by Maya Banks
She consoled herself with the idea that they’d probably gotten caught up with last-minute details. It had seemed a miracle when they’d agreed to the two-week trip to Jamaica. No phones, no email, no business, just the three of them on a tropical beach.
God, she missed them. Missed touching them, talking with them, snuggling into their arms after lovemaking. She touched her stomach again. She was three months pregnant. Three months ago had been the last time either man had made love to her. Before that? She couldn’t even remember.
She’d hoped that tonight, and their impending vacation, would go a long way in recapturing what was lost in their relationship. Somewhere along the way to making their business a success, Logan and Rhys had sacrificed themselves—and her—in the process. She knew it, had known that things could only be allowed to go so far, but now that she was pregnant, it seemed the most important thing in the world to gain that reassurance that she still came first with them, that their child would come first.
She was about to open the sliding glass door when the flashing red beacon on the answering machine caught her attention.
Her heart sped up, and she cursed the fact that she was so willing to forget and forgive at the mere idea Logan or Rhys had called to leave a message. They had her cell phone number, damn it, and if they’d left a message here, it just showed them for the cowards they were.
She blinked in surprise when the phone rang. She stood, staring at it, refusing to cross the room to answer. After four rings, the answering machine picked up, and her own voice filtered across the room.
She held her breath as Logan’s voice sounded.
“Catherine? Baby, pick up the phone. You must have let your cell phone go down again. I’ve been trying to call you.”
She vaulted for the phone, simultaneously reaching into her purse for her cell. As she yanked up the receiver, she fumbled with the cell, turning it over in her hand to see that it was, indeed, dead.
“Logan?” she said as she punched the on button.
“Catherine. Finally.”
“Logan, where are you?” she asked.
“I’m in the car. Something came up.” A long silence descended over the line, and she heard him suck in his breath. “About the trip, Catherine...”
Oh no. No, no, no. He wouldn’t.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to postpone it. Rhys and I have to fly out. Why don’t you see if you can reschedule it. We’ll go wherever you like as soon as we get back.”
Numb to her toes, she stood, hand gripped tight around the phone. She began to shake, and she gulped back the sob in her throat.
“Catherine, are you there?”
“Y-yes. Of course. I’ll see what I can do.”
She thought she heard him sigh in relief. “I love you, baby. And I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Just a minute. Rhys wants to talk to you.”
She closed her eyes as Rhys’ deep voice came over the line.
“Cat?”
“I’m here,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. This deal has us by the balls. We’ll be back soon. I promise.”
She couldn’t even respond. She didn’t want to hear yet one more promise she now knew wouldn’t be kept. She murmured something appropriate, and then he said he had to go.
She eased the phone from her ear, sliding her thumb over the off button. Then she let it fall with a clank onto the table.
Not one word of their anniversary dinner that they’d blown off. They’d only called to cancel their vacation. The two-week trip she’d painstakingly planned, so excited that they’d agreed to go.
Her hands flew to her face, covering her eyes as tears seeped down her cheeks. Oh God, what had happened to them? She sank to the floor, the expensive wood hard against her stocking-clad knees.
It was time for her to face some hard facts. Her marriage was a mess. A disaster. And worse, she couldn’t fix it. God knew she’d tried. The problem wasn’t her, or lack of effort on her part. The problem was husbands who placed more importance on everything else in their lives but her. Husbands who took her complacence for granted.
She dragged herself to her feet and stumbled shakily toward the bedroom. When her gaze alighted on the trip itinerary on the nightstand, she closed her eyes and shook her head.
The trip was their last chance. One last effort on her part to put things right between them. To somehow capture something long missing in their relationship. She wanted so desperately to go back to the time when all that mattered was that they were together. In her mind, if she could just get them away for a few days, they would see how far off course they’d gone. And maybe they’d realize that they missed her as much as she missed them.
She went to the large walk-in closet and hauled out her packed suitcase, tossing it on the bed. She blinked and stared down at it. What was she doing?
I’ll tell you what you’re doing. You’re going on that trip. Without Rhys and Logan. I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.
She glanced again at the itinerary. Maybe some time away was exactly what she needed.
She stepped over to the nightstand and picked up the sheet of paper with her flight and hotel reservations. With a sigh, she sank onto the bed, the words blurring in her vision.
She couldn’t do this anymore. Pretend that everything was okay. When a wife didn’t see her husband more than a few hours a week, when that husband never remembered important dates, cancelled every plan they had together, it was time to face the truth. Her marriage was over. It had been for a very long time.
The paper shook in her hand. She wasn’t typically a hysterical ninny. She wasn’t prone to overreaction. She’d spent the last five years sucking it up and smiling while on the inside she ached. She’d played the understanding wife to the hilt.
Now looking back, she realized what a huge mistake she’d made. She had no one to blame but herself. But damn it, that didn’t mean she had to suffer any longer for it.
Galvanized to action, she stood and tugged her suitcase. She’d spend tonight in an airport hotel and catch her flight in the morning. Two weeks on a Jamaican beach sounded like a perfect amount of time to figure out what the hell she was going to do with the rest of her life.
