Wildest Hearts

find the words. When he looked at her again he could see the intensity in her gaze. “I want you.”

    “I know that.”

    Oliver tried again. “I care for you very much.”

    “I know that.”

    “I swear on my life that I'll take care of you for the rest of my days. You can trust me.”

    “I know that,” she said. She was beginning to sound impatient.

    Oliver sat up slowly. “I'm trying to be totally honest here.”

    “Tell me you love me.”

    “You don't understand.” Wearily he pushed back the covers and got to his feet. He walked slowly to the window and stood looking out at the predawn darkness. “Everything I have is yours.”

    “What I want is your love. I don't give a damn about anything else.”

    He felt a surge of familiar panic sweeping through him. “I'm trying to explain something.”

    “What are you trying to explain? That you think I'll make an okay wife, but that you don't actually love me?”

    “Stop putting words in my mouth,” he said with soft savagery. “Damn it, Annie, I won't be manipulated. Not even by you.”

    “You think I'm trying to manipulate you?” she demanded furiously.

    It dawned on Oliver that he was rapidly losing control of the situation. He turned around and saw that Annie was kneeling proudly on the bed, her chin high, her shoulders squared. He reached out and turned on a lamp. The soft light illuminated the dangerously militant fire in her eyes.

    “All right, let's both take a step back and come at this from another direction,” Oliver said in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

    “What other direction is there? Either you love me or you don't.”

    Oliver felt his temper start to fray. The chilling apprehension inside him was a shark gnawing at his vitals. Annie had been steadily nibbling away at the edges of his control since the day of their marriage. She had found his weak point. She knew where he was vulnerable. “Calm down, Annie. You're getting emotional.”

    “Of course I'm getting emotional. What do you expect? I'm a woman in love with a man who hasn't got the guts to tell her that he loves her. What kind of wimp are you, Oliver Rain?”

    “This argument is turning ludicrous.”

    “Only to you.” Annie scrambled across the bed and stood up to confront him. “I want a man who's brave enough to tell me he loves me. I won't settle for less.”

    Oliver's temper finally slipped the leash. “Damn it, don't you understand? I'm giving you all I have to give to a woman.”

    “Well, it's not good enough.” Annie grabbed her robe off the bedpost and swirled it around herself.

    Alarm streaked through Oliver. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

    “I'm leaving you.” She started toward the bedroom door.

    “It's four o'clock in the morning.”

    “A perfect time to walk out on an idiot.” She was in the hall now.

    Oliver went to the door and saw that she was disappearing into the bedroom she had used when she first moved into the penthouse. “Annie, come back here.”

    She didn't respond. Oliver heard drawers slamming. Then he heard a suitcase being snapped shut. The sounds made him clench his back teeth.

    He would not walk into the bedroom and plead with her to stay. He had his pride. He was in control. He was not weak.

    When Annie reappeared a short time later, she was dressed in jeans and a fuchsia pullover. She had her suitcase in her hand.

    “I'll send for the rest of my things later,” she said as she walked straight past Oliver toward the front door.

    “You're going to regret this,” Oliver warned softly.

    “Is that a threat from the extremely dangerous Oliver Rain?”

    “It's not a threat, Annie, it's a promise. You're going to regret this because you'll soon change your mind. Then you'll have to swallow your pride. You'll have to ask to move back in. You won't like that, Annie. Don't make it hard on yourself.”

    She stopped at the door, her hand on the knob. “It's not my pride that's going to go down in flames, Oliver. It's yours.”

    “The hell it is.”

    Her eyes were bright with hurt and rage. “If you want me back, you're going to have to work at it.”

    “Is that right? How am I supposed to do that?”

    “You're going to have to tell me you love me. You're going to have to shout it from the rooftops, Oliver. I want to hear the words loud and clear. And then you'll have to beg me to come back to you.”

    “Annie, this is stupid.”

    “I couldn't agree more. Good-bye,