The Divorce Party

by Jennifer Hayward

  He could cheat on her again. He could actually cheat this time. And there was nothing she could do but believe he would never do it. And she did. Because he was the only man who could turn her world from dark to light.

  She could only hope that this didn’t turn out to be her biggest mistake. That once he saw the messy, frightened truth of her he didn’t run in the opposite direction.

  Pleasure coursed through her, wave after wave, as his body swelled inside her, making it impossible to think. To worry. She closed her eyes and rocked her hips and took him over the edge. And let go of everything except her love for him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE DEEP TIMBRE of male voices greeted Lilly as she let herself into the townhouse. Her husband’s smooth, rich baritone slid down her spine in a delicious reminder of how he’d woken her up this morning. A husky prompt to get out of bed, her own teasing reply, then a spark that burst into a flame that put both of them fifteen minutes behind schedule.

  She kicked off her shoes. She was happy—so happy she felt as if she was floating on air. As if she’d figured out the secret of life.

  Gabe’s voice floated in from the terrace. A male with a deeper, more heavily accented tone responded. Antonio?

  A twinge of disappointment sliced through her. She’d been hoping for another quiet night at home with Riccardo. Tonight she’d intended on telling him about Lisbeth. She couldn’t hold off any longer because she was to fly to Switzerland in a couple of weeks. Finally she felt sure enough of what she and Riccardo had to tell him.

  She was making peace with the past. She’d gone home for her mother’s birthday a week ago. It hadn’t been perfect. But it was progress. And now she would wipe any remaining secrets from her and Riccardo’s relationship.

  She waved at Magda in the kitchen before joining the men on the terrace.

  “Cara.” Riccardo’s dark eyes lit with pleasure. “You’re just in time to celebrate with us.”

  She crossed to his side and smiled up at him. “Celebrate what?”

  Antonio strolled over and pressed a kiss to her cheeks. “I’ve just told Riccardo I am backing him as the next CEO of De Campo.”

  Her gaze lifted to her husband’s. A quiet gleam of satisfaction burned in his eyes.

  “Congratulations,” she murmured, reaching up to brush a kiss across his cheek.

  His lifted brow told her she would do better than that later. She smiled and tamped down her anxiety at the confirmation of what she’d known was coming but had secretly been dreading.

  They had just gotten themselves back on track. Now the craziness would begin.

  “Content to tend your vines?” she teased Gabe, walking over to greet him.

  He smiled that serious Gabe smile she loved and kissed her. “The most crucial job in the company—si.”

  She laughed and drew back. “But of course.”

  “I intend to endorse Riccardo tomorrow at the board meeting,” Antonio said, nodding at his son.

  Her throat tightened. It was all happening so quickly.

  She moved back to Riccardo’s side and slipped an arm around his waist. He would make a far better leader for De Campo than Antonio had. He would inspire the best in those who worked for him without using fear or intimidation as a threat. And she—she would shine for him. Riccardo needed her by his side, needed her to be the softness when everything else was a million-dollar decision. And this time she would not let the pressure get to her. She had the tools in place to manage her stress.

  The De Campo men stayed for dinner. Tonight there was no need for Gabe to be his usual buffer between Antonio and Riccardo. There was rare harmony at the table. And she wondered, moving her gaze over her handsome, quietly confident brother-in-law, what it must have been like always to be the peacekeeper—always to be second best. In any other company Gabe would have made a brilliant CEO. Instead he made brilliant wine.

  And maybe that was all he wanted.

  After dinner Antonio excused himself to make a call. Lilly checked with Magda about dessert, then slipped out onto the terrace to get a breath of fresh air. The summer night was on the chilly side and she wrapped her arms around herself and stared up at the sky. It was so rare to see stars in Manhattan that the smattering overhead held her attention.

  “My son’s about to become one of the most powerful men on the planet.” Antonio stepped out of the shadows and slid his mobile phone into his pocket. “Are you ready for this, Lilly?”

  She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. What was it about these De Campo men, always trying to intimidate her?

  “You must think I can or you wouldn’t have mandated our reconciliation.”

  “Scusi?”

  She gave him a level look. “Your condition, Antonio, for throwing your weight behind Riccardo. I take it our reconciliation has cemented your choice?”

  He lifted a brow. “The performance of the company dictated my choice.”

  “But you wanted us to reconcile?”

  He shrugged. “You’re good for my son. I’ve always thought you had an excellent grounding effect on him. But it had nothing to do with my decision.”

  Her brain spun in a confused circle. “But you made our reconciliation a condition for your support.”

  An amused look spread across his face. “If Riccardo said that he was using it as a way to get you back. You must know my son by now... He is solely focused on getting what he wants and damn the consequences.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. Either Antonio or Riccardo was lying.

  She prayed it was her father-in-law.

  An icy numbness spread through her limbs. She lifted trembling hands to her face. “I—I think I’m going to go back inside. It’s getting chilly out here.”

