by Mia Taylor
She hasn’t discovered it in fifteen years. She won’t find out now, especially since she’s gone back to work. Victoria is back to her type A self, neglecting me and pouring herself into the clothing line. It’s not my fault I keep going back to Evangeline. She knows how to take care of me. Victoria only knows how to take care of her business. Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t make a mistake marrying Victoria. Evangeline would have made a perfectly good wife… and mother.
He forced down a spark of nervousness and he shifted his thoughts toward the angry brunette in front of him.
God, she’s so sexy when she’s mad. She doesn’t even know what she’s mad about, Ryker thought, licking his lips.
“I think you’ve got it all wrong,” he replied smoothly. “My interests are only for the Republican party. You know that.”
Evangeline stared at him, her confusion obvious. She did not have the mental capacity to understand the complexities of the Senate. Her brain was not the reason he had married her in the first place.
“No more fighting,” he breathed, pulling her gently toward him. “We’re lovers, not fighters, right?”
Instantly, he felt the jet-haired vixen relax under his skillful fingers.
This is the life, he thought as he crushed his lips onto Evangeline’s wanting mouth. I have power, money, and sex. I have a beautiful wife and a horny mistress. I am the luckiest man alive… as long as no one figures it all out.
Chapter Twelve
He Messed with the Wrong Immortal
“Ryker?”
Victoria stepped into the dark condo, her brow furrowed as she flipped on the lights in her path.
“Ryker?” she called again but there was no answer.
Not home again? What do they talk about until eleven o’clock at night? she wondered, strolling into the penthouse, her heels clicking against the marble flooring. He had returned home from DC the previous night and still had meetings scheduled.
“Mrs. Duvall.”
Victoria yelped and jumped, spinning to confront the man standing in the doorway to the study, her body ready to spring into a shift. Immediately, she exhaled when she saw who stood there.
“Riley! You scared me,” she gasped, willing her heart to regain its normal rate.
The young aide looked sheepish.
“Sorry, ma’am. I lost track of time in there or I would have turned on some lights for you.”
“Where is my husband?”
She noted that Riley’s light brown eyes avoided hers.
“He’s not home, ma’am.”
Victoria stared at him intently, her heart beginning to race slightly.
Why does he look so guilty? Is he hiding something for Ryker?
“That’s not what I asked, Riley. I asked where he is.”
The boy swallowed uncomfortably and Victoria stifled a sigh. It wasn’t fair to drill the boy. He had nothing to do with their problems.
“Never mind,” she muttered. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
She left Riley staring after her as she stalked toward the kitchen, throwing on an apron as she strolled through the swinging doors.
The housekeeper had been in that morning and the gourmet kitchen was in pristine condition. Victoria had an irresistible urge to bring it into chaos.
Brownies. I’ll make brownies, she decided, thrusting the fridge open for eggs and milk. In seconds, she felt her angst beginning to dissolve.
She had spent painstaking hours with Gregory Reverend poring over the numbers. In the end, they had both agreed that the stunning financial loss did not make any obvious sense.
“How was this not caught earlier?” Victoria demanded. “What does this mean?”
Gregory had gulped, frightened by the amount of rage in the CEO’s voice.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” he gasped. “I will have to further investigate everything.”
“Do it. And do it fast,” she ordered, slamming her fist against the desk. When he had scurried from the office, Victoria had a terrible sense of foreboding.
Has someone been stealing from the company since I’ve been gone?
It seemed to be the only reasonable explanation, but who and why?
Victoria had always prided herself on treating her underlings with respect and dignity. She offered paid vacations, excellent health and dental benefits, and extended maternity leave. Her products were produced through fair trade and all her factories were visited frequently to ensure they met all human rights standards. It was unbelievable that anyone would try to do that to her.
I can’t think about that now. I will cross that bridge if I am forced to come to it. I must get out of here and talk to Ryker. He’ll know what to do.
Ryker was a lawyer, after all. He would know how to address such a betrayal legally and quietly. Chic could not afford any more bad publicity. It was going to be a terrific uphill battle reclaiming whatever losses they already had endured.
She was disappointed Ryker wasn’t home but she was not overly surprised. Getting in touch with him had been a nearly impossible task since he had taken his seat.
There were trips overseas, golf games, and meetings for every second of every day. Victoria had fooled herself into believing that once the campaign was done, she and Ryker would be able to sit back and relax for a while.
This is just as much your fault as it is his, she reminded herself. You’re also coming home at eleven o’clock at night.
She began whisking the eggs and flour together, trying to focus on the mixture, but suddenly she realized she was exhausted.
How much longer will we be able to do this? Maybe Ryker is right. Maybe I should sell the company and stay home baking cookies. We would be set for life if I sell.
For a fleeting moment, Lenora’s voice echoed through her mind.
“What is next for you, Victoria? Are you going to continue baking cookies at the penthouse or are you allowed to go back to your job?”
A steel rod of pride jammed into Victoria’s spine and she shook her head. She had singlehandedly built her clothing line and she would not give it up because she hoped to spend time with her husband. They would simply have to find a way to juggle both.
