infatuated with him," she conceded, searching her heart and mind for some link with that part of her life. She couldn't conjure any emotion for Wade. It was as if he'd never been a part of her life. She honestly couldn't say whether she'd loved him or not.
"Infatuated?" he asked sharply. "He charmed you, is that it? You found him attractive and he courted you patiently. Did you think of him when you weren't with him? What did you talk about, the two of you? Did you cry out when you made love?"
"Stop it!" Her face flushed at the memory of Jason's lovemaking. No, she'd never cried out with Wade, but she wasn't sure she should admit it. It would only give him an opening to steer the conversation down a road she didn't want to travel and away from himself. Angry and yet somehow thrilled that he cared enough to interrogate her, she asked, "Why are you doing this? Wade is dead! Dead! What does it matter whether I loved him or not?"
"My past is dead. Why is it that you think you have the right to dig up the corpses of my past but I shouldn't even be curious about yours?"
"Because it's irrelevant here. I've buried my corpses. You dug yours up and brought them here with you."
His jaw tightened, the only sign of reaction in his otherwise stoic expression. "I disagree," he said tautly, "I think your past is very relevant. What's the worst thing that ever happened to you?"
"My father's death," she replied without hesitation. She didn't have to think about it. Her father's death was the single most devastating event in her life.
"Your—your father's death?" he asked as if stunned by her unexpected response. "Not your husband's?"
"By then I didn't love him, if I ever did." In her mind, she relived the disillusionment she'd experienced so long ago, when she'd learned that Wade had lost all the money her father had left them and with it their future. "I can't answer your question because I don't know. I don't know if I loved him. I was so young, so..."
"So what?"
"So vulnerable." She felt suddenly, inexplicably cold. "He was handsome and witty and so aloof. I chased him shamelessly. When my father died, he was there, waiting to step in and take over. I thought he was so strong. It was only after two years of marriage and his squandering of not only his own money but mine as well that I began to see things—to see him as he really was. So, now you know as much about me as I do about you."
"The difference is you knew who you were talking to," he said obstinately, turning and walking away once again.
"All right! I'm sorry!" Caroline cried, trembling with rage. "How many times do I have to apologize? You're not angry because I read your letters, Jason. You're angry because of what was in them, because I know—"
"Know? What the bloody hell do you know, Caroline?" he thundered.
Caroline looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his glare, yet unwilling to back down. They were very much alone here, she realized thankfully. The workers had abandoned the orchards for the siesta. The fires kept the animals and insects at bay, so the only sound that reached them was the relentless lapping of smoldering fires. A strong breeze swept through the beneficio, bringing the promise of rain with it. Far overhead a soaring condor cawed loudly, breaking the unnatural silence.
"I know about your father—what your relationship with him was like. I know that he beat you and you hated him. Of course you did, he brutalized you and your family."
Jason laughed, the bitterest sound Caroline had ever heard. "You said the worst thing that ever happened to you was your father's death. The day my father died was like a liberation for me. That was the day my life began."
"I'm sorry," she choked out. She wanted with all her heart to touch him, to comfort him, but she knew he would only push her away.
"Just so you know what kind of man you've married, Caroline, I have a terrible rage inside me, a gift from my father. It boils up now and then and I lash out at whatever or whoever's closest to me." He studied his hands, turning them over in front of his eyes. "These hands have already killed."
"What are you talking about?" The blood seemed to drain from her body, and she waited