Chapter 11

BPOV

His response was instantaneous and unmistakable. His lips molded themselves to mine and the blaze of heat that flared between us told me everything that I needed to know. He tasted faintly of beer. His kiss was hungry, insistent, arousing. An instant memory of his hands, hot as the slid up under my dress threatened to make me forget my purpose.

I wanted him, and he wanted me too. No doubt at all remained. Shaken but satisfied at the result of my impromptu research, I lifted my mouth from his before I completely lost my head, breaking off the kiss even as he pulled me across the console and onto his lap.

"You're not gay." My voice was faintly breathless, okay a lot breathless but also accusing. His hand still gripped my waist, mine resting on his shoulders. I was half lying, half sitting, with my back cradled by his arms. Our faces just inches apart. I could feel the warmth of his breath feathering across my lips. Unfortunately it was too dark to read his expression. But as I imagined it – he was no doubt looking guilty as hell.

"You – are – not – gay." I said it again with emphasis as to drive home the point. That seemed to make an impression. He took a deep breath and straightened, pulling me up with him and then lifting me back over the console into my own seat. Once there, I turned to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"I never said I was." His voice was cool as a glass of lemonade. And to my annoyance, as he spoke, he restarted the car as though nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened. The lights came on, bouncing off the wall in front of us to reflect his face. He did not look guilty, he looked – he looked as calm as if we were discussing the vagaries of the weather.

"You did too." Once again searching my mind for his exact words. "When I asked you before you said… you said…."

"I asked you if it mattered." He pulled out of the parking lot and turned down the alley. The beams illuminated graffiti-adorned brick walls, a dumpster with a partially open lid, piles of litter. He glanced at me. "If I remember correctly, you said it didn't."

"Well now, it does."

"So I'm not gay." He slid me another one of those calm looks before edging out into the still heavy traffic. "Put on your seat belt."

My lips compressed and I mentally counted to ten while putting on my seatbelt. "Are you a cross-dresser?" He gave a grunt that might have been laughter.

"Only when I have to be. As far as I'm concerned, panty hose could have been invented by the Spanish inquisition. How women wear those things is beyond me. Bras are a bitch too, but I was really starting to get into the shoes." His lips twitched.

"You'll notice I'm not laughing." In fact I was starting to feel like a fool for ever believing he was gay in the first place. How could I have been so blind?

"Let me make sure I understand this time: You're straight, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Pretty much?"

"Well, actually about 100 percent."

"You lied to me." I said as he looked in my direction.

"I didn't lie. You made assumptions, and I just didn't correct them."

"Oh, that makes it all better."

"Look, if you'd known from the beginning I was straight, would you have let me help you?"

"Are you actually attempting to claim that you lied to me for my own good?"

"That's pretty much it in a nutshell." He sounded almost please at being presented with such a tidy summing up.

"Yeah right, so you want to explain the whole Angie thing?"

"I was working. Undercover, you might say. The guy I was tailing – you met him in the parking lot last night – is into drag queens. Ergo Angie." He shrugged, looking unrepentant, and his eyes twinkled at me infuriatingly.

"What about Josephine? Is she even yours?"

"Until three weeks ago, Josephine belonged to my grandmother. Then grandma moved into a retirement home and I inherited a dog, compete with collar, leash, and a weekly appointment with the groomer."

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes." A smile touched his lips as he glanced at me.

"Cross my heart."

"Well that certainly clenches it for me." I said with a snort.

"I don't know why you're mad. You liked Angie."

'Not to make out with!" As soon as I said it, I could have kicked myself. The dignified thing to have done would have been to ignore those breath-stealing kisses completely.

"Ah. Good point." He gave me a look that made me hot all over again until I remembered he had deliberate deceived me. He continued in a semi-apologetic tone. "At the time, making out with you didn't seem to be an option."

"It's not an option now, either." I felt like a fool. "What happened back there was a one time thing that was entirely dictated by unfortunate circumstances. So don't start thinking your about to get lucky, because your not."

"I swear, if you hadn't just now put the idea in my head, such a thought never would have crossed my mind." He shook his head virtuously. When I gave him the yeah right look he grinned.

"But in the interests of full discloser, I think I ought to mention that we have a strict company policy against. 'getting lucky' with clients. Of course, being that I'm the boss, I guess I could make an exception if you asked me real nice."

"Not a chance. I'll give you credit though: pretending to be Angie as a come-on technique is original, if nothing else. But just so you know, from a woman's point of view, being lied to pretty much sucks."

"Just for the record, I think I should point out here that you're the one who came on to me. You kissed me first back there, not the other way around, remember? And if I'd been trying to get you into bed, you'd have known it a whole hell of a lot sooner." A beat went by before he spoke again.

"Besides, I never actually lied."

"Okay, that's it. You lied and you know it. And if you want my opinion, deceiving me like that was a pretty rotten thing to do."

"Darlin', you're losing sight of the big picture here. Who I choose to sleep with doesn't matter. What matters is that here in the down and dirty divorce wars I'm on your side."

