8
As Angus walked into my office, I looked up from the e-mail I was reading. He held his hat in his hands and came to a stop in front of my desk.
“I went through Terrence Lucas’s office last night,” he said. “I didnae find anything.”
I hadn’t expected him to, so wasn’t surprised. “It’s possible Hugh told Anne what he knows and there are no records to be found.”
He nodded grimly. “While I was at it, I deleted all traces of Eva’s appointment on both their onsite hard drives and backups. I also wiped the video footage of you and Eva being there. I checked and he never asked security for a copy, so you should be fine if he takes his wife’s cue and files any complaints of his own.”
That was Angus, always taking all possibilities into consideration.
“Wouldn’t the police find that interesting?” I sat back. “The Lucases have as much to lose as I do.”
“They’re culpable, lad. You’re not.”
“It’s never that simple.”
“You have everything you’ve wanted and deserve. They cannae take anything from you.”
Except my self-respect and the respect of my friends and colleagues. I’d worked so hard to regain both in the aftermath of my father’s very public disgrace. Those who wanted to find weaknesses in me would be satisfied. That didn’t alarm me as much as it once would have.
Angus was right. I’d made my fortune and I had Eva.
If securing her peace of mind meant retreating from public scrutiny, I could do it. It was something I’d taken into consideration when Nathan Barker was still a threat. Eva had been willing to hide our relationship from the world to spare me from any possible scandal stemming from her past. It was a sacrifice I hadn’t been willing to make. Hiding. Sneaking moments together. Pretending for others that we weren’t falling deeply and irrevocably in love.
It was different now. She’d become as necessary as air. Protecting her happiness was more crucial than ever. I knew what it felt like to be judged for the sins of someone else and I would never put my wife through that. Contrary to her belief, I could live without having my hand in everything Cross Industries was involved in.
I wouldn’t spend my days in a damned loincloth role-playing Tarzan, but there was a comfortable medium between the two extremes.
“You warned me about Anne.” I shook my head. “I should’ve listened to you.”
He shrugged that off. “What’s done is done. Anne Lucas is a grown woman. She’s old enough to take responsibility for her decisions.”
What are you doing, lad? he’d asked, as Anne slid into the back of the Bentley that first night. In the weeks that followed, he made his disapproval more and more clear until one day, he raised his voice to me. Disgusted with myself for punishing a woman who’d done nothing to me, I’d taken it out on him, telling him to remember his place.
The brief look of pain he’d quickly hidden would haunt me to my grave.
“I’m sorry,” I said, holding his gaze. “For how I handled it.”
A small smile crinkled the lines on his face. “The apology isn’t necessary, but I accept it.”
“Thank you.”
Scott’s voice came through the speaker. “The PosIT team is here. I also have Arnoldo Ricci on the line for you. He says it won’t take long.”
I looked at Angus to see if he had anything further for me. He tapped his brow in a casual salute and left.
Speaking to Scott, I said, “Put him through.”
I waited for the red light to flash, then opened the line on speaker. “Where are you now?”
“Hello to you, too, my friend,” Arnoldo greeted, his voice accented with the notes of Italy. “I hear I missed you and Eva at the restaurant this week.”
“We had an excellent lunch.”
“Ah, it is the only kind we serve. We are not so bad with dinner, either.”
I rocked back in my chair. “You’re in New York?”
“Yes, and planning your bachelor party, which is why I’m calling. If you have plans this weekend, cancel them.”
“Eva and I will be out of town.”
“She will be out of town. In fact, out of the country, from what I understand from Shawna. And you will be out of town, too. The rest of the guys are in agreement with me. We are going to force you to leave New York for a change.”
I was so taken aback by the first part of what Arnoldo said that I hardly heard the last. “Eva isn’t leaving the country.”
“You’ll have to take that up with her and her friends,” he said smoothly. “As for us, we are going to Rio.”
I found myself standing. Damn it. Eva wasn’t in the Crossfire. I couldn’t just take an elevator and find her.
