      “He’s chosen a hell of a way to go about it.”

      “As I said, it’s the only way he knows.”

      Logan made a low noise in his throat. “Listen to you. Defending him.”

      She put her hand against the side of his face, longing to make him understand. “Logan. I have to do this.”

      Scowling, he ducked away from her touch. “I think it’s time I had a nice long talk with that—”

      “Please. Don’t.”

      “Jenna. He’s forced you into this.”

      “No. No, he hasn’t. I don’t have to go with him. I could divorce him all over again. It might take time, but it wouldn’t take forever. If I go away with him, it will be because I choose to do it. For myself.”

      Logan looked at her piercingly. “You’re sure?”

      “I am.” She slid the ring off her finger and held it out.

      “Keep it,” Logan said.

      “No. That wouldn’t be right.”

      Reluctantly he took it. A few minutes later, she walked him to the door.

      And ten minutes after that, she was walking out herself. She got into her car and headed straight for the Northern Empire Inn. She knew the way. The inn was a Meadow Valley landmark, built over a century before.

      She was lucky. She found a parking space near the front entrance. The fine old wood floors creaked a little under her feet as she strode through the foyer and up to the front desk.

      “Mack McGarrity’s room, please.”

      The desk clerk, who looked about twenty and had big brown eyes, smiled at her sweetly. “I’ll ring his room and tell him he has a visitor. Your name, please?”

      “Just tell me where his room is. I’ll find it myself.”

      “Oh, I can’t do that.” The clerk’s brown eyes had gone wider than before.

      “And why not?”

      “Well, I mean, it’s…” Her smooth brow furrowed as she tried to think why. And then she remembered. She announced, with great pride, probably quoting from a training manual, “Because all of our guests have a reasonable expectation of privacy.”

      Mack McGarrity has no expectation of privacy at all, Jenna thought, not right now, not when it comes to me….

      But of course, she didn’t say that. The clerk was only following orders. “My name is Jenna Bravo. Tell him I’d like to come to his room.”

      “One moment, please.”

      The clerk turned to the antique switchboard behind her and rang Mack’s room. When she turned back, she was all smiles again. “Mr. McGarrity is expecting you.”

      “I’ll bet he is,” Jenna muttered to herself.

      “Excuse me?”

      “I said, I’ll be so glad to see him. Which room is he in?”

      “He’s taken the East Bungalow. Go out that door there, across the back patio and take the trail that winds to your right.”

      The East Bungalow, nestled among the oaks well away from the main building, was a wood frame structure, blue with white trim. It had a cute little white porch, complete with a rocker, a swing and planters under the front windows. The lights were on inside, spilling a golden glow out into the mild September night.

      The door was wide open and Mack was standing in the doorway—lounging,