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He turned and opened his eyes, blinking at her profile in the lamplight, trying to figure out if she was too upset to sleep.

She twisted her neck to look at him, distress clouding her expression. “I’m ovulating.”

Reed’s stomach clenched. He only just stopped himself from cursing out loud.

Of all the asinine timing.

How could people be expected to live like this?

“Right,” he said with a nod, keeping his voice as controlled as possible.

He slid closer to her, reached over her and turned off her lamp, slipping the thermometer out of her hand to place it on the nightstand.

They’d made love hundreds, maybe thousands of times. They could do it now. Piece of cake.

He left his arm draped around her and burrowed his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. Once, twice, three times, giving them both a chance to get used to the idea of making love.

Her hair was soft against his cheek, and he ran his hand through it, letting his subconscious kick in and memories wash over him. Her scent was one of the first things he’d loved about her. He remembered dancing under the stars, on the cruise in the harbor, the warm June winds flowing over them as she swayed in his arms in that red dress.

Two minutes into the dance, he knew. He knew he was going to love her, knew he was going to marry her, knew he was going to spend the rest of his life taking care of this funny, gorgeous, intoxicating woman.

Now, he kissed the tender skin of her neck. He trailed his fingertips down the satin of her gown, pressing his warm palm against her abdomen. He kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, then moved to her earlobe, drawing the soft flesh between his lips.

He wanted to tell her he loved her, but things were too tenuous between them. He was building a fragile peace, a respite in the midst of the tough conversation that would have to take place in the next few days. He couldn’t hope for more than that.

He fluttered his fingertips along the curve of her waist, up her ribcage, skimming the side of her breast. Desire was slowly but surely thickening his blood. He could feel his breathing deepen and the stirrings of need work their way though his body.

He stroked her shoulder, slipping off the strap of her gown. Then he made his way down her arm, over her wrist, intending to twine their fingers together as one.

But he found a fist.

A tense, tightly clasped fist.

He jerked back to look at her face.

Her eyes were scrunched tight, her forehead creased and her jaw clenched shut.

“Son of a bitch!” He vaulted off the bed.

Her eyes few open, and he was horrified at the grit, determination and aversion in their depths.

He was not forcing himself on a martyr. No matter what the cause, no matter what the rationale.

“This is a marriage,” he choked out, “not some stud farm.”

He grabbed his bathrobe, striding for the guest bedroom.

Alone in the bed, Elizabeth had cried herself to sleep. She’d wanted to make love, wanted desperately to make a baby. But their argument had replayed over and over in her mind while Reed caressed her, until it had shrouded her love for him, and his touch had felt empty.

She knew it would go away. Intellectually, she knew that only minutes or hours would have to pass before she felt secure in his arms once again. But she’d needed some time before lovemaking.

She’d finally fallen asleep in the early morning hours. Then she woke to the sound of the vacuum, and she knew their housekeeper had arrived, and Reed had gone to work.

Part of her couldn’t believe he’d left without waking her to make love. But then she remembered his expression as he’d stormed out of the bedroom. She’d angered him. And maybe she’d hurt him. He had, after all, tried valiantly to put the fight behind them and make love.

She was the one who had failed.

She flipped off the covers, showered, dressed and took her car to the Wellington International office tower on Fifth Avenue.

She rode the elevator to the executive floor and paced through the marble foyer without giving herself a chance to hesitate. She’d apologize to Reed. Not for the fight, but for staying so emotional afterward. She was past it now, and she’d tell him so.

If worst came to worst, she’d flash the lacy black camisole she was wearing under her coat dress. She had thigh-high stockings to match, and she’d put on the skimpiest, sexiest pair of panties she could find in her drawer. She wasn’t above a little seduction. And there was a fine hotel right across the street.

“Elizabeth.” Reed’s secretary, Devon, rose from her chair. She shot a quick, uncertain glance at the window through to Reed’s corner office. “Is Reed expecting you?”

“It’s a surprise,” Elizabeth admitted. She hoped a good surprise.

Devon shot another glance at his office, and there was something strange in her expression. “Let me give him a call.”

Elizabeth glanced through the window and saw a woman’s profile. She had spiky black hair and wore a dark blazer.

“You wife is here,” Devon said into the phone.

There was a split second’s delay, and then the woman shot a guilty glance through the window at Elizabeth. She immediately came to her feet.

“Who’s that?” Elizabeth asked Devon.