“I’m going to ask Scott to arrange the flight,” he continued. “We’ll leave Friday evening and plan to return Monday in time for you to go to work, if you are ambitious enough.”
“Where is Eva going?”
“I have no idea. Shawna wouldn’t say, because it’s not for you to know. She told me only that they would be gone for the weekend and I should plan on keeping you occupied, because Cary doesn’t want you to interfere.”
“That’s not his decision to make,” I snapped.
He paused. “Being angry at me won’t help you, Gideon. And if you don’t trust her, my friend, you shouldn’t be marrying her.”
My grip on the phone tightened. “Arnoldo, you’re the closest friend I have. But that’ll change if you don’t get your head out of your ass when it comes to Eva.”
“You mistake me,” he corrected hurriedly. “If you cage her for your own security, you will lose her. What is considered romantic in a boyfriend can be stifling in a husband.”
Realizing he was offering advice, I started counting to ten. I made it to seven. “I can’t believe this.”
“Don’t get me wrong. Arash assures me she is the best thing to ever happen to you. He says he has never seen you happier and that she adores you.”
“I’ve said the same.”
Arnoldo exhaled audibly. “Men in love do not make the best witnesses.”
Amusement replaced irritation. “Why are you and Arash discussing my personal life?”
“It is what friends do.”
“Girl friends. You’re grown men. You should have something better to do with your time.” I rapped my knuckles on the desktop. “And you want me to spend a weekend in Brazil with a bunch of guy gossips?”
“Listen.” His tone was annoyingly calm. “Manhattan is out. I love the city, too, but I think we’ve exhausted its charms. Especially for such an occasion.”
Chagrined, I looked out the windows at the city I loved. Only Eva knew about the hotel room I’d kept perpetually reserved—my “fuck pad,” as she’d called it. Until her, it was the only place where I took women for sex. It was safe. Impersonal. There was nothing to learn about me there but how I looked nude and how I liked to fuck.
Leaving New York meant I wouldn’t get laid, so of course I’d always insisted the guys keep our prowling close to home.
“All right. I won’t argue.” I was going to discuss it with Eva—and Cary—but that wasn’t Arnoldo’s concern.
“Excellent. I will let you get back to work. We can catch up this weekend.”
We ended the call. I looked over at Scott through the glass wall and lifted one finger, telling him I needed an additional minute of time. Picking up my smartphone, I called Eva.
“Hey, ace,” she answered, sounding flirty and happy.
I absorbed that, along with the punch of pleasure and heat that moved through me. Her voice, always throaty, was huskier than it had been lately. I was reminded of the long night, the sounds she made when aroused, her cries for me when she came.
It was a new goal of mine to keep her sounding like that eternally, to keep her skin flushed and her lips swollen, her stride slow and sultry because she could still feel me inside her. Wherever she went, it should be obvious that I fucked her often and thoroughly. It felt obvious on me. I was loose-limbed and relaxed, a bit weak in the knees—although I’d never admit it.
“Have our plans for the weekend changed?” I asked.
“I might increase my vitamins,” she teased, “but otherwise, no. I’m really looking forward to it.”
The purr in her voice aroused me. “I’ve been told our friends plan to keep us apart this weekend for our respective bachelor and bachelorette parties.”
“Oh.” There was a pause. “I was kinda hoping everyone forgot about that.”
My mouth curved in a smile I wished she could see. “We could run away where they can’t find us.”
“I wish.” She sighed. “I think these things are more for them than us. It’s their last chance to have us all to themselves in the way they’re used to.”
“Those days were over when I met you.” But I knew they weren’t yet over for Eva. She’d hung on to her independence, maintaining her friendships as she always had.
“It’s an odd sort of ritual, isn’t it?” she mused. “Two people commit to each other for life and their friends take them out, get them drunk, and encourage them to be bad one last time.”