  She was halfway across the patio when Antonio’s voice stopped her. “You look upset—but why? Riccardo may be ruthless in going after what he wants, mia cara, but is it so bad if he loves you that much?”

  It was bad if he had lied to her without compunction. If he had preyed upon her in a moment of weakness, dangling a divorce in front of her she now wasn’t sure he’d ever intended to give her.

  “De Campos don’t divorce.”

  He had never intended to let her go.

  She excused herself from dessert, uncaring of her husband’s concerned glance, sweeping upstairs before he had a chance to press her. She immersed her three and a half months pregnant body in a hot bath, desperate for something to soothe her. Desperate not to believe the man she had fallen in love with all over again could have lied to her like that when he had demanded honesty from her.

  Damn him. She struggled to come up with a reason, an alternative explanation for why he’d done what he’d done. But there weren’t any. There was nothing that excused what he’d done.

  She closed her eyes and let the steaming water attack the numbness that had consumed her. Riccardo hadn’t technically lied when he had talked about what had happened with Chelsea Tate. But it had been a lie by omission. And now he had lied again.

  It was crazy. She’d wanted him to want her that much. She’d wanted him to do exactly as she’d fantasized in the limo the night of their divorce party. To ride down her street on a white horse, climb through her window and carry her home.

  But now she was afraid he was still the same old Riccardo, just cloaked in a new suit. The Riccardo who would use any weapon at his disposal to get what he wanted.

  No. She slapped her hand against the water, sending bubbles flying. He had stood there on that terrace in Barbados and sworn to her they were going to create a marriage based on honesty and trust. And she had eaten it up like the naive Iowa farm girl she obviously still was.

  Her insides crumbled. She’d made herself completely vulnerable to him. She had trusted him with her darkest secre
ts, trusted him to take care of her and their baby. And he had violated that trust.

  Just like with everything else in her past—every time her parents’ relationship had gone through a good patch and they’d actually been happy together, every time the farm had gone into the black and she’d been able to buy a new dress, or that bittersweet moment in Westchester when she’d thought she had everything she’d ever wanted—this brief moment of happiness had been taken from her. Just as she’d feared it would be.

  She didn’t know what was real anymore.

  The moment he entered the room she sensed him. The air thickened around her. His grim appraisal as she opened her eyes made her sink further under the water.

  “What’s going on, Lilly?”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You promised me honesty. You promised we could trust each other.”

  He nodded, his dark gaze fixed intently on her. “Si. Have I given you any reason to doubt me?”

  She sat up and reached for the sides of the tub with shaking hands. “You lied to me, Riccardo. You lied to me about this whole crazy deal.”

  He paled. “What did Antonio say to you?”

  “That you’re a selfish bastard who’ll do whatever it takes to get what you want.” She stood up and jabbed a finger at him. “I trusted you. You told me we were starting over without any lies between us.”

  He took a step toward her. “I might have taken some artistic liberty with my wording, but Antonio did want us back together.”

  “You told me Antonio’s support depended on us getting back together.” She was shaking so hard she could hardly get the words out. “It was a bold-faced lie.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” he shot back tightly. “You wouldn’t see me, you wouldn’t talk to me, but you knew I wasn’t going to give up.”

  Heat blazed through her. “You were supposed to woo me. You were supposed to come sit on my doorstep every night for a week, like you did when we first started dating. You were not supposed to coerce me into a reconciliation.”

  She stood there shivering violently. He grasped her wrists and pulled her out of the tub, wrapped a towel around her.

  “Wooing wasn’t working.”

  “The deal was a lie,” she said dully. “And the only reason I accepted it was because of Lisbeth.”

  “Lisbeth?”

  “Her leukemia is back. She needed treatment and I needed the money. So I agreed to your deal.”

  His expression darkened. “You agreed to reconcile with me because Lisbeth needed treatment? Hell, Lilly, what kind of a monster do you think I am that I wouldn’t have given you that money if you’d told me?”

  “I didn’t want to be beholden to you. I didn’t trust you. And look—” she threw her hands up in the air “—guess I was right.”

  His mouth flattened into a thin line, the nostrils of his Roman nose flaring. “You accuse me of not being completely honest when you are withholding things like that from me?”

  “It has nothing to do with us.”

  “It has everything to do with us. We are a family, Lilly. We support each other.”

  “Well, now you’ve got your family,” she bit out, feeling her world fall apart. “Wife, baby—you’ve got everything you ever wanted, just like you always do.”

  He closed his eyes, his long dark lashes sweeping down over his cheeks. “It was never about that,” he denied huskily. “I swear to you—it was never about that. I was—I was desperately in love with you, Lilly, and I needed you back.”

  Her heart stopped. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to breathe, forcing her heart to start again—because surely he would not use that tactic on her now. Not after she’d spent weeks desperate to hear him say it.

  She pulled the towel tight around her, fingers clenching the material. “How many other things have you lied to me about?”