“She’s a job applicant,” Devon replied, busying herself with some papers on top of her desk.

Something in the atmosphere made Elizabeth feel awkward. “I hope I’m not disturbing something.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” said Devon.

The door to Reed’s office opened, and the woman came out first. She was a strong, no-nonsense type, about five foot seven, with short cropped hair, classic clothes and a self-confident stride.

She nodded to Elizabeth as she passed, leaving a clean hint of a coconut shampoo in her wake.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” said Reed, and Elizabeth turned back to face her husband.

“Surprise,” said Elizabeth, with a smile for Devon’s benefit.

He gestured to the open office door, and she preceded him inside.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she offered as he latched the door.

“Not a problem.” He indicated a pair of leather chairs in one corner of the room, bracketing a low table.

“Who was she?” Elizabeth asked.

Reed waited for her to sit down. “Who?”

“The woman who just left. Devon said—”

“She’s a client,” Reed said hurriedly.

Elizabeth froze, a terrible feeling creeping into her empty stomach. He was lying. Why was he lying?

“What kind of a client?”

Reed waved a dismissive hand. “She owns a chain of furniture stores on the West Coast.”

Elizabeth nodded, depression settling on her shoulders.

“Did you need something?” Reed asked, tone formal and polite.

I need my husband back.

She was suddenly at a loss. Did she make the proposition? Did she carry on with the seduction plan? Could she bring herself to make love with him knowing he was lying?

“Sweetheart?” he prompted, his tone more intimate.

“I felt bad about last night.” She made her decision in a rush.

“The job?”

She shook her head. “The … other.”

“Oh.”

She grasped her purse with both hands. “I was thinking, maybe we could.” She glanced around, moistening her dry lips. “Make up for lost time.”

He blinked at her.

She forced herself to boldly keep his gaze.

“You’re not seriously suggesting we make love here?

“The Oak Castle.” She named the hotel across the street.

He glanced at his watch.

“Should I have made an appointment?” she asked tightly.

“Gage and Trent are due in ten minutes.”

“Cancel.”

“Elizabeth.” He held up his palms.

“It’s time, Reed.”

“It’ll wait until tonight.”

“But we should have done it last night.” The words were out before she could think about how they sounded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his gaze going hard. “We should have.”

She stood then, feeling supremely stupid for having dug out her black lingerie for a workaholic husband. She didn’t know why she had expected today to be any different from other days. Reed was a busy man. He fit her in when he could fit her in, and she’d best not ask for more than that.

He immediately stood with her.

“Goodbye then,” she offered, turning for the door, struggling to cope with the hurt of his rejection.

But before she could take a step, an unruly little voice urged her to show him what he’d missed. She fought it for a moment, but then decided to get the last word.

Popping the four buttons on her dress, she turned back and jerked it open.

Reed’s eyes went wide and he sucked in an involuntary breath.

“Enjoy your meeting,” she told him, redoing the buttons, flouncing out of the office and closing the door before he found his voice.

On impulse, she stopped at Devon’s desk. “What was the job?” she asked.

Devon looked confused.

“The woman Reed was interviewing. What was the job?”

“Oh.” Devon paused. “Accounting.” “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Elizabeth marched to the elevator, meeting Gage and Trent coming the other way. At least the part about the meeting with them was true. Elizabeth didn’t know what she would have done if he’d lied about everything.

The elevator doors closed, and the express car whooshed smoothly downward. Truth was, she didn’t know what she was going to do about any of it at all. Reed was lying to her. He was lying to her about a woman. She seemed like a woman of substance rather than style, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but note the contrast between them.

Four

Frustration was evident on the face of Reed Anton Wellington II, “Anton” to his close friends, “Mr. Wellington” or “Sir” to most, and “Father” to Reed.

“And you’re saying Kendrick never called, never suggested, never even hinted—”

“Never,” Reed confirmed, closing the library door in his parents’ Long Island mansion. “Not once, not ever.”

“It’s things like this that can impact the firm.”

“I know that, Father.”

“It’s things like this that can lose millions of dollars.”

“I know that, too.” Did Reed’s father honestly think the broader impact of the SEC investigation were lost on Reed?

Anton moved behind his desk. “You have a good lawyer? You’ll cooperate fully?”

“Of course I’ll cooperate fully. I have nothing to hide.”

Anton stared silently from beneath bushy eyebrows, and a frightening thought percolated in Reed’s mind.

