“What did you tell Anthony?” He set down his coffee cup carefully.
“It’s my turn to ask the questions, remember?” she reminded him gently. Her eyes fell away, and she stared into her cup as if searching for answers of her own. “But in the interest of peace...I told him what we planned for me to say, that divorcing my husband wasn’t as simple as I’d expected. That you and I needed time to sort things out. He was understanding.”
“Then he isn’t as big a threat as I thought.” He couldn’t wrap his brain around the notion of ever being okay with the prospect of Jayne and some other guy hooking up. His hand twitched around the cup.
“Conrad, not everyone is all alpha, all the time.”
He looked up fast, surprised at her word choice then chuckled.
“What did I say? And remember, you promised to answer my questions.”
At least he could tell her this and wondered now why he never had before. “Back in high school, my friends, we called ourselves the Alpha Brotherhood.”
“You’re all still so close.” She frowned. “Do they all work for...”
“Please don’t ask.”
“You said I could ask anything,” she pressed stubbornly.
He searched for what he could say and still stay honest. “If something were to happen to me and you needed anything at all, you could call them. They can get in touch with Salvatore. Is that answer enough for you?”
She stared at him for so long he thought she might push for more, and truly there was more he could say but old instincts died hard after playing his life close to the vest.
Nodding, she leaned back in her leather seat, crossing her arms. “Thank you. Get back to the Alpha Brotherhood story.”
“There were two kinds of guys at the academy, the military sort who wanted to be there to jump-start a career in uniform and a bunch of screwed-up rule breakers who needed to learn discipline.”
Did she know that when she’d leaned back her legs stretched out in a sexy length that made him ache? He wanted to reach down and stroke her calf, so close to touching him. The sight of her in those jeans and leather boots sent another shot of adrenaline to his already overrevved body.
He knocked back another swallow of hot coffee to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. “Some of us in that second half realized the wisdom of channeling those rebellious tendencies if we wanted to stay out of jail. After we graduated from college, Salvatore offered us a legal outlet, a way to make amends and still color outside the lines—legally. Honorably.”
“That’s important to you, honor.” She crossed her legs at the ankles, bringing her booted foot even closer to brushing him. “You’ve been so emphatic about never lying even when you hold back the truth.”
He looked up sharply, realizing how much he’d revealed while ogling her legs like some horny teenager. And he realized she was playing him. Just like he’d played her in the past, using sexual attraction to steer their conversations.
It didn’t feel good being maneuvered that way.
Remorse took his temperature down a notch. He sat up straighter, elbows on the table as he cradled his coffee. “My father was a crooked bastard, Jayne. It makes me sick the way the rest of the world all thought he was this great philanthropist. He made a crap-ton of money and gave it away to charities. But he made it cheating the same kinds of people he was pretending to help.”
Her hand fell to rest on his. “I understand what it’s like to lose faith in your father. It hurts, so much.”
How strange that he was holding hands with his wife and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that. He’d touched her, stroked her, made love to her countless times, but he couldn’t recall holding her hand.
“I guess we do have that in common. For a long time, I bought into my old man’s hype. I thought he was some kind of god.”
“You’ve never told me how your mother felt about your father’s crimes?”
“She’s his accountant.” He shrugged, thinking of all the times he got an attaboy from his parents for making the grade. It never mattered how, as long as he won. “Colonel Salvatore was the first person to ever hold my feet to the fire about anything. Yes, I have my own code of honor now, Jayne. I have to be able to look myself in the mirror, and this job is the only way I know how to make that happen.”
“How weird is it that we’ve been married for seven years and there are still so many things about you I don’t know.” Her blue eyes held him as tangibly as her hand held his beside the plate of croissants and éclairs.
“That’s my fault.” He squeezed.
“Damn straight it is.” She squeezed back.
The jet engine droned in the silence between them, recycled air whooshing down.
He flipped her hand in his and stroked her lifeline with his thumb. “What happens now?”
“What do you mean?” Her voice came out breathy, her chest rising and falling faster.
Although he could see that even in her anger she still wanted him, he was now beginning to understand that desire alone wouldn’t cut it any longer.
“In the elevator we were a zipper away from making love again.”
Her hand went still in his, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and frustration. “And you want to pick up where we left off?”
“How will your dog sitter feel about that?”
She sighed. “Are you still jealous even after I told you I’m not dating him?”
“Are you planning on seeing him after you leave?” He had to know, even if the answer skewered him.
What had the other guy given her that he couldn’t? He’d lavished her with every single thing a woman could want, and it hadn’t been enough for Jayne.
“Honestly,” she said, “I thought I might when I flew to Monte Carlo, but now, I’m not sure anymore.”
He started to reach for her but she stopped him cold with a tight shake of her head.
“Damn it, Jayne—”
“I’m not done.” She squeezed his hand hard. “Don’t take what I said as some sign to start tearing our clothes off. I am certain that I want a normal life with a husband who will be there for me. I want the happily ever after with kids and a real family sitting down to dinner together, even if it’s hamburgers on a rickety picnic table at a simple hometown park. Maybe that sounds boring to you, but I just can’t pretend to fit into this jet-set lifestyle of yours where we share a bed and nothing else. Does that make sense?”
He closed his eyes, only to be blindsided by the image of her sitting on a porch swing with some other lucky bastard while their kids played in the yard. “The thought of you with someone else is chewing me up inside.”
“You don’t have the right to ask anymore,” she said gently. “You know that, don’t you? We’ve been separated for three years.”
“Tell that to my chewed-up gut.”
She tugged her hand free. “You’ve already moved on. Why shouldn’t I?”
He looked up sharply. “Says who?”
“Every tabloid in the stands.”
“Tabloids. Really?” He laughed. Hard. Not that it made him feel any better. “That’s where you’re getting your news from? I thought you graduated from college magna cum laude.”
Finally he’d shocked her quiet, silencing those damn probing questions.
But not for long.
Jayne’s hand clenched around her discarded scarf. “You’re saying it’s not true? That you haven’t been with other women since we split up?”
He leaned across the table until his mouth was barely an inch away from hers. He could feel her breath on his skin and he knew she felt his. Her pupils widened in awareness, sensual anticipation. And still, he held back. He wouldn’t kiss her now, not this way, when he was still so angry his vision clouded.
Not to mention his judgment.
He looked her in the eyes and simply said, “I am a married man. I take that commitment very seriously.”
She was his wife. The only woman he’d ever loved. He should have the answers locked and loaded on how to keep her happy. He was a damn Wall Street genius, entrepreneur billionaire and Interpol agent, for God’s sake.
Yet right now, he didn’t have a clue how to make things right with Jayne, and he didn’t know if he ever would.
Seven
The gates swung wide to Conrad’s home in Africa, and Jayne had to admit, he’d shocked the hell out of her twice in less than twenty-four hours.
She’d expected a grand mansion, behind massive walls with sleek security systems that made Batman’s cave look like something from last generation’s game system. This place was...
Understated.
And the quiet beauty of it took her breath away.
She leaned forward in the seat, as the Land Cruiser took the uphill dirt road. A ranch-style house perched on a natural plateau overlooking a river. She’d spent four years poring over renovations and perfect pieces of furniture for their different residences, perhaps hoping she could somehow create an ideal marriage if she could only put together an ideal home. She would guess the place was built from authentic African walnut. Everything about the house looked real, nothing prefab or touristy about it.