I drummed my fingertips on the desk and weighed his words. He stared back, challenging me in a way few people had the balls to do. His accusations made sense. I stood, walked to the door, and opened it. “We’re done here.” Despite my cool tone, my guts churned.
To his credit, he changed track, his features impassive. “If you’re convinced she’s not involved, I’ll respect your opinion.” He smoothed his trousers down his legs with his palms as he straightened. “Where do you want me to begin?”
“Lavender is the obvious choice.”
“I’ll work backward from her and see if I can find any connections with your staff.”
“Great.”
At the threshold, he paused and met my gaze. “Your wife to watch herself around Ms. McElroy. We don’t know her place in all this. And I don’t think Mrs. Menshikov appreciates the seriousness of your predicament.”
“Let me worry about Rourke and Everly.” My words were confident, but inside, I was shaken to the core. Was I so blinded by my love for her that I couldn’t see the truth? My father’s faith in his friends had led to the murders of my entire immediate family. I had no intention of following in his footsteps.
As I returned to the master suite, snippets of long-forgotten information resurfaced in my head. What if Rourke had been planted by McElroy? I had no way to verify the truth except to ask her. A question like that would rock our shaky marriage to its foundation. When I opened the bedroom door, Rourke’s head jerked up, and a flush climbed into her face. She was sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed with her phone in her lap, fingers tapping relentlessly as she texted. A silver serving tray held a bowl of potato chips, a container of chocolate mousse, and an aerosol can of whipped cream. I sat beside her and tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her ear.
“You’d better not be working.” I strained to get a look at the screen then felt immediate shame for doubting her.
“No. Of course not.” She closed the text message screen, but not before Everly’s name flashed in the message box. The color heightened in her cheeks.
“You look guilty. Are you disobeying my orders?” I waited for her to confess, my unease growing.
“The only thing I’m guilty of is thinking dirty thoughts about you.” Her laughter sounded unnatural. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on the notch of my collarbone. The muscles in my groin tightened.
“Is that so?” I angled my chin to allow her better access. Although her kisses sizzled across my skin, my stomach churned. Spitz’s accusations had made me paranoid.
“Yep.” She shifted to straddle my lap, but I couldn’t staunch the doubts in my head. “I’ve got plans for you, mister.”
“Hold that thought.” I eased her to the mattress and headed toward the bathroom. I needed a minute to pull myself together. With hands braced on the sink, I stared at my reflection. What was wrong with me? I looked the same on the outside but felt completely different inside. A few hours ago, I’d been confident—cocky, even—about our future. Spitz’s accusations had rocked me to the core.
I splashed water on my face and headed back to my wife. As I reached for a hand towel, a scrap of paper caught my eye. It was on the tile floor beneath Rourke’s bathrobe, like it had fallen from her pocket. I scooped it up and unfolded it. Prince Heinrich’s name and number were written on a message form from the office. A dull ache thudded behind my eyes. Why in God’s name would Rourke have Prince Heinrich’s personal cell phone number?
“If you don’t get out here, I’m going to start without you,” Rourke called from the other side of the door.
Was she a spy? The thought of her duplicity hurt more than my healing gunshot wound. I was Roman Menshikov. No one defied me. Ever. I crumpled the paper in my fist and stormed from the room.
When I caught sight of her, the breath whooshed from my lungs. She was lying on her stomach in the center of the bed, legs waving in the air behind her, completely nude. In the soft light of the nightstand lamps, her skin shimmered like satin. I swallowed hard around the tightness in my throat, willing my temper into submission. This wasn’t the time to be irrational. She rolled onto her back and stretched, her movements slow and languid, and blinked up at me with round doe eyes. “Good Lord,” I muttered to myself.
A mischievous grin bowed her mouth. “You took forever. Come and join me.” She patted the empty mattress at her side. “I’m so lonely.” The movement jiggled her breasts.
I licked my lips at the sight of her nipples, tight and pink, pointing toward the ceiling.
