Passion and Peril: Scenes of PassionScenes of Peril

by Suzanne Brockmann

  “If I don’t come out in fifteen minutes,” Maggie told her brother, “call the police.”

  Matt staggered back. “Oh, my God, do you really think I’m going to hurt you?”

  “You already have,” she told him.

  “How?” he asked, his eyes searching her face. “Christ, Maggie, tell me what this is about.”

  She went out of the office and up the stairs.

  “Maggie, talk to me,” he pleaded, following her to the room where she kept her clothes. “I love you, and you loved me. We’re married—”

  She spun to face him. “Not anymore.”

  “Why not?” he shouted, desperation in his face, the codicil to the will crushed in his fists. “Damn it, Maggie, you tell me why the hell not!”

  “Okay, fine,” she said. “We’ll play this your way. Play the whole game out. The codicil states that you automatically inherit if you get married before the end of the fiscal quarter. But you can’t marry just anyone. The conditions are listed quite clearly in the fifth paragraph.”

  He smoothed the crumpled paper and read. And realization crossed his face.

  “Oh, bravo,” Maggie applauded. “One thing I can say about you, Matt, is that you truly are a brilliant actor. But save it for the Academy Awards, because I know you’ve already seen this codicil. I found a copy in your briefcase.”

  “If it was there, I didn’t know it,” he protested.

  She laughed. “You know, I might’ve believed you. But combined with the rest of it...”

  “What rest of it?” He was mad as hell now, too.

  “All the lies.” She roughly wrestled her gym bag from the top shelf of the closet. As she spoke, she began pulling her clothes from the drawers and piling them on the bed. “All this time they were right, but I was stupid enough to believe you—”

  “Who was right?”

  “Angie—”

  “Damn it! I should have known she was somewhere behind this!”

  “And Dan Fowler.”

  “He’s not exactly the president of my fan club, either,” Matt shouted. “So come on, I’m dying to hear. What did they tell you?”

  “That you’re a liar,” Maggie shouted back. “And they’re right! You lied to me, you bastard. You used tricks and lies to get me to marry you!”

  “God, Maggie, you don’t really think that, do you? I thought you believed in me, that you trusted me....” He voice shook and he broke off. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Damn it.”

  The pain on his face was only an act. A tear escaped and slid down his face. It, too, was just part of his crap. “I never lied to you,” he said.

  “Gee, I don’t know,” she said as she packed as much as she could into her gym bag. “I’d call telling someone that you have cancer when you really don’t more than a little white lie, wouldn’t you?” She turned to face him. “I called the cancer center, Matt. They never heard of you. You were never there.

  “You told me that you never went out with Van, but I heard you talking to her about going parking at Wildwood!” She stopped to take a deep breath. “You lied right to my face when I asked you about her!”

  “No,” he said, “I can’t believe that’s what you think—”

  She plowed right over him. “But the biggest lie of all was when you married me.” It was harder and harder for her to hold back her tears. “You said you loved me, but I know that’s not true. I know why you married me, and it has nothing to do with love.”

  The look on his face would’ve broken her heart if she hadn’t known it was all an act.

  “But you know what?” she whispered. “I lied, too, when I told you I’d love you forever. Because I sure as hell don’t love you anymore.”

  Matt turned and walked out of the room.

  He came back a moment later carrying an empty suitcase. He set it down on the bed. “I’ll get Stevie to help you carry your things out,” he said quietly. He was almost out the door when he turned back. “I thought you believed in me, Maggie. I thought you had faith in me. But why should you be different from anyone else?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  AS MAGGIE WALKED into the auditorium, she saw Matt immediately, standing by the stage. He was dressed all in black, and he was surrounded by most of the female cast members. Still, he looked up at her as if he had some sort of sixth sense and could tell when she was around.

  A wave of misery descended upon her, and Maggie knew in a flash that she would have to move away. She couldn’t stay in town with Matt living here, too. It would be horrible to be reminded constantly of what a blind fool she’d been.

  “Places!” called Dolores. “We’re doing a complete run-through tonight, and we’re taking it from the top.”

  Maggie dumped her bag into a seat and tiredly climbed the stairs to the stage.

  Aware of Matt’s eyes on her as he watched from the wings, she found it difficult to concentrate on the show. God, any minute he was going to come out, and she was going to have to kiss him.

  She had to stay mad. If she could stay good and mad at the bastard, she’d be able to get through this.

  Matt watched Maggie and felt like crying. When had it happened? When had she begun to doubt him? Or had she mistrusted him all along?

  If that was the kind of person she was, then he didn’t want her. Good riddance. She’d done him a favor by leaving.

  Up on the shoulders of the men’s chorus, Maggie smiled dazzlingly.

  Desire stirred and he closed his eyes, angry at his reaction to her. She didn’t trust him—and he still wanted her.

  And in less than a minute, he was going to have to kiss her.

  Damn it. He couldn’t do this.

  But the stage manager gave him his cue, and he went out onto the stage. The lights hit him, and there he was. Standing right in front of Maggie. Their gazes locked. Somehow his mouth opened and the lines he’d memorized came out.