“You know I have nothing to hide, right?”

“You wouldn’t be the first to succumb to temptation.”

Reed was stunned to hear the words from his own father’s mouth. “You think I would cheat?”

“I think you have a lot of pride. I think you’re very driven to succeed.”

“Wonder where I got that from,” Reed muttered.

“I need to know what we’re dealing with,” said Anton.

Reed took a step toward the wide desk. “We’re dealing with an innocent man accused of insider trading, and a ten million dollar blackmail attempt.”

“Can you prove the blackmail?”

“I’m the third person in my building to be a victim.”

“That’s not proof.”

“No, but the police are working on it. If they find the blackmailer, the SEC will most certainly drop the charges.”

“Do they need more manpower?”

Reed shook his head. “I have my own investigation underway, and Collin’s put together a legal team.”

“Never was too fond of Collin.”

“He graduated top of his class in Harvard Law.”

“On a scholarship.”

“Father, people who receive scholarships are every bit as capable as those who donate them.”

Anton harrumphed. “Genetics isn’t nothing.”

“Don’t go there,” Reed warned.

“How is Elizabeth?”

Reed threw up his hands. “I swear to you, I am walking out that door.”

“I just asked a question.”

“You just linked Elizabeth with the middle class. Therefore, in your opinion poor genetics. Don’t try to deny it.”

“All right. I won’t deny it. How is she?”

Sexy as hell, frustrated as hell, probably mad as hell since it was nearly eight-thirty and Reed wasn’t home yet. “She’s fine.”

Anton moved to the wide, oak bar and uncorked a decanter of scotch. “You mother and I keep waiting for you to announce that you’re expecting.”

“I know you do.”

When he had two fingers of scotch in each crystal glass, Anton turned back. “Any particular reason why you’re not?”

“We’ll have children when we’re ready.”

“Your mother’s anxious.”

“Mother’s been anxious since I was eighteen.”

“And now you’re thirty-four.” He handed Reed a glass of scotch. “You can see why the situation is getting worse.”

Reed tried to imagine himself explaining the fertility issues to either of his parents. But he couldn’t make the picture form in his brain. Not that he would compromise Elizabeth’s privacy in any case, especially not to his parents. She was already intimidated by their opinion of anyone outside their tax bracket.

He downed the single malt. “I have to get home.”

“I can have somebody from Preston Gautier sit down with Collin.”

“Collin’s fine,” said Reed. “It’s all under control.”

At least the SEC investigation was under control. The same couldn’t be said of the blackmail. And the same certainly couldn’t be said of his current situation with Elizabeth.

Reed could still picture the sexy underwear she’d flashed him in his office. If his meeting had been about anything other than her security and the blackmail case, he’d have chased after her like an eager pup. He’d considered doing it anyway. But then Gage and Trevor arrived, and the real world had closed in.

Elizabeth was on her third margarita in Hanna’s downtown loft, blocking out the real world and taking the edge off her humiliation.

“You actually flashed him?” Hanna’s laugh was rife with disbelief. “Right there in the Wellington International office?”

“I was wearing underwear,” Elizabeth pointed out, stretching out on her stomach on Hanna’s leather couch. Hanna was already lounging sideways in an armchair, her shoes kicked off, feet swaying, the slushy drink dangling from her fingers.

“Ever done anything like that before?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“Bet he was surprised.”

Elizabeth nearly giggled at the memory. “I’m pretty sure he was speechless.”

“I bet.”

Elizabeth’s smile faded. She realized the margaritas must be strong or she wouldn’t be finding any of this even remotely funny. “I think I was jealous.”

“Of what?”

Elizabeth took another sip of the drink. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy. But there was an attractive woman in his office when I got there. He lied about her.” She sat up, swinging her feet around to the floor. “He told me she was a client. Devon told me she was a job applicant.”

“Uh-oh.” Hanna’s swinging feet came to a halt.

A few beats went by in silence.

“You think he’s having an affair?” asked Elizabeth.

“I absolutely do not,” Hanna said with conviction.

“Why would he lie?”

“This is Reed we’re talking about. He is not screwing around on his wife.”

“Reed’s human.”

“You have one lie. One little lie, that might not even be a lie. What if Devon made a mistake? What if she thought the mystery woman was a job applicant, and she really was a client?”

“Devon is a crackerjack assistant. She doesn’t make mistakes like that.”