My second brain, the one inside my pants, warred for control. He couldn’t wait to sink himself inside her. I yanked my shirt over my head and placed a knee on the bed, intending to fuck the truth out of her. She inched backward on the mattress, mirroring my movements.
I wrapped a hand around her throat, pushing her into a position of submission. “Spread your legs for me.” She hesitated, but not from fear. I’d seen that look in her eyes before—a combination of rebellion and excitement. “Do it,” I commanded.
“So bossy.” She lifted her chin a notch.
I shoved a knee between her thighs and opened them wide. A startled squeak escaped her lips. The flush of arousal crept up her chest, over her breasts, and to her collarbone. She loved playing the victim as much as I loved playing the villain. Her compliance hardened my dick to the point of pain. I needed to be inside her. Immediately.
The tip of her tongue swept over her bottom lip. “Come on, Roman. What are you waiting for? Fuck me.”
“Sit tight, pretty girl. I’m about to deliver on that request.” Nothing excited me more than a dirty mouth on a sweet-looking female. Correction—nothing excited me more than Rourke’s dirty mouth. She rarely cursed in front of me, but when she did, I felt an immediate response in my groin. Shifting my weight to an elbow and retaining my grip on her throat, I slammed into her. No foreplay. No bullshit. The force of my movements shoved her up the bed.
“Ahhhhh.” Her moan fired up the animal inside me. I drove through her slickness, taking my pleasure from her, demanding her submission.
“Do you love me?” I asked.
“Yes.” She lifted her knees and wrapped her legs around my waist.
I kept pounding, like I could somehow force a confession out of her. “And you would never betray me?”
Her eyes, which had closed, flew open. I tightened my fingers on the column of her neck. “No. Never.” Every stroke of my cock made her grunt.
As I gazed down on her loveliness, a rush of tenderness swept through me. The thing was, for once in my life, I had no desire to manipulate this person. I wanted her to be with me because she loved me. No other reason. “Why?” Our bodies slapped together. The harsh smack of flesh on flesh filled the quiet room. “Why do you love me?”
“Because—because you’re—the one.” She lifted her arms and braced them against the headboard to keep the top of her head from crashing into it. “The only one, Roman.”
I slipped a hand between us and found her clit with my middle finger. She hissed at the contact. Moving swiftly, relentlessly, I stroked her hard and fast. “Look at me when you come.”
The walls of her pussy fluttered then clenched hard around me. Her shoulders came off the bed with the force of her orgasm, but she kept her gaze locked with mine. “Yes. Oh, God. Oh, yes.” Her pupils dilated, overtaking the blue of her irises.
Pride swelled inside me, knowing I could bring her to climax so quickly. “Don’t move. I want to come on your tits.” Seeing her excitement, feeling her tight walls around my cock, brought me to the edge of sanity. The burn of release raced down my legs. She felt too damn good. It was a wonder I’d held my orgasm this long. I pumped into her twice then pulled out. My cock, swollen and covered in her slickness, bobbed on her chest. I threw my head back and roared at the satisfaction as I spurted on her breasts, marking her as mine.
Slowly, the rush of fulfillment ebbed away and left me with nothing but shame. “Jesus. Fuck.” I sa
t back on my knees and shoved both hands through my hair.
“What? What’s wrong?” She lifted to her elbows, her eyes wide.
“I’m sorry.” Red fingerprints blotched the white skin of her neck. My fingerprints. I was an animal—a beast. I’d never lost control with her before, not like this. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Roman, it’s okay.” She climbed to her knees and took my face between her palms. I tried to avoid her eyes. “It was—” A blush crept into her cheeks. “No one has ever— I mean, this is the first time— I had no idea that sort of thing would turn me on so much.”
“But your neck.” I couldn’t look at the evidence of my disgrace. Instead, I tore away from her grasp and stared out the window.
“Stop.” She gently turned my face back to her and placed a fingertip on my lips. “You didn’t hurt me at all. I loved every minute of it.”