  She seemed so unaffected, so calm.

  But as he pulled her in for the kiss, he saw a flash of anger in her eyes. His own anger began to build, and he kissed her hard, too hard, hating himself for still wanting her, and knowing that before the night was through, he was going to go to her and beg her to come back to him.

  * * *

  MAGGIE SAT IN one of the dark corners backstage, praying for the fifteen-minute break between acts to end. She was using every ounce of her energy just being onstage with Matt—she didn’t want to use it up confronting him offstage.

  But he found her. “Maggie.”

  He was backlit, and his face was in the shadows. She stood up, prepared to move out into the auditorium—anywhere to get away from him.

  But he caught her arm. “We have to talk.”

  She pulled away. “There’s nothing to say.”

  He followed her onto the stage, out into the light. “There’s a hell of a lot to say. Come on. At least give me a chance to defend myself.”

  “Just leave me alone.”

  “Maggie, God, please. I love you.”

  She looked up at him and saw his eyes filled with tears and all of her anger came roaring back.

  “Good delivery. You sound very sincere. But the tears are a little too much, don’t you think?” She pushed her hair off her face, working hard to keep her hand from shaking. “Give up, Matt. I don’t believe you. Besides, you don’t need me anymore. I won’t file for an annulment. We’ll get a divorce—after you’ve gotten the inheritance.”

  “You really think that’s what this is about?” he asked. “Money?”

  She didn’t say a word.

  He nodded. “You loved me enough to marry me,” he said. “You owe me at least the chance to tell you—”

  “I owe you nothing,” she said.

  “How can you say that
?” Matt felt sick. Did she really believe that? “You should talk to your sister. If you don’t believe me, you should ask her. And I’ll call my doctor at the center—he’ll call you. Or you can call him. I was there—”

  “Forget it, Matt,” Maggie told him. “I just don’t care.”

  Matt stared at her. She didn’t care. He was ready to beg, to plead, to crawl, but damn it, she was the one who had done him wrong. She was the one who didn’t trust him. He was even ready to accept that she’d found him guilty until proved innocent if it meant he’d have her back.

  But she didn’t care.

  The last bit of hope that he’d been carrying evaporated, and his heart broke.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “WHERE THE HELL is he?” Dan Fowler stormed. “I knew it. I knew I should never have trusted that bastard with the lead to my show!”

  “My brother works with Matt,” Maggie told him. “I just spoke to him on the phone—he says he hasn’t heard from him all day.”

  Outside, a storm was raging, and thunder crackled deafeningly, directly overhead.

  “Beautiful, just beautiful.” Dan groaned. “You guys had a fight, didn’t you?”

  “We split up,” Maggie said, and saying the words aloud made her sick.

  “And now he’s gone.” Dan started to pace as he swore. “The understudy is awful. We’ll have to modify the dance numbers....”

  “I think you should just take a deep breath,” Maggie said, “because Matt wouldn’t just blow off the show. He’s going to be here.”

  Dan stopped pacing and stared at her. “You look like you’ve been run over by a truck. This guy does that to you, and still you defend him?”

  “I just don’t believe he would desert us one day before opening night,” Maggie insisted. “He’ll be here.”

  “Jeez, somehow I didn’t expect you to be my champion.”

  Maggie whirled around to see Matt standing behind them. He looked exhausted. And he was soaking wet.

  Dan swore at him, loud and long. “You’re late. We’re paying our orchestra by the hour, damn you. Where the hell have you been?”

  Matt finally stopped looking at Maggie. “We’re getting tidal flooding from this storm. I’ve been organizing work crews at the factory—sandbagging. I should have called, but for the past hour I’ve been on the verge of getting into my car and coming over here. But there was always one more person who needed to talk to me. I apologize for being late.”

  “Places!” Dan was already yelling. “Get Stone into costume and makeup! Now!”

  * * *

  AFTER THE DRESS rehearsal ended, Maggie reached over her shoulder to unzip the evening gown she wore for the show’s closing number. She pulled the zipper down as far as she could, then reached around behind her, struggling to find the tiny pull.

  A warm hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she felt the zipper slide all the way down.

  Holding the dress to her front, she turned to face Matt.

  Matt.

  Tonight she’d run out of anger. All she could feel was the hurt. And boy, did it hurt bad. Because despite everything he’d done, she still loved him.

  His eyes were angry, the way they’d been all night long, but his face and words were polite, cordial. “You did well tonight.”

  Maggie laughed humorlessly. “I know exactly how well I did. This is an endurance test for me, Matt. I can’t wait until it’s over.”

  He nodded then, his eyes dark with misery now. “Yeah, me, too.” He cleared his throat. “I just wanted you to know that I’m going to go back to California after the fiscal quarter. I’ve already contacted a divorce lawyer and...I want you to have the house.”

  She stared at him.

  “There’s no way I could stay in town with you living here, too,” he said quietly. “I know you love it here, and...”