As if he had heard her thoughts, the swinging door opened and Ryker sauntered inside. If Victoria was tired, her husband seemed bright-eyed and full of life.
“Hello, my love,” Ryker called, placing a kiss on Victoria’s cheek. “What on earth are you cooking at this hour?”
“Brownies. Where were you?” Victoria cringed at her own tone and she turned her face, pretending to busy herself so he could not read the displeasure in her face.
“Work. Riley said you just got home too,” Ryker replied lightly. “Or did you forget that? I know you’ve been very busy these days with your own worries.”
Victoria gritted her teeth. She was trying to contain her annoyance but his patronizing tone was not helping matters along.
“I’ve been texting you all day,” Victoria informed him. “I finally called your phone because I was getting worried and it was off.”
“I’ve been in meetings all day,” he told her, collapsing onto a stool at the island. “I never keep my phone on in meetings. You know that, darling. Is something wrong?”
Victoria resisted the urge to tell him about Chic’s accounting woes. She had been so eager to pick his brain but suddenly the last thing she wanted to do was speak to him about any of it or anything else.
I’m too tired tonight.
She tried not to notice that she found herself tired more often when dealing with her husband these days.
Has he been deceiving me in other ways that I don’t know about? She forced her attention on her husband.
“No,” she responded, turning back to look at him. She offered him a lopsided smile. “Nothing’s wrong. Are you hungry?”
Ryker’s eyes lit up at the suggestion.
“As a matter of fact…” he purred, rising from his seat. “I could go for a little snack.”
>
For the first time in her life, Victoria shrunk away from Ryker as he approached. Their lovemaking had reached a record low and Victoria wasn’t sure if it was due to the revelations of the trial or their insane work schedule, but her libido had suffered greatly.
“I’m tired, Ry. I’m going to throw these in the oven and have a shower.”
“I could join you,” he told her, running his hand along the side of her body. Inexplicably, a shiver of disgust coursed through her.
What is wrong with you today? she wondered, gently pushing him back. A look of consternation crossed over Ryker’s face and he studied her, his blue eyes flooded with worry.
“Victoria?”
“I think I’m getting sick,” Victoria lied. “I don’t even want to finish these. I think I’m just going to bed, darling.”
She shifted her gaze from his and removed her apron, throwing it on the countertop beside the unfinished brownie mixture. Ryker’s eyes continued to bore into her as she hurried from the gourmet kitchen pretending not to notice the overwhelming scent of perfume exuding from Ryker’s shirt.
Chapter Thirteen
Choosing the Wrong Man
“This was a wonderful idea, Ryker, thank you,” Victoria told her husband as the maître d’ pulled out a chair for her to sit.
They’d been ushered into the restaurant immediately and placed at a center table, but as Victoria looked about, she couldn’t help but wonder if Ryker had ulterior motives for the impromptu dinner date.
Skeptically, she looked about for reporters or cameras, but she saw nothing to make her believe he was using it as a photo op. It wouldn’t be the first time that her husband had done such a thing.
Victoria reminded herself that her husband was not beyond calling a press conference to the hospital after her attack. Photographing date night would be no major stretch.
She chided herself for being so cynical. The couple had barely spent two waking hours together in the past three weeks. Victoria worked herself ragged with marketing, public relations, and the designers. She was actively trying to reface Chic Apparel, hoping to regain some of the lost faith which Ryker’s arrest had caused.
She started a fund to donate money toward sexual abuse survivors through her sales even though she was hemorrhaging cash.
“It’s ridiculous that we are never able to see one another,” Ryker replied, leaning forward to take her hands. “We’re behaving like roommates these days, not a married couple. It’s shameful and I apologize for my part in this.”
She allowed him to slip her palms into his.
“It’s been crazy,” she agreed. “We have to figure out some sort of schedule when things settle down a bit. I am just up to my ears in getting everything back to the way it should be.”
Ryker nodded understandingly.
“I know, darling. You work so hard. I hope things fall into place for you soon.”
“Me too,” Victoria sighed, stuffing the thought of red numbers and irate employees aside.
I deserve one night without work on the brain, she told herself. I’ve earned it.
“How are things going at work? I feel like we haven’t spoken about the business at all since you went back to work.”
“Fine,” Victoria replied and again, she wondered what her reluctance was to tell him. It was as if her sixth sense had been nagging at her, warning her not to say too much, but of course that was ridiculous.
Who else should I talk to if not Ryker?
Instantly, Benjamin Hamilton popped into her mind and a slow blush formed on Victoria’s cheeks. The problem was, Victoria was no longer sure she could trust Ryker.
It had started even before the scent of women’s perfume had assaulted her nostrils that night in the kitchen. There had been other indications that Ryker was being unfaithful, but Victoria had no proof, only a deep, instinctive hunch that wouldn’t quit.
Didn’t you suspect that there was some truth to the accusations too?
Shame flooded her face. She’d been wrong about that. Maybe she was wrong about this.