All the sexy playfulness she’d had when the conversation started was gone. My wife was an intensely jealous woman. I knew that, accepted it, just as she accepted my possessiveness. “We’ll discuss this more tonight.”
“Yay,” she said, sounding anything but happy about it.
There was some consolation in that. I preferred to picture her suffering through a weekend without me rather than having the time of her life.
“I love you, Eva.”
Her breath caught. “I love you, too.”
Ending the call, I turned to retrieve my jacket from the coatrack, then changed my mind. I retraced my steps to my desk and called Cary.
“What’s up?” he answered.
“Where are you planning on taking my wife this weekend?”
He answered so quickly, I knew he’d been braced to hear from me. “You don’t need to know.”
“The hell I don’t.”
“I’m not going to have you controlling her,” Cary said tightly, “with guards cockblocking any dude that comes near her, like you did in Vegas. She’s a big girl. She can handle herself and she deserves to have fun.”
So that was what this was about. “There were extenuating circumstances then, Cary.”
“Really?” Sarcasm was heavy in his tone. “Like what?”
“Nathan Barker was still breathing and you’d just had a goddamned orgy in your living room. I couldn’t trust her safety to you.”
There was a pause. When he spoke again, his voice was markedly less heated. “Clancy’s covering security. She’ll be fine.”
I took a deep breath. Clancy and I were wary of each other, since he knew what I’d done to remove Nathan as a threat to Eva’s life. Regardless, we both wanted the same thing—for Eva to be happy and safe. I trusted him with her, knew him to be very good at his job running Stanton and Monica’s security.
I would talk to Clancy personally, put him in contact with Angus. Contingencies had to be planned for and communication aligned. If she needed me, I had to be able to get to her as swiftly as possible.
My gut tightened at the thought. “Eva needs her friends and I want her to enjoy herself.”
“Great,” he said airily. “We agree.”
“I won’t interfere, Cary, but keep in mind that no one’s as invested in keeping her safe as I am. She’s only part of your life. She is my life. Don’t be too stubborn to reach out to me if you need me. Is that clear?”
“Yeah. I get it.”
“If it helps you feel better, I’ll be in Brazil.”
He was quiet a minute. “I haven’t nailed down where we’re going yet, but I’m leaning toward Ibiza.”
I cursed silently. It would take half a day to get to her from Rio.
I wanted to argue—I would certainly be making some alternate suggestions for locales in South America—but I held my tongue for the moment, too aware of Dr. Petersen’s comments about Eva’s need for a wide social circle. Instead, I said, “Let me know what you decide.”
“Okay.”
Ending the call, I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on.
I was sure Eva and Dr. Petersen would disagree, but friends and family could be more of a pain in the ass than anything.
The rest of the afternoon passed as scheduled and planned. It was nearing five o’clock when Arash strolled in and settled comfortably on the nearest sofa, spreading his arms wide across the back.
I wrapped up my call with one of our distribution centers in Montreal and stood, stretching my legs. I was due for a session with my trainer, but he was going to kick my ass. I was sure Eva would be delighted to know she’d sapped my stamina.
Not that it would prevent me from having her again when the day was done.
“There’d better be a good reason why you’re making yourself at home,” I told Arash dryly, rounding my desk.
He flashed a cocky grin. “Deanna Johnson.”
My stride slowed, the name taking me by surprise. “What about her?”
Arash whistled. “You do know her.”
“She’s a freelance journalist.” I walked to the bar and pulled two chilled bottles of water out of the refrigerator. Deanna was also a woman I’d fucked, which turned out to be a colossal mistake in more ways than one.
“Okay. The hot blonde I bailed on last night?”
I shot him an impatient look. “Get on with it.”
“She works in the legal department of the publishing house that acquired the rights to Corinne’s book. She told me the ghostwriter is Deanna Johnson.”
I exhaled roughly, my hands squeezing the bottles so hard they leaked under the strain. “Damn it.”
My wife had warned me about Deanna and I hadn’t listened.