  “Nothing.” His voice vibrated with emotion. “Lilly—”

  She held up a hand. “No more.”

  He ignored her and pulled her into his arms. The strength and breadth of him dwarfed her, so achingly familiar she wanted to howl at the want in her.

  His gaze bored into hers. “You are not a possession. You and this baby we are going to have are the most precious things in my life. How could I have let myself lose you? I couldn’t let that happen.”

  Hot tears escaped her eyes, running down her cheeks like a river of fire. She beat her hands against his chest, desperate for him to hurt as much as she was hurting. “I needed this to be real. I needed us to be real this time.”

  “We are. Lilly—”

  “No.” She wrenched herself out of his arms, the towel falling into a heap on the floor. “You know what Alex said to me before we left for Barbados? ‘Whatever you do, don’t get pregnant...’ Because that was the one thing that would complicate a relationship that didn’t need complicating.” She closed her eyes. “And what do I do? I let exactly that happen. And now look at us.”

  He eyed her wild, naked stance apprehensively, as if she were a keg of dynamite poised to go off. “Let’s get some clothes on you,” he suggested quietly, “and then we’ll talk.”

  She stalked past him into the bedroom and reached for the first piece of clothing she could lay her hands on. He followed, watching as she pulled on a T-shirt and jeans.

  “Listen, I know you’re emotional, cara, but—”

  “I am not emotional.” She wrenched her hair from underneath her T-shirt and whipped to face him. “I am crushed and I am saddened and I am disappointed in you. But I am not hormonal.”

  If she sounded insane she was past caring. “I need some time to myself,” she muttered, turning back to search for a sweater. “Away from here. Away from you.”

  “You are not running away again.”

  “You’re right.” She swiped a sweater off a chair and shoved her arm in a sleeve. “I’m walking. Maybe to the Brooklyn Bridge. Who knows?”

  He moved forward, took her by the shoulders and spun her around. His eyes were black, stormy. “You can throw away a million rings and I will still come after you.”

  She squared her shoulders. “I need time. Do not follow me. Don’t have anyone follow me, for that matter. Or I swear to God you’ll push me over the edge.”

  She turned and walked out the door. The stars were still shining brightly when she climbed into Riccardo’s Jag and reversed it down the driveway. But this time she didn’t look up.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  RICCARDO KNOTTED HIS tie with fingers that weren’t quite steady. This should have been the most important day of his life—the day his father anointed him the new head of De Campo. It should have been the crowning glory of three years spent proving to Antonio that he had what it took—that this was his company and his vision was the future. That the passion in his veins ran as deep as it did through his father’s.

  But his wife was gone. His pregnant wife was gone. And he had no idea where she was, what her state of mind was, or what he was supposed to do with the unfamiliar feeling of helplessness pulsing through him. Giving a speech to the board that painted a vision of De Campo’s future seemed inconceivable.

  His hands dropped away from his tie. Lilly had made it clear she needed space. If he had denied it to her, gone after her, he would have lost her.

  If he hadn’t already.

  He shrugged on his jacket, lifted his collar clear of the dark gray Armani that was his good luck suit—the suit he’d been wearing the night he’d met Lilly in that bar—and refused even to contemplate the possibility. Instead he thought about the twists and turns life could take. Antonio had wanted to raise racehorses. He’d ended up with vines and a company that had brought him success beyond his wildest dreams. Motor racing had been his passion, but he’d grown to love the business that was bigger
than him, bigger than his brothers and his father now. De Campo had come to signify luxury and refinement on a global scale. It was bigger than all of them. He would be the man who took it to new heights. Who exploited its raw potential.

  Sometimes things happened that were beyond your control.

  Sometimes you made them happen with your own arrogance and stupidity.

  He stared at his reflection in the mirror, searching for some sign of life in his perfectly tailored appearance. A machine stared back at him. None of this meant anything without Lilly. He could handle the dull throb he woke with every day he wasn’t racing as long as she was by his side. But he could not fathom the future without her.

  His chest ached with the need to have his wife back.

  Shaking it off—shaking it off because he had to—he straightened his shoulders and went downstairs to where Tony was waiting with the car. His longtime driver said hello, gave him a quick look, and eliminated his usual witty banter.

  Riccardo slid into the backseat and pressed his head against the leather. He’d felt justified in coercing Lilly into the deal because it had been the only weapon he’d had against her refusal to see him. Because he loved her. He was so used to having to fight tooth and nail to get what he wanted from Antonio he’d carried that same demeanor into his personal life. Strategize and conquer. But with all of his and Lilly’s trust issues he should have known better. He should have at least come clean when he’d had the chance to in Barbados.

  Muddled thinking from a man who had seen the destructive effects of secrets harbored.

  He clasped his hands together in his lap and looked down at the gleaming gold wedding band Lilly had placed on his finger. He’d been forgiven once. Would he be forgiven again? Or had he made one mistake too many?