“Still,” said Hanna. “The evidence is way too flimsy to start thinking infidelity.”

“What about this?” Elizabeth stood, struggling with her balance for a split second. “Pretend you’re a man.” She flicked open one of the buttons on her dress. “You’re a man, and you haven’t had sex in three weeks.” She flicked another. “Your wife—your ovulating wife—walks into your office.” She flicked the last two. “And flashes this.”

Elizabeth opened the coat dress to reveal her sexy lingerie ensemble.

“Wow,” said Hanna in obvious awe.

Elizabeth closed the dress. “Does it take a team of wild oxen to keep you away from me? Or is a routine meeting enough to do it?”

“Wild oxen,” said Hanna. “Damn, you’re in good shape.”

“It’s the spa membership, my personal trainer.”

“I want to join that spa.”

Both women went silent as Elizabeth buttoned up and sat back down.

“I still think you’re wrong,” said Hanna.

Elizabeth desperately wanted to believe Hanna. But there was a sick feeling deep down in her soul that warned her something was going on.

Just then, her cell phone chimed on the table, and she saw it was Reed. She made no move to answer.

“He must be wondering where you are,” said Hanna.

“Let him wonder.” It chimed again.

“He’ll be worried.”

“Serves him right.”

Hanna moved from the chair and sat down next to her. “Promise me something?”

It chimed a third time.

“What?” asked Elizabeth, clasping her hands together, fighting the urge to answer Reed’s call.

“Promise me you’ll believe it’s nothing until it’s not.” Hanna reached out to squeeze her hands. “He’s a good man, Elizabeth. And he loves you.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, nodded, and reached for the phone, pressing the pickup button.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Reed demanded, his tone catching Elizabeth off guard.

Her softer feelings for him evaporated. “I’m flashing my underwear for somebody who appreciates it.”

There was absolute silence on Reed’s end.

Hanna snatched the phone from Elizabeth’s hand and raised it to her ear. “Reed, it’s Hanna. I’m really sorry. I think I gave Elizabeth one too many margaritas.” After a pause, she said, “No. I won’t let her drive.” She handed the phone back to Elizabeth.

“Hello, darling,” said Elizabeth, then she hiccupped.

“You’re drunk?”

“A little,” she admitted. Not that it changed the facts. Reed was in all likelihood cheating on a drunken spouse, that was all.

“I’m sending a car,” he told her.

“Are you drunk, too?”

“No, I’m not drunk.”

“But you’re not coming yourself?”

“I’m in Long Island. I just left my parents’.”

“And if I called them?” Elizabeth couldn’t help but challenge. Maybe he was in Long Island, or maybe he was holed up in a hotel room somewhere.

“Why would you call them?”

“I don’t know. To say hi. Whatever.”

“Elizabeth, it’s time for you to stop drinking.”

“Sure.” She was feeling a little dizzy anyway. And a hangover wouldn’t help the job search. And, sex or no sex tonight, she was finding herself a job in the morning and getting started on her very own life.

Reed waited in the lobby for Elizabeth’s car to arrive. Henry was behind his desk, looking nervous about something. The man’s gaze twitched from Reed, to the back of the lobby, then out to the sidewalk. Strange.

But then the dark sedan pulled up, and Reed hustled through the double doors to meet Elizabeth.

He helped her upstairs and into the penthouse, tossed her coat on the sofa and took her straight through to the bedroom. There he gently laid her back on their bed and slipped off her shoes.

“You know,” she sighed, her eyes closed, hair disheveled, one of her sexy stockings drooping down. “It shouldn’t be this hard for two married people to have sex.”

“No,” he agreed. “It shouldn’t be this hard.” While she lay with her eyes closed, breathing deeply, he gently removed her jewelry and unbuttoned her dress, his breath catching at the sight of her camisole and skimpy panties.

“Reed?”

“Yes?”

“Promise me something?”

He raised his gaze to her sweet, relaxed expression. “Of course.”

“If I fall asleep—” She stopped.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Let’s make love anyway.”

He shook his head, allowing himself a tired smile. “Like that’s going to happen.”

“Good,” she said with a smile of her own.

He leaned down. “Elizabeth, I’m telling you no.”

The smile turned to a frown. “You’re always telling me no.”

“I never tell you no.”

She had him well and truly wrapped around her little finger. There was almost nothing he could deny her.

“I got all dressed up,” she complained.

