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Page 222
stood what a son of a bitch he really was. Nice guys didn't do away with their wives.
Feeling his eyes narrow in steely resolve, he began, "Dear Dixie was a beautiful woman with charm no man could resist. I certainly couldn't, when she set her sights on me. Apparently she thought it would be amusing to marry a restaurant chain." He tried to keep the pain from his voice, but he must not have succeeded, for Abby pushed even closer. He didn't want her sympathy. His tone hardened. "I bored herparticularly when I made it clear that my profits were not earmarked for her personal amusement. There was a limit to how many designer outfits, jewels, and people she could buy."
The room was utterly silent for a moment. Then Abby said softly, "I see." Her soft hand released his to caress his cheek, but he grabbed it, thrusting it away.
"No, you don't. We fought all the time. And then she had the gall to have an affair and flaunt it."
"How awful for you," Abby whispered, again reaching for his hand, now balled into a fist.
The memory still had the power to torture him. Just wounded pride, of course. He'd no longer cared about the witch by thenshe'd long since destroyed any affection he'd felt for her. He'd never loved her. But she certainly had fascinated himwhen it suited her interests.
He went on in a monotone, "She laughed when I said I wanted out; I'd have to buy my freedom, and it wouldn't come cheap. That last night, we

 
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