"What matters is you lied."

A swaying eighteen-wheeler whizzing around us so fast it made the car shake distracted our attention before the conversation could deteriorate further. We were at the Summerville exit and the Blazer was easing off the expressway into the dark, deserted hush of the town. A glance at the dashboard clock told me that it was 1:43am and sent my thoughts careening back to the larger problem: Royce.

Tonight I had plenty of time, a good hour and a half before my cheating husband snuck back in the house. Should I pack and leave before he even got home? Or wait with folded arms like a wife in a comic strip until he got in and let him have it with both barrels? Or should I bite my tongue, bide my time, and see a lawyer before I walked out? The idea of even having to set eyes on Royce again, much less spend a few more nights under the same roof with him, made me sick to my stomach and almost made the decision for me.

But I'd been cool so far and, I thought, had made all the right moves. I didn't want to lose the advantage now. Royce would be ruthless about finances, ruthless about everything. I'd seen him in operation on the golf course, the tennis court, and in business deals when things got sticky and always, he played to win. He would play to win in our divorce too.

Glancing at the man beside me I put thoughts of Royce to the back of my head. One problem at a time. Edward had deliberately deceived me over the Angie thing, but he'd also been a strong shoulder for me to lean on when I'd needed one. He made me laugh and made me hot at a time I hadn't thought either was possible, and for that I was grateful.

The idea that I wouldn't be seeing him again caused a pang, much as I hated to admit it even to myself. Still, his job was done. Thanks to him, tonight I had seen what Royce was up to with my very own eyes. As for anything else – such as a quick hop in the sack maybe, just because I wanted to more than I had wanted anything in forever – well, the cold hard truth was that I needed another man in my life like I needed a bad case of poison ivy.

Especially another lying man.

"Okay, you're right, I guess it doesn't really matter that you lied." My voice had lost the angry edge to it. "You did what you were hired to do, and I recognize that. Seeing as how this whole thing got resolved so quickly, I'll understand if you want to impose some kind of minimum charge for your time." Our gazes met and Edward glanced at me with a frown. "Add the cost of fixing your car, or course. If you'll let me know how much it all is, I'll see that you get your money right away."

"Whoa, wait a minute. Not so fast."

"What?"

"I don't think this whole thing is resolved. A rich, prominent man like Royce doesn't cheat on his wife by going to someplace like Sweetwater's and hooking up with the girls there. He was way, way too visible, almost like he wanted to be seen. A man cheating on his wife hides out in a hotel or an out-of the way apartment, or meets his honey on a business trip. Trust me, I know. I investigate this kind of thing for a living."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying something doesn't make sense. I don't know what Royce was doing at Sweetwater's but I don't think he was hooking up with anyone." A sudden memory made my eyes widen.

"He didn't take any Viagra tonight. There were still six pills mixed in with this vitamins. I counted when we got home from the club, and he never came upstairs again." A half-smile quirked up one of the corners of Edward's mouth. "Well, there you go. Proof positive."

"Do you think it's possible that Royce isn't cheating?" Funny, the idea didn't bring any upsurge of happiness with it. In my heart I knew our marriage was long over. It had taken a combination of Royce's behavior tonight and my sizzling reaction to Edward's kiss to make me realize that.

"Possible? Anything's possible. But I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he's cheating; we just haven't caught him yet. He had another reason for going to Sweetwater's tonight. I just haven't figured out what it is." He sounded thoughtful.

"Why don't you let me keep looking into this for a few more days?"

If I did, I could keep seeing you for a few more days. The thought caught me unaware but instead I responded shaking my head.

"I don't think so, that would require me to be civil to Royce and acting as everything between us is hunky-dory for a few more days, and I just don't think I can do that. Besides, you lied to me."

"You want me to apologize for Angie? All right, I apologize. Next time I run across a beautiful damsel in distress while I'm dressed like one myself, I'll jump her bones immediately just so there's no mistake."

I glared at him, then the sheer absurdity of the image he'd painted made me smile, albeit reluctantly. Seeing me smile caused him to smile too.

"That's better." His smile was coaxing. "Don't you want to know who the lucky recipient of all that Viagra is?"

Ugh, did I want to know? The possibilities were endless, now that I considered them. Was it one of the women who worked for him? Heidi, his administrative assistant, came immediately to mind. She was young, pretty, and appeared to think Royce hung the moon. Or maybe it was one of our friends. Or a neighbor. Or anyone. It could be anyone at all. Just thinking about it made me sick. Unless I learned the truth, I would never be able to look at any of them in quite the same way. I would always wonder.

"How long do you think it would take?" My smile gone.

"Probably no more than a week." Could I bear living with this burden – and Royce – for a week or more? I'd been so in love with him and now I wanted nothing more than to walk away and never have to see him again – but of course nothing in life was ever that easy.

"I could use that time to find a lawyer." I chewed on my lip. It was important to think of Jessica, and Renee as well as my own financial security. Knowing Royce, he would do his best to see that they all ended up back where we started. He would love that.

