Tavia’s hands dug into Marcus’ back, easily kneading the knots in his skin away.

“You’re a mess,” Tavia sighed, her crotch pressed against his naked buttocks. “When was the last time you got a massage?”

“Last week,” Marcus responded. “Is it that bad?”

“It’s the worst I’ve seen it,” she replied, her hand working down his shoulders.

“Long few weeks,” he admitted. “It’s all coming down now.”

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked, and Marcus chuckled.

“Not really,” he sighed. “I want to forget about it altogether and enjoy my downtime.” Unexpectedly, he flipped around and toppled Tavia down onto the California king bed.

“Mr. Williams!” Tavia teased. “I’m not that kind of girl!”

“What a shame,” Marcus mumbled. “Those are the only kinds I like.”

He leaned in to kiss her, but as he did, he automatically felt repelled, as if touching her was wrong. Tavia met him halfway, her arms encircling his neck, and drew his face closer to his for a kiss, but he abruptly pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, confusion settling in her green eyes.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly. “I just realized my cell is in the living room.”

“I’ll get it,” Tavia volunteered.

Marcus, though, was already on his feet.

“I’m expecting a phone call.” He darted naked into the neighboring room, grateful to be away from her. He didn’t want to explain why, for the third night, he could not perform.

To his relief, the phone rang as he snatched it off the coffee table. “Marcus Williams.”

“Mr. Williams, it’s Darren Winters.” His heart stopped, and for a moment, he could not breathe. “Mr. Williams?”

“I’m here, Darren,” he said. “What do you have?”

“I would prefer to meet you in person, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience. At your leisure, of course.”

“Where are you right now?” Marcus asked, glancing over his shoulder to where Tavia had set up in the doorway.

“I’m downtown. Yonge and Dundas.”

“I can meet you at Yonge and Dundas Square in forty-five minutes,” Marcus replied.

“I look forward to it, sir. And Mr. Williams?”

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid I have some disappointing news, sir.”

Marcus felt a flash of heat rush through him, and he disconnected the call.

“You can’t be seriously leaving now,” Tavia moaned. “You just got here!”

“Work calls, my dear,” he replied smoothly, moving back toward the bedroom. As he brushed past her, he placed a prefectural kiss on her cheek and began to dress. Tavia followed him back into the bedroom, her eyes fixated on him.

“Marcus…?” she purred, sliding onto the bed, her lithe body crawling toward him as he put on his socks.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his mind still on the phone call.

Darren had been following Addison at his request, learning everything he possibly could about the woman who had been stealing from his company. Marcus wanted to ensure that he had every piece of information before confronting Addison and demanding his money back.

A part of him wondered if hiring the private investigator had been necessary or if Marcus had simply been buying time to avoid the inevitable. And now he was about to be confronted with the truth: that the woman with whom he had become insurmountably smitten was a thief.

“Have you given any thought as to who will move into the penthouse?”

The question snapped Marcus to attention, and his head jerked around to look at Tavia. “What?”

She stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth pouty as she slithered toward him.

“It’s empty since you kicked Addison out, isn’t it?” she asked innocently, and Marcus felt the tension in his back returning.

“Why do you know anything about that?” he asked slowly.

Tavia chuckled and sat back, playfully shaking her head. “Oh, come on, Marcus. You know that we know what’s going on with the others. It’s not a secret or a big deal.”

Marcus’ mouth pursed together, and he stared at his lover with sparks of ire in his eyes.

“Do you know why I choose the women I do?” he asked tightly.

Tavia giggled. “I assume because we all know how to please you,” she replied.

Marcus smiled coldly.

“That’s where you’re mistaken,” he said. “I choose them because there is something remarkable, something elusive that entices me about them.”

Tavia’s smile faltered slightly, as if she sensed a sinister undertone in him. “Baby, I was only—”

“I don’t ask for much, do I, Tavia?” She shook her head, visibly swallowing.

“No,” she breathed.

“All I ask is that you respect my privacy and never expect monogamy,” Marcus went on. “Is that unfair? I could easily keep a woman in every country in the world, no one being the wiser about the next. However, that isn’t fair to anyone, is it?”

Tavia stared at him, unsure of how to respond.

“And don’t I give you everything you want in exchange for these small things?”

She nodded, her eyes widening as he rose, buttoning his navy-blue shirt, his eyes burning into her face.

“You are so generous,” she whispered. “Always.”

“And yet it seems like none of you can follow the rules,” Marcus continued. “You poke your noses into my other relationships, you develop jealousies and throw them in my face, as if I have misled you in some way. But most of all, you always want more. The bigger apartment, a raise, a better parking spot… money that doesn’t belong to you.”

Tavia began to vehemently shake her head.

“I’m sorry!” she cried out as he turned to leave. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Marcus!”