“I’m so fucked up. I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”
“You can always trust me, Roman.” The edge of her teeth worried the plumpness of her bottom lip. “What brought this on?”
I wrapped one of the sheets around her shoulders. She leaned into me, settling into the curve of my arm. Drawing in a deep breath, I steeled myself to say the ugly words. “Whose phone number is that?”
Confusion flickered across her face. “What are you talking about?”
I retrieved the piece of paper from the nightstand where I’d dropped it and placed it in the palm of her hand.
She unfolded it slowly. “Oh, yes. Lorissa said he kept calling like it was some kind of emergency. I took the message to give to you.”
I crumpled the note and tossed the paper into the trash bin.
She shifted away from me. “Roman, what did Spitz say to you? It was about me, wasn’t it? He doesn’t trust me.”
“I pay him to be suspicious of everyone, especially now.” My guilt continued to swell. What kind of douchebag had I become?
“Including your wife.” With a heavy sigh, she moved to the fireplace. The long sheet trailed along the floor behind her. “I get why you’re paranoid. Your enemies have left a trail of blood at your feet. You have every right to worry, but not with me. I’m the one person you can trust, Roman. I swear on our unborn child that I’ll never betray you.”
The darkness I’d been harboring for a lifetime broke loose inside me. “Oh, God.” I buried my head in my hands. Unshed tears burned my throat and eyes. Rourke’s gentle touch smoothed over my hair.
“It’s alright,” she murmured as she pressed a kiss to my temple.
Taking her hands in mine, I kissed her knuckles. “Spitz made a very convincing argument.” I sought out her gaze, expecting to see anger in her blue eyes, but found them brimming with compassion.
She let out a deep sigh, rose from the bed, and grabbed her phone. “I texted Everly while you were in the bathroom. I wanted to hear the truth from her lips. She might know something that can help us.”
“After I told you to stay away from her?” I lifted an eyebrow, amused by her disobedience. “You didn’t even wait five minutes.”
“I waited thirty. You were with Spitz forever.” She opened her text messages, scrolled through the names to Everly’s, and handed the phone to me. “Here. You can read them yourself. Any of them. Full disclosure.”
I curled my fingers around the phone and closed my eyes. In my heart, I believed Rourke. She was the only person I could count on. If I wanted our marriage to work, I needed to take a leap of faith. I handed the phone back to her without looking at it. “No. Your word is good enough for me.”
“I’ve known Everly my entire life. She’d never do anything to hurt me. If she lied about Lavender, I’m sure she has a good reason. I won’t pass judgment on her until I hear her side of the story.”
“You’ve known Mr. McElroy your entire life, as well, and I can assure you he’s a threat to both of our lives.” I tightened my arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She leaned into me. The scent of her hair tickled my nose. The warmth of her body melted through the sheet and into my side. “In my experience, the people closest to us are often the most lethal. You need to be cautious. Her father is more dangerous than any of us suspected.”
“Thinking back, this explains a lot,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “When I went to his house for dinner, he was very insistent that I should divorce you. I thought it was a little strange at the time but figured he was just being overprotective.”
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of divorce. I took her hand in mine and lifted it to my lips. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
“No.” She smiled, bringing light into my world once again. “Of course not.”
I eased her back onto the bed and stretched alongside her. With my hand on her belly, I rubbed a circle, encompassing our baby. “Thank goodness. This little guy––or girl––needs me.”
“Hey.” She propped her head on an elbow and turned on her side to face me. “I just thought of something. If he’s really behind all this trouble, maybe I could do a little undercover work.”
“No.” I lowered the sheet to bare her breasts and placed a kiss on the tip of each one. “You’re too valuable. I won’t take chances with your safety.”
“I’m serious.” She dug her fingers into my hair, guiding my mouth to her breast.
