There was what he’d done—not telling me. But none of that mattered now.
All that mattered was what he planned to do.
Really, what could he do? She was his wife. She’d fucking come back from the dead, an exotic Lazarus with nice lingerie and a French accent.
I couldn’t compete with that. Or with her, with everything she’d doubtless been through. If anyone could put her back together again, it was Corbin. And he’d loved her first. Loved her longer. Surely loved her more.
The position I’d fallen into, a pillow bunched up under my neck, was cutting into my windpipe, making it hard to breathe as my weight slowly forced me deeper and deeper into the mattress. I tried to flip myself over, but it was too much work, so I just took smaller breaths. I was barely breathing anyway.
Maybe I’d just… stop. How peaceful that would be.
’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all. When I was in high school, that had been my mantra. I’d thought I was so clever, so funny.
Never to have lost at all.
I wondered if this was something I’d brought on myself. I’d always been the one who’d scoffed at my friends dreaming about weddings with guys who were obviously not good boyfriend material, guys who were probably not even good one-night-stand material.
Like my deep distrust of love and relationships was the reason that I’d fallen so hard for the man most capable of smashing my heart into smithereens.
“I’m done!” I gasped. It was supposed to be a primal scream, my I Will Survive moment. I flopped over and rubbed my neck, then shifted around so the uneven, crumpled-up bedding didn’t screw up my back. “I’m done,” I repeated. Because I was. I didn’t care if Corbin walked through the door, dropped to one knee and—
I felt a sob welling up, and I covered my face in my hands. But the tears never started. In fact, I was becoming… numb. It was cozy and warm, and I could wrap myself in it. Here, no one would hurt me. If I couldn’t feel anything, I couldn’t hurt.
My phone vibrated, and my heart rate skyrocketed. Telling myself I honestly didn’t care if it was Corbin or someone else, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and dried it on a sheet.
It was Frances. All my energy drained away.
Finally, I answered.
“Any update?” she asked.
“Not yet,” I said, squeezing my face up so that my distress wouldn’t crack through my voice. “I should have something for you in a few days, though.” The effort left me breathless.
“Please do,” she said. “I don’t like how serious the two of them are getting. I’m really worried, Audrey.”
After she hung up, I peeled off my soaked denim shorts and my shirt and took a hot shower. By the time I dressed and wrangled my curls into a ponytail, I had it all worked out.
I was going to figure out what this Massimo Swann was up to, and I was going to nail his ass to the wall. All Neil wanted was the love of a good man. Maybe Massimo was honorable, but I was proof that rushing into a relationship with a hot man only caused problems. If I could save Neil from future heartbreak, so much the better.
Because Neil’s home was only a fifteen-minute walk, and because I was overflowing with nervous energy that bordered on mania, and especially because I’d left my car in the opposite direction, I decided to walk.
Without the car, I’d be less visible anyway. I’d be able to get much closer to the condo without being observed.
I carried my little backpack of spy gear. Corbin had either bought or helped me choose most of the gadgets. When I’d packed, the whole time gnawing my lower lip raw, I’d come across the eavesdropping device he’d repaired the night Henry had tried to kill me, and I’d nearly hurled it at the wall.
All that history, all that fighting the universe so we could be together, and for what?
In the end, I’d left it on the bed. I had better gear.
The heat hadn’t backed off, but it was less humid, a touch breezier. The evening smelled of warm grass. Each step I took was an affirmation. I would survive this. Somehow.
Neil’s place was peaceful, a modern white stucco building modeled after a hacienda. Only four units, each with a separate entrance. Neil’s was the top left, and it was currently unlit.
Half a block away was a playground, I knew. No car meant nowhere to sit comfortably and wait, so I pushed through the gate that said No Admittance After Sunset—frankly, the sign wasn’t easy to read in the dark—and plopped myself onto a swing.
The night crawled by to the tune of crickets. Lightning bugs dotted the dark baseball field. I dug my sneakers into the wood chips under the swing set and twisted on my seat. Then I twisted back the other way.
My hands already smelled metallic, from the thick chains I gripped. I pushed back a few steps, then straightened my legs.
Wind rushed through my hair as I flew forward, a soothing sigh in my ears. I tucked my legs, leaned forward, threw my weight back, sailed higher.
I couldn’t help but wonder what Corbin was doing, if he was thinking about where he’d live with her, in which country. If he was delirious with relief and excitement and already resuscitating the life he’d put on hold. Kids. Building a home together.
He was thinking about kissing her after all this time apart. He was remembering the feel of her perfect body under his, the sounds she made as she orgasmed.
There was nothing but openness around me, but I felt like I was being squeezed on all sides. I had to stop thinking. Had to let it go.
My teeth dug into my lower lip until the distressing thoughts and images were replaced with cold, distracting pain.
Crunching my stomach hard, I curled forward, putting all my effort into forcing the swing higher. I floated up, nothing above me but stars as old as time itself. Those stars had seen everything, had watched supernovas and the births of new galaxies.