He paused in the doorway and smiled charmingly at her. “I’m not upset, Tavia. You forget that I have no room for drama in my life. Have your things out of here by tomorrow evening. We’re done here.”

“No! Marcus, no! I’m sorry!” Tavia screamed after him, but Marcus was already gone, heading up to the rooftop to make his great escape.

He needed to fly that night.

A few people were milling about the Square when Marcus arrived, even though there had been no events scheduled that evening. At that late hour, no one noticed the billionaire meeting the darkly clad private investigator beneath the neon signs.

“Thanks for meeting me, Mr. Williams,” Darren said, and Marcus signaled for him to follow.

“I could use a drink for this, I think,” Marcus sighed. “There’s a bar right there.”

The men began to walk, and the private investigator began talking.

“I did as you requested,” Darren started, handing Marcus a thick file. “I ran a complete background check on Miss Dryden. There is nothing regarding a criminal history. She graduated high school but dropped out of college in her second year. From what I gathered, she couldn’t afford tuition. Her employment history reflects her lack of formal education, working minimum wage jobs until she landed at Williams Industries.”

Marcus flipped open the manila folder, his heart spasming for a fleeting second as his eyes fell on Addison’s beautiful face, captured in various poses as she was photographed unsuspectingly.

“She has had the same driver’s license and social security number since she was sixteen years old, raised in Hamilton,” Darren went on. “Father, Gregory Dryden, mother, Cassandra Dryden, both alive and living in Binbrook. She has one older sister, a nurse in Mississauga, and no one in the family has a criminal record nor a history of mental illness.”

Marcus continued to flip through the pages of Winters’ report, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“There have been no major purchases, her credit cards are maxed out, her bank account has less than fifty dollars in it, and she has no vehicle to speak of.”

Marcus peered at Darren through his peripheral vision. “And?” he urged, wishing the investigator would get to the point.

“I paid her and her roommate a visit tonight under the guise of police,” he continued as they stepped up to the bar stoop.

Marcus whirled to look at him. “You did what? Who told you to initiate contact?” he snapped, his face flushing crimson. The last thing he needed was for Addison to learn he was having her followed, although he could not say why it bothered him so much.

“It’s part of a normal investigation, Mr. Williams,” Darren assured him.

“Well?” Marcus snapped. “What happened?”

The investigator shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing whatsoever. She and her roommate, Janine, were terrified, but they know absolutely nothing. Janine does have a possession charge for marijuana, but that was from six years ago, and the amount was benign. She got community service, but I wanted to also rule her out.”

“What do you mean, ‘nothing whatsoever’?” Marcus demanded. “What did they say? What did you ask them?”

Darren sighed quietly. “Unfortunately, the real police arrived before I could finish my full interrogation, but they know nothing about Williams Industries. In my professional opinion, Miss Dryden is not your thief.”

Marcus gaped at him, barely stepping out of the way as a group of boisterous college kids exited the bar. “What?” he asked, dumbfounded. “You’re sure?”

Darren shrugged nonchalantly and then nodded. “I have been in this game for over thirty years, and I would bet my left nut that she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“But… but…” Marcus sputtered. “When you called, you said the news wasn’t good.”

The private investigator gazed at him, a peculiar expression on his face.

“I would assume this is terrible news, Mr. Williams,” he said, an interested pitch to his voice. “Your suspect did not pan out.”

Marcus exhaled the breath he had been holding onto, his heart hammering so loudly, he was sure Darren could hear it.

So, it wasn’t Addison, he thought to himself, almost in relief. I knew she couldn’t be responsible for such a thing. That’s not who she is. But that means that one of the others is responsible.

He suddenly felt uneasy, like the world was slowing down around him.

“Are you all right, Mr. Williams?” Darren asked him. “You seem a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” Marcus assured him. “Meet me inside. I need to make a phone call.”

Darren nodded, pausing for a moment. “You know, I can keep up with the background checks with your other employees—”

“That’s not necessary,” he told Darren. “Thank you.”

The private investigator walked into the bar as Marcus pulled a number out of his speed dial, falling against the brick wall of the pub.

“What do you want?” Tavia snapped angrily. “I’m busy packing.”

“Packing?” he demanded. “For what?”

There was a deep, ominous silence.

“Are you pulling my leg?” Tavia asked in a low voice. “Because I’m not in the mood for your games, Marcus.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marcus replied. “I just wanted to make sure you’re not going anywhere tonight. I’ll be home in a couple of hours, and we can pick up where we left off.”

He heard her breath quicken as Tavia grappled for something to say. “Y-Yes!” she finally managed. “Yes, I’ll be home! I’ll see you soon!”

“Okay, darling.”

Marcus disconnected the call and inhaled sharply, steeling himself from flying into a dragon-colored rage.

You’re not going anywhere, he thought furiously. Not until I know which one of you betrayed me. Until then, you can stay directly in my line of sight.