Wildest Hearts

not planning to file for divorce?”

    “Not at the moment,” Annie said cheerfully.

    “I'd be the first to understand, of course. As I said, I won't deny Oliver is a difficult man. But you're good for him. It's probably very selfish of me and the rest of the family, but the truth is, we'd like to see the marriage work.”

    “I appreciate your good wishes, Sybil.”

    Sybil looked as if she were about to say something else, changed her mind, and walked on out the door.

    Annie sat staring after her for a long time.

    Later that evening Annie spooned couscous onto a large platter and ladled the piping hot vegetable stew over the top. She watched Oliver out of the corner of her eye, deliberately hoping to catch him off-guard. He was pouring wine into two glasses. She waited until he had finished one glass and was starting to fill the other.

    “I wonder why the rumors are suddenly flying about our impending divorce,” Annie said in a deliberately chatty tone.

    The wine bottle came down on the counter with a resounding crash. Oliver spun around, his eyes cold. “What the hell are you talking about?”

    Annie felt herself relax slightly deep inside. “Sybil tells me that after we left Valerie's preview last night there was a lot of gossip about us. People seemed to think we were filing for divorce.”

    Oliver's jaw tightened. “That's one of the reasons I don't attend that sort of thing very often. There's always a lot of stupid gossip.”

    “Umm.”

    “And it is just a lot of stupid gossip, isn't it?” Oliver asked in icy tones.

    Annie smiled gently. “Believe me, Oliver, if I ever decide to file for divorce, you'll be the first to know.” She paused delicately. “I assume I'd get the same courtesy?”

    His expression turned fierce. “There's no reason for us to even talk about it. Things are working out just fine.”

    “Are they?”

    He scowled at her. “What's that supposed to mean?”

    “Forget it.” Annie carried the couscous over to the table and set it down. “I'm just wondering where the gossip came from, that's all.”

    “You wondered if it started because of something I said or did?”

    “Sybil said the rumors were very strong last night.” Annie sat down and began to serve the meal. “It makes one ask who started them. Aren't you curious?”

    “No.” Oliver sat down across from her. His eyes never left her face. “People always talk. That doesn't mean you have to listen.”

    “I'll remember that,” Annie said dryly. She forked up a bite of couscous.

    Oliver reached across the table and caught hold of her hand. “Annie.”

    She put down her fork and met his intent eyes. “Yes?”

    “If you ever have any problems with the idea of being married to me, you come to me first. Agreed?”

    She carried his hand to her lips and kissed his callused palm. “Agreed.”

    His expression softened. “Annie…”

    The kitchen phone rang. Oliver reluctantly got up to answer it.

    “Hello? Yes, Bolt. What have you got?”

    Annie tapped her foot impatiently under the table and watched Oliver for clues as to what Bolt was saying. It was difficult keeping track of the one-sided conversation.

    “A brother?” Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. “There was nothing about any brother in Gresham's file.” He paused, listening. “Right. Stay on it. Call as soon as you've got something concrete.”

    He hung up the phone and came back to the table.

    “Well?” Annie demanded.

    “Walker Gresham appears to have had a brother.”

    “I knew it,” Annie said with satisfaction. “I knew there must be someone out there.”

    “Don't get excited. There's a record of the birth in Phoenix, but nothing else yet. No credit report, no voting records. Nothing.”

    “Maybe he's dead?”

    “Bolt's leaving for Arizona in an hour. He'll check it out.”

    Annie felt a frisson of uneasiness go down her spine. “I don't like this, Oliver.”

    “Neither do I. But if it turns out that Barry Cork is Gresham's younger brother, a lot of things will be explained.”

    * * *

    Annie was pointing out the interesting aspects of a trompe l'oeil mirror to a doubtful client the next afternoon when the phone rang. She let Ella answer it.

    “Don't you just love the way the painting on the mirror fools the eye and makes you think you're looking through an open window?” Annie admired the mirror. “Very effective and quite unique.”

    The client, a young man who was furnishing his first