His gaze dipped down to the black lace highlighting her cleavage. “That, you did.”

“Hanna said I looked sexy.”

He grinned. “Just how drunk are you?”

She giggled. Then she tilted her chin in determination. “I am getting a job.”

“We’ll talk about that in the morning.”

Her expression changed, and she reached out to him. “Please, make me pregnant tonight.” And then her arms went limp, slinking down to the bed, and her body relaxed into sleep.

“Not like this,” he whispered, smoothing back her hair and kissing her on the forehead. “Never like this.”

He gently removed the rest of her clothes, and tucked her under the covers, stepping back to gaze at her beauty and vulnerability. His cell phone rang, and he quickly opened it, afraid of disturbing her. But she didn’t even stir.

Still, he kept his voice low and moved out of the room. “Hello?”

“It’s Collin. Selina’s at my place.”

Reed glanced at his watch. Nine-thirty. “Is anything wrong?”

“Can you come down?”

“Why don’t you come up here. Elizabeth’s asleep.” For some reason, Reed didn’t want to leave her alone right now.

“Good enough. Be right up,” said Collin, signing off.

Reed pocketed his cell phone then pulled the bedroom door closed. Odds were, they’d completely missed their window of opportunity for this month. Because, he expected it to be twenty-four hours before Elizabeth was feeling remotely romantic again.

And she’d be upset about that.

Well, he was upset, too.

In fact, he was beginning to feel bone weary. The blackmail, the murder, the SEC, all the usual problems at Wellington International. Added to that, his father’s values and the persistent infertility trouble were wearing him down. He needed to fix something, anything. But he was operating on every front and, so far, it was to no avail.

For the first time in Reed’s life, he wondered if hard work and ingenuity would be enough.

There was a light knock on the front door, and he crossed the foyer to answer it, escorting Collin and Selina to his home office where they took seats around a polished black table.

Reed directed the conversation. “I thought you had somebody on Elizabeth,” he told Selina.

She looked startled. “I do.”

“She went downtown today. I need a report on things like that.”

She jotted down a note in her book. “Sure.”

Collin looked at him strangely. “Did something happen while Elizabeth was downtown?” he asked.

“She visited a friend. But I didn’t know where she was.”

“Just to be clear,” Selina added. “Do you want a report on Mrs. Wellington’s daily activities or on potential threats?”

Reed took in the expressions on their faces. “I’m not spying on my wife,” he protested. But neither did he want her wandering around drunk downtown when there might be a murderer on the loose.

“Perhaps if we changed the nature of the operation,” suggested Selina. “Put Joe a little closer to Mrs. Wellington. Say, as her driver? That way, he doesn’t have to stay concealed, and he can report to you at intervals.”

“I like it,” said Reed. “What else do you have?”

“Kendrick,” said Collin.

“You found him?”

Collin shook his head. “He’s still in Washington, elusive as ever. But some more information has come to light.”

“Does it help us?”

Collin and Selina glanced at each other.

“Unfortunately,” said Collin, “Hammond and Pysanski also invested in Ellias and made a bundle.”

“But, they’re—”

“Kendrick’s former business partners.”

Reed rocked back in his chair.

“It does look pretty bad,” said Selina.

Reed couldn’t help but defend himself. “Do you honestly think that if I were going to put together a conspiracy to insider trade, that this would be my master plan? A senator giving a heads up on a contract award to four of his closest associates, hoping nobody would notice? It’s lame-ass. It’s beyond stupid.”

Collin leaned forward, eyes hard as he mimicked Reed. “‘I’m a smarter criminal than that, Your Honor.’ Is that really going to be the cornerstone of your defense?”

“You got a better one?”

“Not at the moment. But if I don’t come up with something better than that, Harvard Law School wasted a lot of time and money on me.”

“I want this behind me,” Reed growled. “There are problems cropping up in the Irish merger, and Germany is talking about changing their safety standards. I don’t have time for distractions.”

“I’m meeting with the SEC tomorrow,” said Selina.

“Take Collin with you.”

Something twitched in her expression.

“What?” asked Reed.

She hesitated. “Sometimes Collin cramps my style.”

Reed felt his hands curl involuntarily into fists. “There are problems between you two?”

“Stylistic differences,” said Collin.

“I take a tough stance. He undermines it.”

Reed glanced from one to the other. “You’re kidding me?” With all they were facing, these two couldn’t get together on their interview techniques?