CHAPTER TWO
Logan boarded his jet, a smug smile curving his lips. One disaster averted. And it had only taken him two days to accomplish it. Two endless, excruciating days of meetings, phone calls and conference calls with Rhys and Montford. But it was over. The deal was sealed, and he and Rhys were poised to land the biggest contract their company had ever netted.
He wanted to call Catherine and share in the joy with her, but a quick check of his watch told him it was after midnight Eastern Time. Instead he flipped open his phone and called Paige.
Her sleepy voice came over the line a moment later, and he cringed guiltily. He didn’t want to wake his wife, but he had no compunction about waking his assistant. A raise. She definitely deserved a raise.
“Paige, I’m on my way back. Rhys is flying in as well.”
“Do you need your driver at the airport?” she asked.
“No, we’ll take a cab to the apartment.” He paused for a moment. “Did you talk to Catherine?”
There was a long silence. “I wasn’t able to reach her either at home or her cell.”
Logan sighed. “She probably let her cell run down again. She’s forever forgetting to recharge it.”
“I went by your apartment after I couldn’t reach her,” Paige continued, her voice tight. He could almost swear she sounded angry. “Your doorman said she hasn’t been home in two days and that she left the same night you and Rhys flew out to San Francisco and Atlanta. The night of your anniversary, by the way.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! His hand tightened around the cell phone, and he closed his eyes as panic, sharp and unrelenting, flooded him.
Their anniversary. Their dinner date. He’d forgotten. And it wasn’t the first time. His chest tightened as he imag
ined Catherine sitting in the restaurant by herself, waiting for him and Rhys to show up. And how she must have felt when she realized they weren’t.
And then. God. He’d cancelled their trip.
How could he have forgotten? It wasn’t as though it had completely slipped his mind. Her present sat in his desk drawer at work, wrapped and ready to go. But as soon as the deal had started to go south, everything else fled his mind. His only priority had been salvaging the biggest contract of his career.
“Are you still there?”
Paige’s voice seeped into his consciousness. And then he realized what else she’d said. Alarm slammed into his chest.
“You said she’s gone,” he croaked. “That she hadn’t been home in two days. What else did the doorman say? Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Paige replied without an ounce of sympathy in her voice. “But I can’t say I blame her.”
His lips tightened. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Catherine’s a sweet girl, Logan, but she’s not going to be so forgiving forever. You and Rhys take advantage of her. Horribly. One of these days you’re going to look up, and she’s going to be gone. Maybe she already is. Hopefully she’ll end up with a man who’ll show her a little more appreciation.”
He couldn’t breathe. Paige’s words hit him like razor-sharp darts.
The phone went dead in his ear, but all he could process was the fact that Paige had said Catherine was gone.
He punched in the number to the apartment with shaky fingers. He waited as it rang. After the fourth time, the answering machine picked up, and he cursed.
“Catherine, baby, it’s me, Logan. Pick up, baby. I know you’re angry, but please, pick up the phone.”
He hung up and called right back, frustrated when he got the same result. He was redialing again when the plane pulled away from the terminal to begin its taxi.
Frustrated, he slapped the phone shut and flung it across the seat.
Where was she? Had something happened to her? Had she left the apartment upset and been in an accident? Fear gripped him. Or had she simply walked out?
No, Paige was wrong. Catherine understood. She always understood.
Understood what? That her husband is an asshole who can’t even remember their anniversary? He’d cancelled a trip he promised to take her on, hadn’t been around in more months than he could count, and he hadn’t made love to her in so long he ached.
He closed his eyes and banged his head against the back of the seat. Had she given up on him?
***
Rhys stepped off the plane and made his way up the exit corridor to the gate. He was tired as hell, but anticipation lightened his step as he imagined crawling into bed with Cat. God, he’d missed her. Right now a Jamaican beach and her in a thong sounded next to heaven.
A frown strained his lips as he tried to remember the last time he’d made love to Cat. The last months were all a blur of phone calls, business trips, endless meetings and negotiations. Uncertainty wedged its way into his chest. She had sounded so disappointed the night he and Logan had left. And now that he had a moment to breathe, he realized just how often he and Logan had been making excuses and apologies.
Suddenly he couldn’t wait to get home. He was going to talk to Logan about rescheduling that vacation they’d promised Cat. Soon.
He checked his watch then fished for his cell phone to turn it back on. Logan landed a half hour before him, and they were supposed to hook up and ride together back to the apartment.
As soon as the phone powered up, it beeped to tell him he had a voicemail. Or ten. Damn, that was a lot of missed calls. He frowned as he scrolled through and saw they were all from Logan.
He put the phone to his ear and picked up his pace to baggage claim.
“Rhys, meet me at the apartment. We’ve got a problem.”
He pulled the phone away with a frown. That was it? Goddamn Logan and his penchant for being short and providing no details. He punched in Logan’s cell number and waited impatiently for him to answer. When it went straight to voicemail, Rhys swore and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
Adrenaline pounded through his veins. Shit, had something happened to Cat? Fuck the baggage. He broke into a run toward passenger pick-up and cut in front of at least three people waiting for a taxi. He thrust a wad of bills at the driver.
