Gabriella stared at the computer screen, her eyes wide with disbelief.

This is what he was hiding all along?

Heat rose to her cheeks. She read the article again, certain she had misunderstood the content, but the words remained the same.

“Cam!” she shouted. “Get in here!”

A moment later, Cameron sauntered into the kitchen of their newly rented home, stretching cat-like in his robe.

“You rang, madam?” he asked, his accent becoming British.

“Have you seen this?” she demanded, turning the computer toward him. He glanced at the screen with little interest.

“Oh, yeah,” he commented. “Shameful business, isn’t it?”

“Are you going to speak with a British accent all day?” Gabby demanded, scowling. “Do you know anything about this?” Cameron turned toward the stainless-steel fridge and pulled open the door, unspeaking. “Cam…”

“Well, the truth was bound to surface eventually,” he said evenly.

“What did you do?” Gabriella asked, rising from the island to touch his arm. “Is this true?”

Cameron withdrew the orange juice and shut the door, his blue eyes shining.

“As far as I know, yes,” he replied honestly. “David Charlotte has been having an affair with his cousin for two decades.”

Cameron had come across the information in his search to discover who had hired Andrew Bell. There had been no follow-up to the original hit, but he had not been convinced Gabriella was out of danger yet. The brunette the mayor had been photographer with had, indeed, been his first cousin, Patricia. It had not taken much persuasion for Patricia Charlotte to confess the truth and come forward with the information. David had accused Gabby as the mistress to hide the fact that he was involved in an incestuous relationship.

It looks better to be screwing around with a supermodel who had previously donated to his campaign than his own kin. Smart thinking, throwing everyone off his track and onto that of a celebrity, Cameron thought with a slight admiration of David Charlotte’s ingenuity. Too bad he picked the wrong woman to frame.

Yet no matter how much investigative work Cameron had done, he could not find a link between the official and Andrew Bell.

“Do you think Alison Charlotte learned about the affair and he had her killed?” Gabriella asked pensively.

And while there had not been a paper trail between the mayor and the hitman, there had been one between the hitman and the mayor’s wife. Cameron found it when the impound had called, telling him they had found a GPS tracking device under the wheel well of Gabby’s scrapped convertible. Cameron had taken the tracker and retraced its locations back to Alison Charlotte’s office in Manhattan.

After sending informatives to New York, Cameron found confirmation to what he had suspected all along. Alison’s public façade had not shown an iota of the inner fury she had held toward Gabriella. She had hired Andrew to do the deed in some weak attempt for retribution for her misguided anger.

“No idea,” Cameron replied flippantly.

Gabriella continued to stare at him. “You don’t know what happened to Alison Charlotte?” she demanded, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I heard she disappeared. Maybe she was simply sick of being married to a pig,” he volunteered. “I couldn’t say.”

Actually, Cameron could say a great deal, but he did not need to worry Gabriella any more than necessary. She had endured enough for her lifetime.

“You know what this means?” Gabriella breathed, her face growing pink with excitement.

A feeling of dread washed over Cameron, but he had been expecting it. He flashed her a happy smile.

“Yes,” he replied easily. “It means you can go back to New York and resume your career in modeling.”

She looked at him, her mouth parting slightly.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” she replied slowly. “I was going to say that I don’t have to worry about looking over my shoulder anymore. It’s over!”

Cameron exhaled slightly, nodding. “I told you that I would always keep you safe,” he reminded her.

They smiled at one another, but Cameron’s earlier comment still hung in the air.

“Are you going back to New York now?” he asked quietly.

Gabby’s smile faded slightly.

“Do you know that I have been modeling for ten years?” she asked him. “Constantly flying from continent to continent for ten years, sleeping two hours a night, spending hours in make-up, battling inclement weather because some asshole wants bikini shots in real snow. I am not complaining, but I have made more money than I can spend in a lifetime. I could buy six houses in Great Falls for the price of one condo in Manhattan.”

Cam felt his heart begin to thump with hope.

“You’re going to retire?” he asked, trying not to seem too eager.

“From modeling? Yes,” she replied. “Anyway, I’ve really enjoyed not watching my diet so closely, and I have put on at least ten pounds. They probably won’t take me back anyway.”

“You’re beautiful,” he told her truthfully. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Gabby hung her head demurely. “I will find something else to do,” she told him as they settled back onto their stools.

“Any thoughts?” Cam asked, leaning forward on his arms, and Gabriella nodded earnestly.

“Yes, actually,” she replied, a wicked smile on her face. “I was thinking driving instructor.”