“Let me take a wild guess,” Arash drawled. “You know Ms. Johnson in the biblical sense.”
I turned and faced him, moving back to where he sat. I tossed a bottle at him, sending sprinkles of water arcing between us. Opening my own, I drank deeply.
Eva was right: We needed to be a better, more cohesive team. She and I were going to have to learn to trust—and take—each other’s advice implicitly.
My friend set his elbows on his knees, holding his water in both hands. “Now I see why you were in such a rush to get a ring on Eva. Seal the deal before she runs away screaming.”
Arash was joking, but I could see the concern on his face. It echoed my own. Really, how much could my wife take?
I pulled the bottle away from my lips. “Well, that’s a nice bit of news to wrap up the day,” I muttered.
“What is?”
Arash and I both turned our heads to discover Eva bouncing through the open door of my office with only her smartphone in her hands. She was dressed in the same workout gear she’d been wearing the day I first saw her. Her ponytail was lighter nowadays and shorter, her body leaner and more defined. But she would always be that girl who took my breath away.
“Eva.” Arash stood quickly.
“Hey.” She flashed him a smile as she came toward me, rising onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to my mouth. “Hi, ace.”
As she lowered back down, she frowned. “What’s wrong? Is it a bad time?”
I slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close. I loved the feel of her body against mine; it soothed the anxiousness I felt whenever we were apart. “Never, angel. You come to me whenever you want.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Megumi and I are going to hit the gym together, but I’m early, so figured I’d drop in on you. Grab a glimpse of your hotness to motivate me.”
I dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t wear yourself out,” I murmured. “That’s my job.”
There was a frown between her brows as I straightened. “Seriously. What’s the matter?”
Arash cleared his throat and gestured toward the door. “I’ll head back to my office.”
I answered her question before he left. “Deanna is ghostwriting Corinne’s book.”
Eva stiffened. “Is that so?”
“She knows about Deanna?” Arash looked at us both with wide eyes.
My wife pinned him with her gaze. “Do you know Deanna?”
He held up both hands. “Never met her. Never even heard of her before today.”
Stepping out of my embrace, Eva shot me a look. “I told you.”
“I know.”
“Told him what?” Arash asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.
She took my water bottle and dropped into a club chair. “That she couldn’t be trusted. She’s butthurt because he got her naked, then blew her off. Not that I blame her. I’d be totally humiliated if I showed the goods but couldn’t make the sale.”
Arash sat back down on the sofa. “You have performance problems, Cross?”
“You have your eye on unemployment, Madani?” I took the other chair.
“She’d already played hide-the-salami with Gideon once,” Eva went on. “And she really liked the salami. Can’t blame her there, either. I told you what a great lay he is.”
Arash glanced at me, highly amused. “You did, yes.”
“Blows the top of your head right off. Your toes curl and—”
“For fuck’s sake, Eva,” I muttered.
She looked at me innocently. “Just trying to give some context, baby. And give credit where it’s due. Anyway, poor Deanna is torn between hating his guts and wanting to bang him like a drum. Since she can’t do the latter, she’s stuck with the former.”
I looked at her. “Are you done?”
My wife blew me a kiss, then took a big swallow of water.
Arash sat back. “Props for laying that all out for her,” he said to me. “You’re a saint, Eva, for putting up with him and the trail of scorned women in his wake.”
“What can I say?” Her lips pursed. “How’d you guys find out?”
“I’ve got an inside connection at the publishing house.”
“Oh. I thought maybe Deanna said something.”
“She won’t. They don’t want it known that Corinne isn’t writing the book, so they’ve got a confidentiality clause. They’re negotiating the contract now.”
Eva sat forward, her fingers picking at the label on the bottle. Her phone buzzed on the chair by her thigh and she picked it up to read the text. “Off I go. Megumi’s ready.”
She stood. Arash and I stood with her. She was in my arms a moment later, tilting her head back for a kiss. I gave it to her, nuzzling my nose against hers before she retreated.