You’re growing paranoid in your old age, she told herself, shaking her head. Ryker loves you more than anything in the world. If he wanted another woman, he would divorce you and move on. He knows you wouldn’t stand in his way. There is no reason for him to cheat.
Yet no amount of reassurance could silence the worry in her brain. Victoria knew that men did not cheat because they wanted to marry other women—they did it for the thrill of being caught.
No amount of reasoning could shake her gut sense. Victoria found that she no longer craved the touch of her husband and the thought of making love to him bothered her. It was foreign to her. Their sex life had always been frequent and passionate, despite the years of marriage. They had always said that each time was like the first time.
But Victoria could not muster those feelings despite her best efforts.
“Victoria?”
She glanced up, her grey eyes clouded. The server stood by the table, waiting patiently for her order.
“Oh!” she replied. “Sorry. I was admiring the view.”
There was no view to admire.
“I’m ordering a bottle of pinot noir,” Ryker told her, grinning at her lie.
“Perfect,” Victoria agreed.
“Are you glad to be back at work?” he asked her as the waiter disappeared to retrieve their wine. Victoria nodded. “I imagine you have been itching to get your hands dirty for months.”
“It’s a change from following you around,” she told him and he arched an eyebrow.
“You make it sound like that was a bad thing,” Ryker said lightly but Victoria could sense the hurt in his tone. “Were you so miserable while we were working together?”
Immediately, Victoria shook her head.
“Of course not, darling, but you have to admit that being together twenty-four seven is a lot for any two people—especially two people who are going to have eternity together.”
“I rather enjoyed having you home at night,” he told her wistfully. Victoria’s heart grew heavy.
He has sacrificed his “traditional family” for me, she thought, shame flooding through her. And you repay him by suspecting he is off sleeping with other women. There are a million reasons why he could smell like a perfume factory. I need to stop acting so suspicious and start appreciating what’s in front of me.
“Oh shit,” Ryker mumbled suddenly and Victoria turned to where his stare was fixated. She groaned outwardly as Samuel Crowe walked toward them, led by the same maître d’ who had seated them. Behind the old bear was his daughter and son-in-law.
Victoria felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as they drew nearer to their table.
“Ryker!” Evangeline cried, clapping her hands in excitement as her eyes fell upon them. Victoria stared at her in disbelief. She had not laid eyes upon her husband’s ex-wife since the trial and she had hoped she would not have to again until Evangeline stood trial for conspiracy and frameup.
She’s acting as if she didn’t try to ruin his life. And why is he smiling?
“Hi, Evie. Sam, Gerry,” Ryker replied, rising. Victoria’s jaw dropped open as he shook hands with the men and offered Evangeline a kiss on the cheek. Evangeline turned to Victoria and offered her a small, embarrassed smile.
“Hi, Toria,” the voluptuous beauty called cheerfully. Victoria could not bring herself to answer, unsure if she was caught up in a dream.
How much wine did I drink? What is happening here?
“I know you’re still mad, Victoria, but I want you to know how sorry I am for everything that’s happened.”
“Evangeline!” Sam snapped. “No discussing the case. You know that!”
The black-haired woman shot her father a look of contrition.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she sighed. “I just don’t want there to be hard feelings between me and Victoria. We were always so close, you know?”
Is she high? Victoria wondered. For as l
ong as she could remember, she had loathed Evangeline Crowe on sight. If Victoria had not been so furious with the entire situation, the comment would have been amusing. Evangeline Crowe had always lived in a world separate from anyone else’s reality.
“Well?” Evangeline insisted as Gerald tried to steer her toward their table. She shook his hand off her naked elbow as if he were a pesky fly.
“Well what?” Victoria demanded when she realized Evangeline was expecting an answer to something.
“Are we friends again?” she chirped.
She needs psychiatric help. If I punch her in the face right now, perhaps the doctors in emergency will send her to the psych ward for evaluation. It would be a public service, keeping this moron off the streets. She is a danger to herself and others, particularly me.
Victoria felt her hands become closed fists, her fangs threatening to elongate as her breathing intensified. She turned her dark grey eyes up at the luscious beauty.
“No, Evangeline, we are not friends again,” Victoria hissed. “Because we were never friends in the first place.”
Perversely, Victoria enjoyed watching the woman’s face crumble, the ditzy smile falling from her face as if Victoria had physically assaulted her.
That was the next best thing to breaking her perfect nose, Victoria thought with uncharacteristic spite, proud of her remarkable restraint.
“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” Evangeline growled but her face still showed stunned anguish. This time Gerald succeeded in steering his incensed wife from their table. Sam offered them a tight, insincere smile which ended up looking more like a smirk.
“You’ll forgive Evangeline. She doesn’t seem to comprehend how things work off the playground,” he muttered and to Victoria’s horror, Ryker laughed jovially.
“It’s okay, Sam. She doesn’t mean any harm.”
This is like being in a nightmarish circus. How can they act like nothing has happened? I’ve been to dinner parties less civil than this.
Sam nodded without responding and followed his son-in-law and daughter.