I melted into the warmth of her body. Soon, her breasts and belly would get bigger, and I couldn’t wait. “You’re the most precious thing in my life, and I won’t take any more risks where you’re concerned. Understand?”
“I guess.” With warm hands, she lifted my face to hers, and dotted soft kisses on my forehead and cheeks. “Promise you won’t be one of those overbearing, overprotective husbands.”
“Can’t do it.” I shifted my weight above her and teased her legs open with my knee. “It’s not in my nature. You’ll just have to accept me the way I am.”
Her contented sigh gusted against my temple. “Where’s the compromise in that, Mr. Menshikov?”
“I’ll try. That’s the best I can do. Deal?”
“It’s all I could ever ask.” She raised her hips. The blue of her eyes met mine, filled with heat and desire and the answer to all my prayers.
In one gentle push, I slid inside her. We made love again, slowly and gently. Her sweet moans brought the protective warrior out from the depths of my soul. With her at my side, I could conquer the world.
Chapter 18
Rourke
The next day, I met Everly for lunch. We took turns picking locations; this time was her choice. She settled on an upscale, formal Italian restaurant in Chelsea. I preferred more casual pubs and bistros, but today, the dark, cool atmosphere suited my mood. My stomach twisted with nerves as I followed the maître d’ to our table.
Everly glanced up from her phone and greeted me with a smile. She looked amazing in a clingy jersey knit dress. Sunlight from the windows next to our table caught the gold strands in her red hair.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late,” I said. “Traffic was insane.”
“I just got here myself.” She stood and gave me a light hug. The scent of Prada perfume lingered in her wake. I stiffened at her touch.
One of our four waiters pulled out my chair. He snapped open the linen napkin and draped it across my lap. The quiet hum of conversation floated around the dining room. Through the arched windows, the waters of the Hudson River gleamed in the afternoon sun.
“The chicken piccata is amazing here,” she said, perusing the menu.
My stomach growled then twisted into a tight knot. On the car ride to the restaurant, I’d played this scenario through a dozen times, trying to formulate a way to approach her about Mr. McElroy, and had come up with nothing but feelings of sadness and pain. We’d vowed to end the secrets between us. So how could she sit calmly across from me, knowing he’d betrayed his family, possessing knowledge that might clear Roman’s name, and not say anything? The
Everly of my past would never have been a party to that kind of betrayal. I bit my cheek to keep an angry burst of words from spewing forth.
“Would you like champagne or wine?” asked the sommelier. “I can recommend a delightful house cabernet or a vintage pinot, if you’re interested.”
“Yes, please,” Everly said. “I’ll have a glass of the cabernet to start, and whatever you recommend to go with my entree.”
“None for me, thank you.” I fiddled with my napkin, unable to meet her gaze. Confronting her was going to be more difficult than I’d thought, especially since we’d been on such shaky ground the past few weeks. If she continued to harbor her secrets, she’d force me to walk away from our friendship. Tears pricked behind my eyelids. Without her, I’d have no one, no one but Roman. I’d already lost too many important people in my life. I couldn’t bear another one.
“Aren’t you going to miss wine?” she asked.
I shook my head and stared at the menu.
She ran a hand through the long, glossy locks of her hair, smoothing them over her shoulder. “We won’t be able to meet for drinks anymore either. We’ll have to find something else to do. Maybe we could go for a walk or shop for baby things.” She pressed her delicate, pale hands together. “Oh my gosh. Wait until Christian finds out. He’ll be in baby heaven. You have to let him help you with the nursery.”
“You’re freaking me out.” I had so many tasks to complete before the baby arrived. The enormity overwhelmed me. I pushed down the flood of panic. “I don’t know anything about children, do you?” My voice sounded rusty. I cleared my throat. Having no siblings, nieces, or nephews had robbed me of the experience.
“No, but you can take classes and hire people who do.”
“My children won’t be raised by nannies.” Roman and I hadn’t discussed anything but generalities. We needed to nail down specifics, like his views on discipline, religion, and education.
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