Roarke's Kingdom

Roarke’s fists clenched. “You don’t give a damn for her.”

“Of course I do, darling. Why else would I be here?”

“For the same reason you came back before,” he said flatly. “For money.”

The lovely face hardened. “I’m your wife, Roarke. You owe me.”

“You’re not my wife, and I don’t owe you a damned thing.”

“Ah.” Alexandra’s voice was soft. “But I’m still Susanna’s mother. No divorce can change that, c

an it?”

Roarke stiffened. “It’s too late to try playing at being Susanna’s mother again.”

His ex smiled. “Try telling that to the courts, darling. We both know how they feel about a mother’s right to her child.”

“We’ve been all through this, Alexandra. You deserted Susu—”

The slim shoulders rose and fell in an easy shrug. “Semantics. I left here because I had no choice. I couldn’t go on living with you on this awful island. You may want to play at being a recluse, but I didn’t want that kind of life for myself.” Her gaze narrowed. “And I don’t want it for Susanna. That would make devastating testimony in the hands of a good psychiatrist, don’t you think?”

“Alexandra—”

“Of course, there’s always the chance you’d win, once we’d gone through all the appeals. I’ve heard these cases can drag on for years.” She sighed dramatically. “It would be difficult for Susanna, I suppose, shuttling from parent to parent while we battled, but then, she’s a sturdy little girl, isn’t she?”

“You always were a bitch,” Roarke said softly.

“I’m only trying to point out the pitfalls of taking our differences to court, darling, especially since, in the end, you’d probably win.” There was a meaningful pause. “After all,” she said, “you’re the one with all the money.”

Roarke moved quickly, like the big cat after which his island had been named, closing his hands on Alexandra’s shoulders and slamming her back against the wall.

Her voice rose in a shriek.

“Let go of me! Damn you, let go or I’ll charge you with assault. Just see how much sympathy that brings you in a custody fight.”

“Roarke.” Jennifer’s voice trembled. “Roarke, please—”

“Stay out of this!”

But she couldn’t.

She could sense the violence in him and though she understood it, she knew that it would play straight into his ex-wife’s hands.

So she put her hand on his shoulder. His muscles were like steel beneath her palm and she took a breath and spoke his name again.

“Roarke,” she said softly.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then she felt his muscles go slack.

He drew a ragged breath, lifted both hands from his ex-wife in a slow, exaggerated gesture and stepped away from her.

“Okay,” he said tonelessly. “How much do you want this time?”

Alexandra crossed her arms over her breasts and massaged her shoulders. “Don’t you ever dare try that again, Roarke, or I swear—”

“I asked you a question. How much?”