“You’re so lucky I came along.” She handed me back the water. “Think of how much more trouble you would’ve gotten into if you’d stayed single any longer.”
“You’re trouble enough for a lifetime.”
She said good-bye to Arash, then headed out. I watched her leave, hating to see her go. She waved to Scott as she passed him, then disappeared.
“She got any sisters?” Arash asked, as we both sat down again.
“No, she’s one of a kind.”
“Hey, wait,” Eva called out as she ran back in.
Arash and I both jumped to our feet.
She rejoined us. “If they’re negotiating, nothing’s been signed, right?”
“Right,” Arash answered.
She looked at me. “You can get her not to sign.”
My brows rose. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Offer her a job.”
I stared at her, then said, “No.”
“Don’t say no.”
“No,” I repeated.
My wife looked at Arash. “Your employee agreements include things like nondisclosure, nondisparagement, noncompetes, et cetera, right?”
Arash considered that a minute. “I see where you’re going, and yes, they do. But there are limitations as to what those clauses cover and how they can be enforced.”
“Better than nothing, though, maybe? Keep your enemies close and all that.” Her gaze turned to me expectantly.
“Don’t look at me like that, Eva.”
“Okay. It’s just an idea. I have to go.” She waved and hurried back out.
The lack of a kiss or good-bye rubbed me the wrong way. Seeing her leave again … I hated it more the second time.
She’d made me wait to have sex with her. She’d just casually suggested I seduce another woman.
The Eva I knew and loved would never have done either of those things.
“You don’t want that book published,” I called after her.
Eva stopped at the door and turned. She looked at me, her head tilting slightly. “No, I don’t.”
That examining look of hers got my back up. She saw right through me, saw the roiling inside me. “You know she’d expect me to offer her more than just a job.”
“You’d have to entice her,” she agreed, retracing her steps. “You’re a juicy carrot, Cross. And you know how to dangle out of reach without even trying. She just needs to sign on the dotted line. Afterward, you can transfer her to Siberia as long as you give her work that fits the job description.”
Something in her voice set me on edge—that and the way she looked at me like a lion tamer circling the lion, cautious and watchful but very much in control.
Provoked, I baited her. “You’re whoring me out to get what you want.”
“Jesus, Cross,” Arash muttered. “Don’t be an ass.”
Eva’s gaze narrowed, the clear gray of her eyes turning stormy. “Bullshit. You’d have to lead her on, not fuck her. I want that book published as much as you want to hear ‘Golden Girl’ on repeat, but you’re living with the damn song and I can live with the damn book.”
“Then why bring up hiring her?” I countered, taking a step toward her. “I don’t want that fucking woman within a mile of me, let alone working for me.”
“Fine. It was just a suggestion. I could tell you were upset about it when I got here and I don’t like you upset—”
“For Christ’s sake, I don’t get upset!”
“Right,” she drawled. “Of course not. You like bad-tempered better? Sullen? Moody? Are those more masculine for you, ace?”
“I should take you over my knee.”
“Try it and I’ll split your sexy lip,” she snapped back, her quick temper ignited. “You think I like the idea of you getting that bitch hot and bothered? Just imagining you flirting with her, giving her the idea you’d like to screw her, makes me want to break stuff—including her face.”
“Good.” I’d gotten what I needed. Eva couldn’t hide her jealousy when she was angry. She was seething with it, vibrating with fury. I, however, was appeased.
“And maybe Deanna dropping out won’t change anything,” she continued, still spitting mad. “The publisher could hire someone else to ghostwrite the fucking book. Hopefully someone unbiased, but hey, you’ve got ex-lovers crawling out of the woodwork, so they might get lucky again.”
“That’s enough, Eva.”
“I wouldn’t whore you out just to stop that book from being published. You’re the fuck of the century. I could get a few grand an hour for you, at least.”
“Goddamn it!” I lunged for her and she hopped out of the way.
