When he set his glass down, untouched, on the table, she jumped at the sound.
“I know this isn’t easy to talk about, baby, but we have to deal with this. I can’t help you get past it if I don’t know what happened,” he insisted.
She looked into his eyes, drawing strength from the gentle encouragement in them.
“That reporter…what he said about sacrificing for the greater good…the reference to the bishop…I had that discussion with Mwana. Nick, there was no one else there at the time, just the two of us.”
His eyes widened and he finally stopped in front of her. “You think this reporter was another of Mwana’s men?”
“How else could he be quoting our conversation almost verbatim?”
Nick reached for his mobile and pressed one button. “Spiros, have the reporters left?”
His mouth tightened at the answer. “Get me the name of every journalist who attended the press conference. And get the security footage of the conference room ready for Jameson to hand over to the police ASAP.” He hung up and dialed Jameson, relayed the information, then ended the call.
“I should’ve said something then,” she said, despair curling within her, “but I wasn’t sure if my mind was playing tricks on me.”
But now she knew it wasn’t.
Time to tell the whole truth.
…
Nick shuddered out a breath as he clawed a hand through his hair. “It’s fine, sweetheart, but I just need a minute.” He closed his eyes, cursed, fighting for control for a long moment. When he opened them, he touched her cheek. “Okay. Talk to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t tell you the gory details of my last conversation with Mwana because I didn’t want you to get like this.”
“Unfortunately, with every revelation, I just grow hungrier with the need to put this bastard down,” he said, almost to himself. “To think he dared to try to mess with us, here, after what he did on Althea—” The ringing phone interrupted him.
He dropped his hand and cursed the damn phone.
Listening to the solicitous tones of the head chef asking if they were ready to order their afternoon meal, he suppressed ironic laughter. His life was being turned upside down every which way he looked, and he was being asked what he wanted to eat.
Looking over to where his wife stood rubbing her arms, he asked, “Are you ready for lunch?”
An expression crossed her face reflecting the turmoil he felt, but she nodded, “If you are. You can choose something for me.”
He reeled off her favorites to the chef and hung up. “The meal will be up in three quarters of an hour. Enough time to tell me about that last conversation?”
She took a deep breath, then relayed her last conversation with Charles Mwana in a rush of speech. He forced his clenched fists to relax.
“That’s it?”
She nodded. “Nick, just sit for a minute, please? You could also tell me you’re not mad at me,” she suggested with a smile once he was sitting across from her.
Nick’s heart thudded at the sight of her sexy dimples. He gathered her in his arms, her light flowery scent wrapping around his senses. He lowered his head and kissed her lush lips.
“I could get mad at you for endangering yourself, but you weren’t harmed, thank God. I need to remember that and be glad you’re safe and by my side. And frankly, I’m tired of talking. Right now I need to have you naked in my arms. It feels like a lifetime since I made love to you.” He needed to hold her close, to affirm life after having yet another confirmation rammed home of how close he’d come to losing her.
“We made love this morning, right before breakfast.”
“As I said, a lifetime.”
She returned his kiss, her slim body melting into his like it was made for him. Which it was…
“What about lunch?”
He groaned and glanced at his watch. “We have forty minutes. I guess I’ll have to settle for a quickie.”