One to Save (One to Hold 6)

“How come you never got married? What’s wrong with these Chicago girls, anyway?”

He grins and sits forward, leaning his forearms on his desk. “You know marriage isn’t my thing. You’re the only girl I might’ve considered settling down with.”

“Oh, you might’ve.”

“

It did take me a while to get over you.” His eyes twinkle, and I can’t resist.

“No, it didn’t. You were dating Jules Ashton the next week.”

“Was I?” His brow lines, and I can’t help remembering the attractive playboy Marcus has always been. It seems not much has changed. “Regardless, when we were together, I was all yours.”

“We had a lot of fun,” I say with a nod. “But I did have to go to college.”

“Whose idea was that again?”

“College? Or educating women in general?”

He laughs loudly. “God, you always made me laugh. I miss that.”

I give his enormous office another glance. “Say what you will. I know you want a little future lawyer running around this place. Pulling all your important papers off your desk and drooling on your furniture.”

“Yes. You know me so well.”

“I do know you well. That’s why I’m here, Marcus.” Our eyes meet, and I’m ready to get to the reason for my visit. “I need you. It’s a matter of life and death, and you’re the best lawyer I know.”

He’s immediately serious. “Are you in trouble?”

“Not me.” Scooting forward in the chair, I glance over my shoulder. “What do we need to do for this to be confidential? Attorney-client privilege and all?”

“You agree to hire me as your attorney.”

“I’d like to hire you as Derek’s attorney.”

His jaw moves, and I watch as he thinks, as his glance moves to my left hand. “You’re not married?”

“We were planning our wedding next month. I’d love it if you could be there.”

A brief smile, and he’s back to business. “I’m not going to write down anything you say. Whatever you tell me could be used by the prosecution against us.”

Fear clenches my stomach. “This is so serious, Marc.”

“What happened?”

Closing my eyes, I go all the way back, knowing what this is going to do to my old friend to hear the truth. “After Sloan and I were married a few years, his parents died, and we had to move back to Baltimore.”

He nods, watching me closely.

“Our marriage grew more and more distant. Months would pass and I’d never see him. We stopped having...” I took a deep breath, swallowing my embarrassment. “We stopped sleeping together.”

Silence. I forge on.

“I thought maybe it was his age? I didn’t know what to think until I found that first receipt.” I pause, cringing inside. “Then I found the next one and the next one.” My chin drops, and I tell him everything. “He had escorts all over the country, apartments where some of them stayed. I was so humiliated.”

I didn’t dare glance up at Marc’s face. If I saw anything in his eyes—rage, vengeance—I’d never finish.

“I moved to the other side of his mansion. I wouldn’t see him. I insisted on marriage counseling, but really, I wanted a divorce. I wanted out.” Taking a deep breath, I go for it. “Until the night he decided he was tired of my bullshit. He wanted to sleep with his wife. I fought him... I hated him. But I wasn’t strong enough. He beat me and almost raped me.”