“Whoa!” Arash interjected, jumping between us. “As your attorney, I have to point out that pissing off your wife could cost you millions.”
“He likes pissing women off,” she goaded, darting back and forth behind Arash to elude me. “It turns him on.”
“Get out of the way, Madani,” I growled.
“He’s all yours, Arash,” she tossed out, then made a break for it.
I gave chase. I caught her as she passed through the doors, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her off her feet. She struggled, growling.
I sank my teeth into her shoulder and she squealed, drawing a dozen pairs of eyes our way. Including Megumi’s as she rounded the corner at just the right moment.
“Kiss me good-bye,” I demanded.
“You don’t want my mouth anywhere near you right now!”
Tossing her up, I spun her in midair and brought her down facing me, catching her mouth in a hard kiss. It was sloppy, graceless. Our noses bumped. But the feel of her mouth under mine, her warm skin beneath my hands, was just what I needed.
She nipped my bottom lip with her teeth. She could’ve hurt me, drawn blood. Instead the bite was a gentle scold, as was the tug of my hair in her fists.
“You’re crazy,” she complained. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
“Don’t leave without kissing me good-bye.”
“Are you for real?” She glared at me. “I did kiss you.”
“The first time. Not the second or third.”
“Well, fuck me sideways,” she breathed. Tightening her grip on my neck, she pulled herself up and wrapped her legs around my waist. “Why didn’t you just ask?”
“I won’t beg.”
“You never do.” She touched my face. “You give orders. Don’t stop now.”
“The stuff you get away with when you’re the boss,” Megumi said to Scott, who sat at his desk with his gaze studiously fixed on his monitor.
Scott wisely said nothing.
Arash, however, wasn’t as circumspect. “Temporary insanity caused by prewedding jitters, right, Scott?” He came up beside me. “Diminished capacity. An epic brain fart of some kind.”
I shot him a warning look. “Shut up.”
“Be nice.” Eva kissed me lightly. “We’re going to talk about this later.”
“Your place or ours?”
She smiled, her temper gone. “Ours.”
Her legs unwound and I set her down.
I could let her go now. I still didn’t like it, but the knot in my stomach had eased. Eva was no worse for wear. Her temper always hit like a sudden storm and dissipated as swiftly, washing the slate clean.
“Hello, Megumi.” I extended my hand.
She took it, showing off glittering nude nails. Megumi was an attractive woman, with jaw-length black hair and almond-shaped eyes.
Eva’s friend and former co-worker looked stronger than she had the last time I’d seen her, which pleased me, because I knew how much my wife worried about her. I knew her only in passing prior to the sexual assault that had recently changed her life. I regretted that. The woman who stood before me now had a wounded look in her dark brown eyes and an air of bravado that betrayed vulnerability.
Experience had taught me she had a long road ahead of her. And she would never again be the person she’d been before.
I glanced at Eva. My wife had come so far, from both the girl she’d been long ago and the young woman I had first met. She was stronger now, too. I was happy to see that and wouldn’t change it for anything.
I could only pray that strength wouldn’t eventually take her away from me.
I left James Cho’s studio exactly the way I expected—with my ass handed to me. Still, I’d managed to redeem myself at the end, taking the former champion fighter down in our last sparring match.
Angus was waiting for me outside, standing beside the Bentley. He opened the door and took my duffel bag but didn’t smile. On the backseat, Lucky barked in his carrier, his excited face peering from behind the bars.
Pausing before sliding into the back, I held Angus’s gaze.
“I have some information,” he said grimly.
Considering the search for Hugh’s files, I’d been braced for bad news. “We’ll talk when we get to the penthouse.”
“Your office would be better.”
“All right.” I slid into the back, frowning. Either location was private. I’d suggested home so that Eva could be with me, supporting me, when he relayed whatever information he had. Angus’s preference for the office could only mean he didn’t want Eva nearby.
What would he have to tell me that was best kept from my wife?
