Wife On Approval. Leigh Michaels

tried to catch his eye, but Austin had focused all his attention on Sabrina, sparing only a nod to Paige before turning toward the door.

      “It’s time for me to be going, too,” Paige heard herself say.

      Austin paused, a hesitation so brief and so quickly masked that she found herself wondering if she’d imagined it. But as he held the door for her, she saw a speculative glimmer in his eyes.

      She didn’t know if she was more annoyed with herself for making a probably rash move, or with him for reading unwarranted meaning into it.

      “I do hope I haven’t left you with a wrong impression,” she said tartly as they stepped off the concrete porch and onto the uneven gravel of the driveway. “I certainly wouldn’t want to put myself in the same category as the super at Aspen Towers, coming up with one reason after another to cling to you. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

      “For what?”

      “For assuming…” She realized too late that she had an extra—and very interested—listener, and tried to be oblique for the sake of the eavesdropping child. “It never occurred to me…I mean, that it might not have been divorce. Why didn’t you bother to correct me, Austin?”

      Austin shrugged. “I suppose because it didn’t matter.”

      He obviously wasn’t saying that his wife’s death didn’t matter. So, since it was perfectly clear what he was thinking, Paige told herself irritably, he might as well have just come straight out and said it. Because it doesn’t matter what you think of me.

      She felt awkward. “Of course not,” she said quietly.

      “As long as…I mean, before it comes up again…perhaps we should talk about how to deal with the past.”

      “Our shared past, you mean? Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that? You seem to have made your choice already this evening when you referred to me as Mr. Weaver.”

      “Oh. I suppose so, yes.” She paused beside her van, fumbling with her keys. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

      Austin walked on toward the Jaguar parked just behind her van, then turned to face her once more. “I don’t suppose it’s any of my business,” he said finally, “but why haven’t you told them? Your partners, at least?”

      Paige didn’t look at him. “Because it wasn’t important for them to know.”

      “Really?” He opened the back door of the car for Jennifer and closed it behind her. “That’s very interesting.”

      “I don’t understand what you mean.”

      “Just this.” He took a few steps toward her and leaned against the front fender of his car, arms folded across his chest. “If the fact that we were once married isn’t important, Paige, then why on earth are you choosing to make a state secret of it?”