“I’m in a hurry.”
The cabbie palmed the cash. “Yes sir.”
An eternity later, he jumped out of the cab and bolted into the building. He cursed the elevator’s slowness as he rode it to the top floor. When it opened, he stepped into the apartment and came up short when he saw Logan pacing the floor of the living room, phone to his ear.
“What do you mean you don’t have a record of Catherine Wellesley at your hotel? She has to be there. I’ve called every goddamn hotel in Jamaica.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys demanded.
Logan swiveled around, hurled an expletive to whoever he was talking to on the phone then slapped it shut.
“Catherine is gone,” he said hoarsely.
Rhys blinked as fear crawled up his spine. “Gone. What do you mean gone?”
“Haven’t you tried to call her in the last two days?” Logan asked, his voice angry.
“Yes, I have. I assumed she’d let her cell phone go down again, and you know as well as I do she rarely answers the apartment phone.”
“She’s gone,” Logan said again, and Rhys had to fight the urge to knock the hell out of him and demand that he get to the point.
“Where is she?” Rhys demanded.
“Hell if I know.” Logan ran a hand through his hair then closed his eyes. “We forgot our anniversary,” he said in a quieter voice. “Catherine made plans. Reservations. We were supposed to eat out, come home and spend the evening together then fly out to Jamaica the next morning. Only she ended up spending the night alone, and we cancelled the trip.”
“Where. Is. She. Now,” Rhys gritted out, afraid of what Logan would say next.
Logan rounded him, his eyes furious. “I don’t know! I wish to hell I did. Paige informed me that Catherine left the same night we did and hasn’t been home since. And then Paige told me what assholes we are.”
Rhys shook his head. He didn’t give a shit about Paige right now. He wanted to know where his wife was.
“The only thing missing is her luggage,” Logan said.
Relief settled over Rhys. Maybe she hadn’t left. As in walked out. Maybe she’d just gone on the trip. He couldn’t blame her if she had. He and Logan had treated her like shit.
“I’m going to call the damn pilot,” Logan muttered. “Have him fly us to Jamaica. If I have to personally go into every hotel on the island to find her, I will.”
It was a sad testament that neither of them even had a clue what hotel she’d booked for them. They’d left all the details to her and never expressed any interest in the plans. They were both bastards of the first order.
Rhys sighed. “Let me get some clothes. I left my bags at the airport after I got your message.”
“Make it quick. I’m calling down for the car now.”
Yeah, quick. Suddenly they were fast on the uptake and going after Catherine. Something they should have done a long time ago. They never should have made her feel like she wasn’t the most important thing in the world to them.
They. Hell. Fuck they. He shouldn’t have let things get to this point. His relationship with Cat wasn’t dependent on Logan’s. Yes, they had an unusual arrangement, but it didn’t mean that it gave him any free passes when it came to his responsibility to the woman he loved. It was time to dispense with the they in every statement and make Cat see how much she meant to him.
CHAPTER THREE
Jamaica
Logan watched as his wife gyrated in time to the funky beat of the music. Torches lit the stretch of sand cordoned off into a dance floor. Their flames flickered and cast shadows, dancing in time wit
h the throng of scantily clad partygoers.
God damn, he was tired, jet lagged, he hadn’t slept in three days, and now his wife, his woman, damn it, was weaving in and out of his line of vision, strange men touching her, lusting after her.
She looked like a sea nymph, her long blond hair tumbling free over her shoulders. He didn’t even remember the last time he’d seen it free of the loose knot she always shoved it into. Her usually pale skin glowed golden in the light of the torches. And her bikini. Where the fuck had she gotten the tiny scraps of material seemingly glued to strategic parts of her body?
The globes of her ass bounced provocatively, the thin string of her thong sliding seductively between the cheeks. His cock tightened and swelled at the memory of fucking her tight ass. A distant memory, since they hadn’t had sex in months.
When she whirled around, her breasts bobbed and strained against the slight cups. His hands itched as he imagined plucking and strumming the nipples.
She glowed. Her smile lit the entire night. In that moment, he was struck by the fact that he hadn’t seen her smile, hadn’t seen her look this happy in months.
An uncomfortable tension settled in his stomach. Had he made her so unhappy? Was Paige right? Was he in danger of losing her?
She left you, dumbass. Without a word. No note. No phone call. Took the vacation you promised to take with her. What do you think?
Yeah, he was going to lose her.
His hand trembled as he raised it rub the back of his neck. No, he wouldn’t lose her. Not without a damn fight.
Catherine smiled and laughed then raised her hands above her head and swayed to the frantic beat. The sand flew beneath her feet, and the cool ocean breeze whispered across her face.
Bodies flashed in and out of her vision in blurs of color. She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty air. For the space of a few minutes, she let her sadness go. She was here for a good time. A fresh start.
She danced closer to the incoming tide, and when she reached the perimeter of the crowd, she slipped away to walk down the beach.