Lucky pawed at the carrier door, whining softly. Absently, I opened it and he tumbled out, climbing into my lap and rearing up to lick my jaw.
“Okay, okay.” I held him so he wouldn’t fall in his frenzy, tilting my head back to avoid getting licked on the mouth. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
Rubbing his warm, soft body with one hand, I looked out at the city as we drove through it. New York was an entirely different landscape at night, a fusion of dark alleys and twinkling high-rises, garish neon storefronts and intimate sidewalk dining.
With nearly two million people living on an island of less than twenty-three square miles, privacy was both rare and imagined. Apartment windows faced each other, with scarcely any distance between them. Often those windows remained uncovered, exposing private lives to anyone who chose to look. Telescopes were a popular item.
It was a New Yorker’s way to live within a bubble, minding their own business with the expectation that others would do the same. The other option was to feel claustrophobic, the antithesis of the spirit of freedom that was the foundation of the Empire State.
We reached the Crossfire and I exited the Bentley with Lucky. Angus followed me through the revolving doors and we crossed the lobby in silence. The security guards stood as I approached, greeting me briskly by name, while darting glances at the tiny puppy tucked under my arm. I smiled inwardly as I caught my reflection. Dressed in sweats and a T-shirt with shower-damp hair, I doubted any person not in the know would believe I owned the building.
The elevator shot us up quickly and we were walking through the Cross Industries headquarters within moments of our arrival. Most offices and cubicles were dark and empty, but some ambitious employees were still getting things done—or didn’t have a reason to go home. I could relate. It wasn’t long ago that I’d spent more time at work than the penthouse.
Entering my office, I turned the lights on and activated the opacity of the glass wall. Then I went to the seating area, settling on the couch and dropping Lucky on the cushion beside me. It was at that time I noticed Angus carried a worn leather binder.
He pulled a club chair close to the coffee table and sat. His gaze held mine.
My throat closed as another possibility came to mind. Angus seemed too somber, the meeting too formal.
“You’re not retiring,” I preempted him, the words thick in my mouth. “I won’t let you.”
He stared at me a moment, and then his face softened. “Ah, laddie. Ye’ll be stuck with me for a while yet.”
Relief hit me so hard, I sagged back into the sofa, my heart pounding. Lucky, always ready to play, jumped on my chest.
“Down,” I ordered, which only made him more excitable. I pinned him in place with one hand and gave a brisk nod to Angus to get started.
“You’ll remember the dossier we compiled when you met Eva,” he began.
Focused by the sound of my wife’s name, I straightened. “Of course.”
The memory of the day I met Eva came rushing back. I’d been seated in the limo at the curb, seconds from pulling away from the Crossfire. She had been entering the building. I watched her, felt the pull of her. Unable to resist, I told Angus to wait and I went back in to find her, chasing after a woman—something I’d never done.
She’d dropped her name badge when she saw me and I retrieved it for her, noting her name and the company she worked for. By the end of the night, I’d had a thin folder on my home office desk containing a quick background check—again, something I’d never done for a mere sexual interest. Somehow, on a level I hadn’t yet recognized, I knew she was mine. Knew that however I deluded myself, she was going to be important to me.
In the days that followed, the dossier grew, encompassing Eva’s parents and Cary, then Eva’s paternal and maternal grandparents.
“We’ve kept a lawyer on retainer in Austin,” Angus went on, “to send us any reports of unusual activity with Harrison and Leah Tramell.”
Monica’s parents. Their estrangement from their daughter and granddaughter was just fine with me. Less family to deal with. But I also understood that while they might not have had any interest in Eva as an illegitimate grandchild, their minds might change when Eva publicly became my wife. “What have they done?”
“They died,” he said bluntly, unzipping the binder. “Nearly a month ago.”
That gave me pause. “Eva doesn’t know. We were just talking over the weekend about wedding invitations and they came up. I assume Monica doesn’t keep tabs on them.”
