"I applaud your grand gesture, but, Devon, surely you don't plan to throw away your happiness and spend the rest of your life with a jerk like him?"
"I have to stay married to him at least until he gets out of prison."
"He used you."
"I know that."
"He's a felon."
"I know that, too."
"You know he's guilty?" he asked, his jaw dropping open.
She gave a terse bob of her head. "I lied to you before. I'm reasonably certain he did it. At first I believed he was innocent. Later, after he was incarcerated, I began to have my doubts."
"Why?"
"He refused to consummate our marriage. Oh, he told me it was for my benefit. That way, he said, if I wanted to get out of the marriage, I could more easily. I thought he was being self-sacrificing. He might still be."
Lucky was shaking his head. "He was thinking of himself. He wanted to be able to have the marriage annulled when you were no longer useful. I'll bet that even now, he's trying to figure a way to turn the scandal about us to his advantage."
She hung her head. "The afternoon I met you, I learned that he had been declining his conjugal visits, something that I hadn't even known was available until I heard another prisoner's wife talking about it. I confronted Greg. We had a big row. I couldn't understand why he would reject his marital rights."
"Unless he was guilty not only of the crime, but gross manipulation."
"Yes."
It was a tough admission for her to make, but it only frustrated Lucky further. He plowed his hand through his hair. "Why haven't you started divorce—or annulment—proceedings?"
"Because I had used Greg just as much as he had used me. I used his story to help promote my column. That's when the Devon Haines byline really began to mean something to the newspaper. So I, as much as Greg, profited from our marriage."
"Devon, you've got incredible talent. Your column would have succeeded anyway. Why are you staying married?"
"Because I take my responsibilities seriously. I can't just wash my hands of a marriage because it's no longer useful, because it's inconvenient."
He shot down that argument with a curt, "Bullshit. You just don't want to admit that you were duped."
"That's not true!"
He knew by her instantaneous and adamant rebuttal that his guess had been right. "You always have to be in control, calling the shots. It's impossible for you to admit that twice your heart has overruled your head. Greg's sob story got to you, and you can't live with that. Rather than admitting to a mistake in judgment, you'll stubbornly stay married to him just to prove you were right."
"As long as there's the slightest chance that he's innocent, I can't desert him while he's in prison."
Lucky's oaths were vicious. "You don't believe he's innocent any more than I do."
"You said my heart had overruled my head twice."
He glanced at the bed. "You've fought it every step of the way, but you love me and I damn well know it. We connected the first time we laid eyes on each other. What you can't own up to is that you're as vulnerable between the thighs—"
"I won't listen to your lewd—"
"You don't want to be a weak nonentity like your mother was, totally dependent on her husband for everything. Okay. Fine. Guess what, Devon? I don't want to wipe my feet on you. I don't want a silent, submissive partner, in or out of bed."
"I have a husband."
"He's not the issue. He never has been, or so I found out this morning. You're just using him as an escape hatch. This is between you and me."
He gripped her shoulders. "You want a career. Terrific. Have one. I'm all for it. But have me, too. We can have each other and make both our careers worthwhile.