Free Man of the Hour by Diana Palmer

Meg. But although Wichita was a big city, it was still possible to run into people when you traveled in the same social circles.
    Meg found it out the hard way when she went to a men’s department store that her family had always frequented to buy a birthday present for David. She ran almost literally into Steve there.
    If she was shocked and displeased to meet him, the reverse was also true. He looked instantly hostile.
    Her eyes slid away from his tall, fit body in the pale tan suit he was wearing. It hurt to look at him too much.
    “Shopping for a suit?” he asked sarcastically. “You’ll have a hard time finding anything to fit you here.”
    “I’m shopping for David’s birthday next week,” she said tightly.
    “By an odd coincidence, so am I.”
    “Doesn’t your secretary ,” she stressed the word, “perform that sort of menial chore for you?”
    “I pick out gifts for my friends myself,” he said with cold hauteur. “Besides,” he added, watching her face, “I have other uses for Daphne. I wouldn’t want to tire her too much in the daytime.”
    Insinuating that he wanted her rested at night. Meg had to fight down anger and distaste. She kept her eyes on the ties. “Certainly not,” she said with forced humor.
    “My father was right in the first place,” he said shortly, angered at her lack of reaction. “She would have made the perfect wife. I don’t know why it took me four years to realize it.”
    Her heart died. Died! She swallowed. “Sometimes we don’t realize the value of things until it’s too late.”
    His breath caught, not quite audibly. “Don’t we?”
    She looked up, her eyes full of blue malice. “I didn’t realize how much ballet meant to me until I got engaged to you,” she said with a cold smile.
    His fists clenched. He fought for control and smiled. “As we said once before, we had a lucky escape.” He cocked his head andstudied her. “How’s the financing going for the ballet company?” he added pointedly.
    She drew in a sharp breath. “Just fine, thanks,” she said venomously. “I won’t need any…help.”
    “Pity,” he said, letting his eyes punctuate the word.
    “Is it? I’m sure Daphne wouldn’t agree!”
    “Oh, she doesn’t expect me to be faithful at this stage of the game,” he replied lazily. “Not until the engagement’s official, at least.”
    Meg felt faint. She knew the color was draining slowly out of her face, but she stood firm and didn’t grab for support. “I see.”
    “I still have your ring,” he said conversationally. “Locked up tight in my safe.”
    She remembered giving it to her mother to hand back to him. The memory was vivid, violent. Daphne. Daphne!
    “I kept it to remind me what a fool I was to think I could make a wife of you,” he continued. “I won’t make the same mistake again. Daphne doesn’t want just a career. She wants my babies,” he added flatly, cruelly.
    She dropped her eyes, exhausted, almost ill with the pain of what he was saying. Her hand trembled as she fingered a silk tie. “Ahmed invited us to dinner and the theater Friday night.” Her voice only wobbled a little, thank God.
    “I know,” he said, and sounded unhappy about it.
    She forced her eyes up. “You don’t have to be deliberately insulting, do you, Steven?” she asked quietly. “I know you hate me.There’s no need for all this—” She stopped, almost choking on the word that almost escaped.
    “Isn’t there? But, then, you don’t know how I feel, do you, Meg? You never did. You never gave a damn, either.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and glowered at her. She looked fragile somehow in the pale green knit suit she was wearing. “Ahmed is leaving soon,” he told her. “Don’t get attached to him.”
    “He’s a friend. That’s all.”
    His silver eyes slid over her bowed head with faint hunger and then moved away quickly. “How are the exercises coming?”
    “Fine, thanks.”
    He hesitated, bristling