“She wrote the obituary that appeared in the local paper.” Angus withdrew a photocopy and set it on the table.
Picking it up, I scanned through it quickly. The Tramells had died together, in a boating accident during a summer vacation. The accompanying photo was decades old, with clothing and hair dating it to sometime in the seventies. They were an attractive couple, well dressed and expensively accessorized. What didn’t fit was the hair—even in a black-and-white newspaper printing I could see they were both dark-haired.
I read the closing sentence. Harrison and Leah are survived by their daughter, Monica, and two grandchildren. Looking up at Angus, I repeated aloud, “Two grandchildren? Eva has a sibling?”
Lucky wriggled out of my lax grip and jumped to the floor.
Angus took a deep breath. “That mention and the photo made me take a deeper look.”
He pulled out a picture and set it down.
I glanced at it. “Who is that?”
“That’s Monica Tramell—now Monica Dieck.”
My blood turned cold. The woman in the photo was a brunette, like her parents. And she looked nothing like the Monica I knew or my wife. “I don’t understand.”
“I haven’t yet figured out what Eva’s mother’s actual name is, but the real Monica Tramell had a brother named Jackson who was briefly married to Lauren Kittrie.”
“Lauren.” Eva’s middle name. “What do we know about her?”
“For now, nothing, but that’ll change. We’re looking.”
I raked my hand through my hair. “Is it possible we’ve confused the Tramells and looked at the wrong family?”
“No, lad.”
Standing, I went to the bar. I took two tumblers off the shelf and poured two fingers of Ardbeg Uigeadail single malt into each. “Stanton would’ve checked out Monica—Eva’s mother—thoroughly before he married her.”
“You didn’t find out about Eva’s past until she told you,” he pointed out.
He was right. The records of Eva’s abuse, her miscarriage, the court transcripts, the settlement … they’d all been meticulously buried. When I’d tasked Arash with drafting the prenuptial agreement, we had verified her financial assets and debts, but that was all. I loved her. I wanted her. Discrediting her in any way had never been considered.
Stanton loved his wife as well. Her personal fortune, accumulated after two financially advantageous divorces, would have addressed the most pressing concern. As for the rest, I expect he and I had acted similarly. Why search for trouble when all indications were that there was none? Love was willfully blind and made fools of men.
I rounded the bar and nearly tripped over Lucky as he bounded in front of me. “Benjamin Clancy is damned good. He wouldn’t have missed this.”
“We missed it.” He took the glass I handed him. “If the Tramells hadn’t passed away, we still wouldn’t know. The background check was clean.”
“How can it be clean, for fuck’s sake?” I knocked back the whiskey in one swallow.
“Eva’s mother used Monica’s name, birthdate, and family history, but she never opened a line of credit, which is how most identity theft is discovered. The bank account she’s using was established twenty-five years ago and is a business account with a separate tax ID.”
She would’ve had to provide a personal SSN, as well, when she opened it, but the world was a very different place before the Internet.
The enormity of the fraud was difficult for me to grasp. If Angus was right, Eva’s mother had lived more of her life as another woman than she had as herself.
“There’s no trail, lad,” he reiterated, setting his tumbler down untouched. “No crumbs to follow.”
“What about the real Monica Tramell?”
“Her husband manages everything. In that sense, she hardly exists.”
I looked down at the puppy who pawed at my shin. “Eva doesn’t know about any of this,” I said grimly. “She would’ve told me.”
Even as I said it, I had to wonder how she would’ve told me. How would I tell her, if I were in her place? Could she keep such a huge secret, having lived with the lie so long she now believed it was true?
“Aye, Gideon,” Angus said, his tone low and conciliatory. He wondered, too. It was his job to do so. “She loves you. Deeper and truer than I’ve ever seen a lass love a man.”
I lowered back onto the sofa, felt the slight weight of Lucky as he scrambled up beside me. “I need to know more. Everything. I can’t bring information like this to Eva in bits and pieces.”
“You’ll have it,” he promised.