What was the human heart compared to a star? My wounds were insignificant. With time, I wouldn’t even remember him. I wondered if I could ask to be put into a coma until then—
Half a block away, a faint light flashed on in Neil’s condo, and I brought myself to a jarring halt, the ends of my ponytail slapping against my face, stinging my cheeks. A figure passed by the window, too fast, too far away to tell me anything useful.
Feeling at once close to hysterics but also strangely settled, I peeled my sticky, sweaty ass off the swing and went back to the condo. A glance around the street showed a white Mercedes convertible that I didn’t recognize from earlier. As I passed it, I skimmed a hand over the hood. It was hot. Not that I’d had any doubt.
Creeping around the back of the building, I quickly realized Neil’s windows were open. A man’s voice floated out, the words just out of my reach.
I dug into my spy bag and found what I needed. I fitted one of the earpieces into place.
“You weren’t listening when I told you I wasn’t in the mood for oysters,” a heavily accented voice said. Massimo, obviously. “What was I supposed to do? Gag them down?” It sounded like lover’s talk, half whine, half serious.
There was the sound of a chair dragging out. Was someone sitting or standing? I couldn’t tell.
A microwave dinged. “They’re mushy, but you can have some,” Massimo said.
“No, because I ate my dinner, thank you.” That had to be Neil. His voice had the same slightly nasal quality as his grandmother’s.
I used a piece of putty to stick a mic on the side of the building, and I moved about thirty feet away, finding myself a shadowy spot under an enormous oak. As I sat, my back supported by the trunk, I couldn’t help but admit that it felt like leaning up against Corbin.
He wasn’t mine, had never been. I just hadn’t realized it.
With a shudder, I shoved him out of my mind. I was here to work. To build my future, to make something no one could take away.
Filled with a desperate sense of purpose, I dug out the small binoculars.
Inside the apartment, the men were
watching television. Out of sight, but I saw the flashes of light on the wall. I yawned and pulled my knees to my chest, the movement bringing my back away from the tree until I balanced on my own.
I yawned again. It wasn’t that late, maybe 10:00. But I was exhausted from the stress. I didn’t need to stay long… just an hour, maybe two. Enough to give me a sense of their relationship dynamic. At the very least, I needed to figure out if Frances’s dislike of Massimo was simply because of the circumstances or if there was something about the way he treated Neil that she was subconsciously picking up on.
While I listened to the men lovingly taunt each other—and I was ready to bolt if they started getting intimate—I thought about my own future.
In particular, Jennifer’s offer.
Despite what I’d moaned about to Rob, I liked being a bounty hunter. I was also pretty sure private investigation would fit my personality. Especially if it involved finding people who weren’t criminals.
When Corbin had offered to hire me the weekend we met, I’d thought he was one of the bad guys. After I’d found out he wasn’t the outlaw I’d believed, I’d begged to work for him, but he’d retracted the offer because he planned to retire.
It wouldn’t hurt to find out what Jennifer had in mind.
“I want to go out,” Massimo was saying through my earpiece. “Let’s get a drink.”
“Where?”
“At Boom-Boom Room?”
There was a pause. I hoped not Boom-Boom Room. It was expensive. Exclusive. And… mostly wealthy gay men looking for discreet hookups. They’d probably let me in, but I’d stick out. Not the best way to investigate someone.
“Boom-Boom Room could work,” Neil said, sounding reluctant. I groaned.
I waited until it was absolutely clear they were going, then I jogged home. I changed into a shag mini-dress and heels. Corbin had bought me this outfit, and if I’d had something else appropriate, I would have worn it.
As I stared at my reflection, I wondered what the hell I was doing. I needed to give myself time to heal. To prepare for whatever was coming.
Instead, I texted Jennifer, tossed my phone on the bed so I wouldn’t be tempted to stare at it all night, then called a cab to take me to my car.
Chapter 9
Boom-Boom Room was absolutely packed. The doorman didn’t ask me for my ID, and I remembered what Frances had once said about how I wasn’t getting any younger.
As predicted, the patrons were overwhelmingly male. The estrogen contingent occupied a single table in the corner. Something told me not to go over and say hello unless I was willing to flirt, or more.
Choosing a seat at the bar, I glanced at the insanely expensive bar menu—good thing I still had no appetite—then ordered myself a virgin mojito.
The music, jazz remixes, wasn’t too loud. The club itself? Not bad. Too fancy for me, but if I’d been richer and cooler, it was the sort of place where I’d have hung out.
It didn’t take long to locate Massimo and Neil. A small crowd had formed around them, the men practically undressing Massimo with their eyes. I couldn’t blame them. The guy was gorgeous, far more attractive than in his photos. If my sex drive hadn’t been permanently flattened earlier that day, I would have been part of the mob wanting to see those tight black pants of his disappear.
He had his thumbs hooked in the belt loops even though the pants already rode scandalously low on his hips. I wondered how much they’d cost and who the designer was. Massimo clearly liked the attention, the limelight.
Neil, not so much. He was nursing a drink, not talking to anyone.
Personally, going out to have other people ogle my partner didn’t sound like a recipe for fun times, but Neil didn’t seem uncomfortable, just distant, and when Massimo leaned in for a kiss, Neil practically jumped into his arms.
