Not that there weren’t some benefits for him. He’d had so much free sex during his early playing days that he’d lost his appetite for promiscuity. He also wasn’t stupid, and he had no interest in taking chances with groupies. But despite Valerie’s kinky little scenarios, sex hadn’t been much fun for a long time.

He knew now that the two of them had been incompatible from the beginning, but they had generated so much sexual heat that neither of them had noticed until they’d made the mistake of getting married. Valerie had been initially fascinated by his rough edges and fierce aggressiveness, the same qualities that had later driven her crazy. And her breeding and sophistication had been irresistible to a kid who’d grown up dirt-poor in backwoods Alabama. But he had soon discovered that she had no sense of humor and no desire for the family life he craved.

Her latest tirade against him was beginning to wind down, and he remembered that he had a score of his own to settle. “While we’re airing our grievances here, Valerie, I’m going to dish out one of my own. If you give any more interviews like that one last week, your lawyer’s going to get a phone call from mine, and this won’t be a friendly divorce any longer.”

She refused to meet his eyes. “It was a mistake.”

“It’s like I tell the team. There’s no such thing as mistakes—only a lack of foresight.”

He had been intimidating people with his physical size for so long that it had become automatic, and he instinctively moved closer until he was hovering over her. “I don’t appreciate public discussions of our breakup, and I’m not crazy about having anybody but sportswriters call me a borderline psychopath.”

She began to fiddle with the lace on the front of her negligee. “It was an off-the-record remark. The reporter should never have printed it.”

“You shouldn’t have made the remark in the first place. From now on when anybody asks you about our divorce, you restrict yourself to the same two words I always use when I get interviewed. ‘Irreconcilable differences.’ “

“You sound like you’re threatening me.” She was trying to work up a good lather, but she couldn’t quite manage it, so he knew she was feeling guilty.

“I’m just reminding you that a lot of men in this town aren’t going to keep voting for a woman that bad-mouths an ex-husband who once completed twenty-nine passes against the 49ers’ defense in a single afternoon.”

“All right! I’m sorry. I’d just talked to you on the phone, and you’d irritated me.”

“Valerie, I irritate you all the time, so don’t use that as an excuse to go for my jugular.”

She wisely changed the subject. “I heard Bert’s funeral was quite entertaining. It’s too bad all his old mistresses weren’t there so they could have seen that dog pee on his coffin.” Valerie smiled in her thin-lipped way. “There is a God after all. And She watches out for Her own.”