  “That’s...that’s insane,” she said. That house had to be worth millions.

  “It’s no more insane than any of the rest of this,” he told her as he walked away.

  * * *

  MAGGIE STOOD BACKSTAGE in the dark, listening to the sounds of the people who had begun to fill the seats of the auditorium.

  It was ten minutes to curtain on opening night.

  Matt was in makeup, already in character, joking and laughing with everyone in sight.

  She closed her eyes, wishing it could be that easy for her, too, wishing she could just snap her fingers and become someone else, if only for a little while.

  But Lucy, her character, was too much like herself. It wasn’t enough of an escape.

  “Yo, Mags,” came a whispered voice.

  She turned to see Stevie. He was wearing blue jeans that were crusty with dried mud and a T-shirt that was no longer white.

  “Well, gee,” she said. “You got dressed up for the occasion.”

  He grinned. “I’m coming to the show tomorrow night. With Danny.” He laughed. “We actually have a real date. Matt’s even letting me borrow the Maserati.”

  “A date?” Maggie said. “You mean you finally—”

  “Yeah, I finally took your advice,” Stevie said. “See, we were out with the gang, and I just couldn’t stand it another second. I said, ‘Danny, I’m madly in love with you, and if you don’t kiss me right this second, I’m gonna die.’”

  “You did?” Maggie laughed. “Oh, my God.”

  “So she laughed at me,” Stevie told her, “and I’m mortified, thinking, ‘Wow, how totally humiliating.’ But then—” he paused dramatically “—she kissed me. Boom. Right there. In front of everyone.” He smiled. “She actually loves me, too.”

  “That’s so great,” Maggie said.

  “So I came down here to say thank you and break a leg.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You and Matt patch it back together yet?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  Stevie rolled his eyes. “You are such a fool. He loves you, Maggie.”

  “He married me to get his inheritance,” she told him. But even as she said the words, they sounded so wrong. And Stevie was looking at her as if she were the village idiot.

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” he said.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted.

  “Yes, you do,” Stevie said. “You know him, Mags. He’s a good guy. A little flaky with the weirdo diet and the strange sleep patterns, but...you know him.”

  She’d thought she did.

  “He’s been hanging out at the law library for very unhealthy periods of time,” her brother told her. “He’s working on something that would probably take you five minutes to do. He could use your help, you know. I mean, unless you don’t care if he makes himself sick....”

  Maggie gave him a look. “That’s laying it on a little thick.”

  “Will you please just talk to him?” Stevie said. “If not for him, if not for you, then for me?”

  She just shook her head.

  “Places!” Dolores said.

  Her brother backed away, pointing to her leg and making a breaking motion with his hands, then miming a telephone, mouthing the words, “Talk to Matt.”

  And tell him what?

  Taking a deep breath, Maggie moved out into the center of the stage to the mark where she would be standing when the curtain opened. She closed her eyes and bent her head, forcing her body to relax.

  Tonight, her character, Lucy, was going to have a happy ending.

  Maggie would give anything to have one of her own.

  * * *

  THE CAST WENT wild behind the curtains after the final bow. The show was a huge success—the audience had laughed at all the jokes, and the applause for the musical numbers had
been deafening.

  Laughing, Matt picked up Maggie and swung her around and around. She was smiling up at him, her arms around his neck and, without thinking, he kissed her.

  Oh, God, he was kissing her. Her mouth opened willingly beneath his and he drank her in, wishing he could slow this moment down but too afraid even to move for fear of breaking the spell. He could feel his heart pounding.

  She pulled back, and he released her immediately. Their gazes locked, and Maggie cleared her throat.

  “Cody and Lucy always did get a little carried away,” she said.

  Cody and Lucy. Not Matt and Maggie. “Sorry,” he said.

  “You were great tonight,” she told him.

  “You were, too.”

  The rest of the cast was making so much noise around them. Someone ran past with an open bottle of champagne.

  “I don’t want your house,” Maggie said quietly.

  “Too bad,” he countered.

  “Seriously, Matt,” she said. “Stevie said you were working on something, but you don’t have to do that. We can go into court some time in the next few weeks and show them our marriage license. You’ve already won.”

  He laughed his disgust. “You call this winning?” His temper flared and he walked away from her, but then walked back. Breathe. He had to breathe, but he couldn’t get the air into his lungs. “I’m not just giving you the house,” he told her. “I’m giving you half my share of the business, too.”

  She looked shocked. “Matt—”

  “Hey, like you said,” he told her harshly, “I won. And I wouldn’t’ve been able to do it without your help. The house is your payoff for that. The half of the business is yours because—believe it or not—I really did think of you as my wife. But if you’re more comfortable with it, you can think of it as payment for the sex.”

  Her eyes flared. Ooh, that had gotten her mad. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should have just kept walking away.

  In response, Maggie actually uttered words he’d never heard her say before. At least not in this decade.

  But it wasn’t until he was in his car and driving—too fast—out of the parking lot, that he realized he wouldn’t have been able to get a rise out of her if she truly didn’t care.