Maybe spying on two people in love wasn’t the smartest decision I’d ever made. Regretting my decision to forego alcohol, I drained half my fake mojito.
Jennifer walked in. She stood out immediately, wearing a white button-down shirt and black pants and a black blazer. Basically, she looked like a government agent. I watched her dance her way through the men, her lithe body graceful.
She smiled cautiously when she saw me. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but I see you already have one.” She picked up my glass and wiggled it at the bartender. He nodded, and I pulled my glass out of her hands.
“That was fast,” I said.
“It so happens that I was in the area.” She ran her long, delicate fingers through her hair and tied it back with an elastic. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“One of those weeks.”
Compassion softened her pretty features. “I guess Corbin told you, then. He and I were never close. However… He cares for you. Whatever happens, you should know that.”
“Let’s talk about the job.”
Her eyes searched mine. “I’m glad you decided to hear me out. You’re talented, you know. What you did in Florida impressed quite a few of us.”
I grimaced at the memory: me spying on Henry Heigh. An awful combination that had landed me a complimentary stay in a safe house. That was when I’d met Jennifer, actually. She’d been my babysitter.
“You’re one of us,” she continued. “You have that hunter’s instinct. What I propose is that you join us as a consultant. It will allow you to continue your regular job, for the most part—”
“I texted you because I’ve already made up my mind. When do I start?”
She smiled uncertainly. “Forgive me for being surprised, but you were quite adamant about not wanting the job. What changed?”
I felt, suddenly, like people were staring. Jennifer was definitely staring. I shrugged because I didn’t want to get into it.
“Well. There’s the formal application—”
“Fast forward. Training, assignments and so on.” I thought of the addition to the office building. “And pay.”
Her brow furrowed. “I have a file with the details,” she said. “But not on me. I’d thought I was coming out here to talk you into it. Perhaps we can meet tomorrow, at your place?”
“How much training before I can start?”
She looked surprised again but hid it faster. “Well, you already know many of the things we’d want to train. You’re observant, you’ve honed your memory, and I believe you have basic self-defense skills?”
Behind Jennifer, I saw a grinning Massimo pull his boyfriend toward the bathroom. Neil didn’t look thrilled. Maybe I wasn’t an expert on relationships, but the prospect of sex was supposed to make people happy.
“Do you have a dog?” I asked Jennifer, my eyes on the departing couple.
“A dog?”
“Yeah. I need to borrow one for a few hours tomorrow afternoon.”
“That… can be arranged.”
“Fantastic.” I stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
Twenty minutes later, I was nervously letting myself into Neil’s apartment.
Breaking into homes was bad karma, but Frances was worried, she was my client, and she’d given me permission to enter. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek around, see if I spotted anything out of the ordinary.
A pile of unopened mail was stacked on the table next to the door. I popped a flashlight into my mouth and shuffled through the envelopes. Utility bills. Requests from charities. Credit card bills from high-end stores. The ones near the bottom of the stack were open, so I helped myself.
Now I knew that Neil was paying for Massimo’s designer duds. Hardly a surprise, but the bills weren’t exorbitant… It wasn’t like Massimo was bleeding him dry.
Maybe Massimo was a gold digger of low ambitions.
Next I took a look in the dining and living rooms, then the bedroom. Above the king-sized bed, the wall was covered in a series of framed photos of the happy couple at a water park. Nothing suspicious.
I was frowning as I slipped back outside. Massimo’s penchant for
expensive clothes aside, I hadn’t found anything that warranted hiring an investigator. As I doubted she’d seen Massimo drag Neil off for kinky bar sex, I couldn’t imagine what her objection was. It had to be more than the income disparity.
In the morning, I’d have to call her, get more details.
As I walked down the street, toward my car which was parked around the corner, I saw the white convertible rolling toward me. The top was down, and as it passed, I heard Neil say, “You stared at him the entire time. It was humiliating.”
“You’re being jealous over nothing. It’s such a turnoff, you have no idea. Who did I blow in the bathroom? Him or you?”
“You can’t fix everything with a blow job, Massimo!”
For a moment, I considered backtracking. If they were fighting, something interesting might come out.
But it was late, and I needed sleep.
When I got home, I looked at my phone and saw I had ten missed calls from Corbin. No messages, though.
Yeah, it was about what I expected from a guy who felt duty bound to one woman but was in love with another. He’d reached out just enough to prove he wasn’t heartless, but not enough to prove that he actually gave a crap.
He had a key. He could have come over.
I flipped on the ceiling fan and got into bed. Every little sound made me think he was in the hallway, that he was coming to talk to me. Even though I was so exhausted that my vision was getting blurry, I stared at the slowly turning blades until the sun’s first rays stretched into my bedroom.
Nights had always belonged to Corbin.
Chapter 10
The next day was painful. I worked hard at keeping myself busy, trying to stay distracted. But I was exhausted from lack of sleep, and I found myself repeatedly staring off into space.
At 3:00, Rob walked into Dad’s office. He’d been running around most of the day. I moved my stuff over, out of his space. Sharing a desk wasn’t easy.
Dared by a Dangerous Man Page 7
