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really, that she should feel shocked—even crazier that she had to blink back the tears. This was something she had been expecting for the past three years. It was the logical step and one that her family had frequently urged her to take.
    Angolos wanted a divorce.

    ‘You look very nice, dear,’ Ruth commented as she walked with Georgie to the front door.
    ‘I’m wearing make-up,’ Georgie admitted, lifting a self-conscious hand to her lightly glossed lips.
    ‘Charming, but I was thinking of the dress.’
    Georgie flushed, and looked down at the pale peach-coloured halter-necked dress she had finally selected. Even with her limited wardrobe it had taken her half an hour.
    ‘It’s too much, isn’t it?’ she fretted, smoothing the light fabric over her slender hips. ‘I knew it was. I’ll go and change.’
    Ruth laughed. ‘Don’t be silly, you look lovely. Whether it’s too much rather depends on what reaction you want to get?’
    ‘I was aiming towards a sharp intake of breath,’ Georgie admitted.
    ‘Oh, I think you’ll get that. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is there a reconciliation on the cards?’
    ‘I don’t mind you asking and, no, there isn’t.’
    If anyone had asked her yesterday if she nursed any hope of them ever getting back together, Georgie would have been able to give a very definite no way in reply, and mean it.
    Yesterday she hadn’t opened that envelope.
    Reading the contents of a letter that explained with surgical precision that your husband wanted a divorce was a bad time to realise that in some secret corner of your heart you had clung onto hope. Foolish, irrational hope that one day… She took a deep breath. She knew that she was better off without that sort of hope.
    ‘Actually, Angolos wants a divorce.’ She had the horrid suspicion that her extremely casual attitude wasn’t fooling Ruth for a minute. ‘That’s why he’s come in person. I suspect there’s someone else.’ Maybe Sonia…? It would certainly please his family if he got back with his first wife.
    If not Sonia, there would be someone. A highly sexed and incredibly good-looking man like Angolos was never going to be celibate. She had come to terms with this.
    Sure you have.
    ‘I think it might be serious,’ she heard herself say.
    Ruth’s brow furrowed. ‘Now that does surprise me.’
    ‘Not me; I’ve been expecting it.’ Georgie gave her best carefree smile and wished she’d not revealed her suspicions to the older woman. ‘The only thing that surprises me is it’s taken him this long. Actually I think it’ll be a good thing…making it official will give us proper closure.’
    The other woman nodded and murmured agreement, but Georgie could see that she didn’t believe a word. Embarrassed, she turned away. ‘I won’t be long,’ she promised huskily.
    About as long as it took to say goodbye.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    ANGOLOS watched Georgie walk towards him along the beach with the graceful, long-legged stride he remembered so well. She carried her sandals in one hand slung over her shoulder in exactly the same way she always had. He was not a man inclined to nostalgia, but it was hard not to make a depressing comparison to the past.
    Then, when she had caught sight of him her face would light up like a kid on Christmas morning and she would break into a run as though every second apart from him was one too many. Now when she saw him, and he recognised the precise moment, the only place she looked like running was in the opposite direction! You could almost hear her inner struggle as she covered the remaining distance.
    Some irrational part of him wanted to make her smile at him that way again. Was it the same irrational part of him that had been tempted, albeit briefly, not to question her pregnancy? Then sense had prevailed and his pride had reasserted itself.
    That he had contemplated, even for a moment, living a lie and bringing up another man’s child, accepting his wife’s infidelity,