was what she wanted, what she'd dreamed of. She wanted the kind of marriage her parents had enjoyed, a partnership.
Those dreams seemed quite ridiculous now. She sat in a tropical garden in the heart of the Amazon Valley surrounded by the pervasive jungle with her irascible, unrefined husband, a man who had been cut off from civilization for so long he'd reverted to behaving like a savage.
"I still can't understand why a young, attractive woman like yourself would want to live in such an isolated place," he said. "Or why you would marry a man you'd never laid eyes on. You're obviously not desperate."
"No," she agreed, "only lonely."
She'd been lonely since her father's death. Losing the love and camaraderie they'd shared had left her hungry for that kind of spiritual belonging. Foolishly, she'd turned to Wade Marshall to fill the void.
Her first husband had exuded taste and impeccable breeding, but his dissolute living had nearly destroyed them.
Studying her tall, ruggedly handsome husband, she had the inexplicable feeling that she could be happy with him, in spite of his lack of polish, social grace, sophistication. Somehow those things seemed unimportant, meaningless, even ridiculous.
"May I ask how old you are?" he asked, bringing her back from her reverie.
"Twenty-five."
Jason quirked a shocked eyebrow at her answer.
"You needn't look so shocked. Twenty-five is hardly ancient."
"That's true, but you.... I mean, you're so lovely, so..." His incendiary gaze seared her flesh and melted her composure. "Why didn't you marry before now?"
Caroline swallowed her fear. Finally, the moment had come, the moment she had been dreading since she answered Jason's request for a wife. The words in Jason's letter rose in her mind—"chaste, tractable, and of child-bearing age"—and her heart settled to her stomach.
"I didn't mean to pry," Jason said a bit defensively. "You yourself said that I know nothing about you."
"I... I was married before," she confessed quickly before she lost her nerve, feeling as if she'd just admitted to murder or some other heinous crime.
His face hardened and he stood straight up, dropping his foot from the bench. "Derek failed to mention that detail," he said through clenched teeth. "Didn't he tell you what my requirements were?"
Fear began to coalesce into anger. Caroline clenched her fists to control her rising ire. "I suppose he thought we were suitable..." she lied. She knew she'd live to regret it, but she couldn't tell him the whole truth, not when he stood glowering down at her as if he'd like very much to throttle her.
"I'm sorry." She studied him, mesmerized by the bitterness etched across his taut mouth. A cold dread shivered through her body. "I'm a widow. That is... I'm not sorry I'm a widow, I'm sorry..."
Jason laughed without humor. "This must be Derek's idea of a joke."
"A joke? I hardly think so. I mean, if he knew how you would react, it would have been very cruel to send me all this way for nothing." Tell him, her conscience urged, but when she gazed into those fury-bright eyes, her throat closed.
"Well, that's exactly what he's done," Jason assured her, turning away as if to leave.
"Wait!" Caroline came to her feet, and Jason turned to face her expectantly. "You can't just walk away like that. Surely you didn't expect one of the fine families of New Orleans to send a young, innocent daughter to the wilds of Brazil."
"I have quite a lot to offer a wife," he assured her. "Or didn't my cousin tell you that? I think he did. I think that's exactly why you're here. You seemed overly interested in my financial status earlier."
Caroline bristled. She threw the book onto the stone table with all her strength, then stood glaring at him, hands clenched into fists at her sides.
"I never asked you about your financial status." She bit the words out. "If you'll remember, you volunteered that information."
"You did the calculations, Mrs. Sinclair."
"If I were only interested in financial security, I could have found that without traveling hundreds of miles!"
"It would have been better for both of us if you had."
"What are you saying?" she asked apprehensively. "Are you saying that because I'm not a—a—because I've been married, that you intend to...."
"The mail steamer will return in a month. What I am saying is that you will be aboard that boat when it returns to Manaus."
"But—but we're married!" Caroline sputtered.
"A condition easily remedied," he said, his manner indifferent. "An unconsummated marriage is easily dissolved. You can take care of it when you reach New