Free Paradise County by Karen Robards

on to her dignity by the skin of her teeth while she fought to keep her voice from shaking. Shock had held the worst of the pain at bay, but now it was wearing off and she was starting to feel the sharp, cold agony of it like a knife twisting in her heart.
    “You know I’ll always love you.” It was his coaxing voice again. “It’s just that …”
    “Good-bye, Paul,” Alex said. Before he could reply, she lifted the receiver from her ear, swung around in the chair, and set it back in its cradle. For a moment she simply sat there staring at the telephone, and at her hands, both of which now held the receiver in place as if to keep it from rearing up and attacking her. She was gripping the cream-colored plastic so tightly that her knuckles showed white. Her engagement ring glowed with a life of its own as her finger moved: the huge diamond sparkled and winked as if mocking her pain.
    Tara was probably with Paul right now, mocking her as brazenly as the diamond.
    “You son of a bitch!” Alex said, voice low, her breathing suddenly harsh and ragged as she snatched at the ring and dragged it off her hand. “You cheater! You no-good, dirty rotten liar!”
    Gasping as she fought back a sudden rush of scalding tears, she hurled the ring away from her as hard as she could.
    “Whoa, now,” a male voice said. Unbelievably, without the least warning, Joe Welch appeared in the library’s open doorway just in time to field the ring that seemed to be aimed straight at his face. With a quick movement, he dodged, grabbed it out of the air, and stood there frowning at her.

Seven

    W hat are you doing here?” Alex demanded, struggling to control the ragged breathing that threatened to turn into open sobs at any second. She glared at him. Although her vision was slightly blurred from incipient tears, his tall form in the bright blue jacket was impossible to mistake. “This is not a good time for me.”
    “I can see that.” His voice was dry.
    Instead of exercising a modicum of tact and going away, he walked on into the room and right up to the desk. One large brown hand pressed flat against the desktop as he leaned over it and held out her ring to her between his thumb and forefinger. The ring looked small and delicate in his big hand; the diamond flashed again, mocking her.
    “Drop something?”
    She drew a deep, steadying breath. Hell would freeze over before she would cry in front of this man.
    “I didn’t drop it. I threw it,” she said with venom, taking the ring from him. Opening the desk drawer, she dropped the ring inside and closed the drawer with an audible snap before looking up to meet his eyes with near loathing in her own. “And I would appreciate it if you’d leave. As I said, this is not a good time for me.”
    “Have a fight with your boyfriend?” He straightened away from the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding her as if she were an insect on a pin.
    “My fiancé just called to tell me that he married someone else last night.” Her voice was brittle. Why she admitted such a thing to him she didn’t know. It was certainly none of his business, and he was certainly not one of her biggest fans. Additionally, it wasn’t like her to confide her troubles in a stranger. But she’d had so many shocks over the last few weeks that, for the moment at least, she was no longer—quite—in control of herself. She was off-balance, like an acrobat teetering wildly on a high wire.
    “Poor baby.” He sounded the reverse of sympathetic.
    Anger stung her, and her spine stiffened. She glared at him. “Look, just go away, would you?”
    “So you can sit here and bawl your eyes out?”
    “I am not going to …” She broke off. Her vision had cleared enough to allow her to see past the jacket to the expression on his face. He was looking her over critically, his eyes narrowed so that the crow’s-feet around them were visible, and his mouth was set in a hard, straight line. Moisture gleamed faintly