“Work it out. I want you both in that meeting.”

Selina’s gaze slid to Collin. He nodded, then so did she.

“Have Joe stop at the office in the morning,” said Reed, wrapping things up. “I’ll bring him by and introduce him to Elizabeth.”

Morning was not kind to Elizabeth.

Rain spattered on the penthouse roof, tapping against her bedroom balcony doors, pounding its way into her fragile skull. She pulled the comforter over her head, praying her housekeeper, Rena, wasn’t planning to vacuum today.

Slamming back margaritas on an empty stomach had obviously been a bad idea. It had been a few years since Elizabeth had gotten drunk. And, right now, she was sure it would be many more years before she indulged in more than two drinks in an evening. She blinked open one bleary eye, squinting at the alarm clock. Nine-fifty-two.

She spotted a large glass of water on the nightstand. Sitting next to it were two aspirin tablets. Bless Reed.

She wiggled herself into a sitting position and took the pills. If she could sleep until they kicked in, she’d have a fighting chance of surviving this hangover.

Bless Reed, she thought again. She could forgive him anything at the moment. Well, almost anything.

Though, in the cold light of day, she realized it was unlikely he was having an affair. It wasn’t so much her confidence in the strength of their relationship. It was more her knowledge of his core values and principles.

Reed wouldn’t cheat.

Even if he wanted to cheat, his honor and principles wouldn’t let him.

The rain pulsed harder on the window. She pressed her fingers into her ears and buried her face in the feather pillow, conjuring images of the night before.

Hanna had blended up some fine margaritas, and she’d handed out some sage and practical advice. Plus, it had felt just plain good for Elizabeth to get her anxiety off her chest.

But then Reed had called and annoyed her. Still, when he’d helped her to bed, she’d remembered all the reasons she’d fallen in love with him in the first place. So she’d propositioned him, because time was running out.

Now, she groaned. Time really was running out, and she had no memory past asking to make love last night. She was pretty sure she’d remember it if it had happened.

So, she wasn’t pregnant. And it was day three of ovulation. But she didn’t think she could even drag herself out of bed at the moment, never mind seduce her husband.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the downpour turned torrential. But slowly, ever so slowly, the sound of the raindrops stopped hurting her brain. They became soothing, and the pain went from sharp to dull.

She drifted in and out for an hour, then forced herself to throw off the covers, pulling gingerly into a sitting position. She was tired, but at least she was mobile.

She showered and dressed, and applied a little concealer to disguise the dark circles under her eyes.

She wasn’t quite ready for a workout at the gym, but she needed to get the blood flowing somehow. The rain was steady, so a walk was out of the question. She needed to find something to do inside.

The penthouse was empty. Rena was likely out running errands and would be home soon. She didn’t like it when Elizabeth cleaned. Baking was acceptable, but baking would fill the suite with aromas.

Not good.

Elizabeth glanced around for inspiration. She caught sight of the living room bookshelf. There was an idea. She could sort through her books, maybe donate some of the older ones to the library. And Reed had hundreds shelved in his office. She’d call Rena on her cell and get her to pick up some cardboard boxes on her way home.

Perfect.

After gathering a sizable pile in the living room, she moved to the office.

Reed liked the occasional mystery or thriller, the kind of book that you didn’t reread once you knew the ending. She tugged a couple of his volumes from the eye level shelves and carried them to the black meeting table.

There she paused, wrinkling her nose, trying to identify an unusual smell. It wasn’t dust, not leather, not furniture polish. Where had she …

Coconut.

She staggered back in shock.

That woman in Reed’s office had smelled of coconut.

“Elizabeth?” Reed called from the entry hall.

The coconut woman had been in the penthouse? Her penthouse? Her home?

“What’s with the books?”

She could hear his footsteps starting down the hall.

What did she do? Ignore it? Confront him? Look for more evidence?

Was this why he hadn’t made love with her last night? Or yesterday? Or last week?

“There you are.” He came around the corner and smiled. “Feeling okay?”

She stared at him in silence, trying to reconcile the man she knew with such reprehensible behavior. While she was desperately trying to save their marriage, had he already ended it?

“There’s somebody I want you to meet,” said Reed, coming fully into the room.

Türler ve etiketler

Yaş sınırı:
0+
Hacim:
441 s. 2 illüstrasyon
ISBN:
9781408980439
Telif hakkı:
HarperCollins
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