"Good idea." Edward pulled up in front of the house, doused the lights and engine, and then looked up at me. "You realize that once Royce finds out you're filing for divorce he's going to play to win. You need to make sure your lawyer is someone you can trust."

"All the lawyers I know are Royce's friends."

Edward grimaced. "That's a problem. Want me to check around, see if I can find someone who's up to taking on Royce?"

"Would you?"

"With pleasure." With that, the last of my hostility towards Edward over the discovery that Angie was a fraud wafted away. Edward was still a shoulder to lean on, and I was glad, really really glad, that he wasn't walking out of my life just yet. Still, if he was going to be staying on for a while, I wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily.

I shot him a severe look which he didn't see. He was starting out through the windshield, apparently lost in thought.

"You did your best to deliberately deceive me. Admit it." The look he gave me was almost startled.

"I did?"

"About Angie."

"Oh." A beat went by. "Maybe I was a little bit deceptive." I raised my eyebrows at him and he looked down smiling and shaking his head.

"Fine. You want to hear me say it? I lied."

"That's better. Don't do it again." He grinned at me and I realized at some point after he parked the car, he had picked up my hand. Or maybe I picked up his, I couldn't be sure really.

But we were joined now, my fingers laced with his long capable ones. I felt the strength of his hands clasping mine, felt the heat radiating from his palms to mine, and my pulse rate shoot to double time. Which felt nice, but probably wasn't a good thing. My life was chock-full of man trouble already.

"I'm not going to sleep with you, you know." I said, it was best to lay it on the line – for myself as well as for him – even if I did feel a little prickle of regret at turning my back on what I was pretty sure would be really phenomenal sex. By saying it aloud, I fixed the ban firmly in my own mind.

His lips compressed. His hand tightened on mine. Our gazes met. His thoughts were impossible to read in the darkness, but the hard grip of his fingers said a lot.

"It's usually considered good manners to wait until you're asked."

"I just want to make sure we have everything clear."

"Clear as crystal." He released my hand, but I could feel the lingering warmth of his grip even as I pulled my hand back to the neutral territory of my lap.

"Okay. Good. I'm going in now." I opened the door and the interior light came on. A glance over my shoulder told me the he was watching me get out. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth was in a firm line. His expression was hard to decipher, but it certainly couldn't have been described as warm and friendly. Or anything close.

"I'll be in touch. You've got my number if you need me." he said. His voice was definitely businesslike. My warning had set the right, necessary tone. To my own annoyance, I found myself regretting that I had ever opened my mouth on the subject as I headed inside.

Go back

I listened to the little voice in my head and made a face at myself in the bathroom mirror.

"I'd love to." I answered aloud. "But sleeping with him is a really dumb idea." It occurred to me that when people started talking back to the little voices that they heard, that's when they knew they were really in trouble. So I wasn't going to listen to the little voice anymore, much less talk to it. Even if I really, really wanted to do what it suggested. My inner self obviously had no idea how complicated things could get if I gave into its urging.

The thing with Edward tonight was the closest I had to come to having an orgasm in a year. More than that really when I thought about it. Many years, was more like it. Royce's lovemaking had been perfunctory for some time before he'd finally given up the ghost altogether. Call me difficult but I wasn't able to get off in the five minutes tops it took Royce from the first peck on the lips until he rolled over and went to sleep.

Yet one more reason to get rid of him. Royce was lousy in bed. At least, I thought he was. I didn't really have much to compare him with – which brought my thoughts back full circle to Edward.

I glared at the tiny line between my brows as ferociously as if it were the source of my wayward thoughts, and scooped Mudd out of a jar, slapping some over the wrinkle before slathering it lavishly over the rest of my just washed face.

Go back outside.

Nope, I was not going to let the fact that I was staring divorce in the face get me down, I told myself determinedly. I was not going to start hearing voices. I was not going to have a nervous breakdown. I was not going to sleep with Edward. I was not going to crack a baseball bat over Royce's head. And I was definitely not going to gain a hundred pounds or so.

Get thee behind me, chocolate, I thought glancing over my shoulder in some regret as the last of the Hershey's kisses I kept in my lingerie chest for emergencies swirled down the toilet, where just minutes ago I'd gathered the will power to dump them.

Then, in a hasty mental aside just in case some listening spirit took that too seriously, I amended that to 'Get thee gone, chocolate' I certainly didn't want the rejected calories ending up on my already substantial enough behind.

In any case, I was gong to get my stress release in a less destructive way from now on. And no, not from an Edward induced big o. Although I was really starting to regret not having gone for it while I had the chance, I comforted myself with the knowledge that I had done the right thing.

Aromatherapy might not be as much fun, but it came with a lot fewer drawbacks. The most important of which was, a man wasn't involved. The smell of the chamomile bath salts was soothing, just as the printing on the packet had promised. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with the aroma as steam filled the bathroom. As soon as the bath was ready, I would slide down into the hot water, immerse myself in the calming scent, and press the button that would activate the Jacuzzi. Bliss. Or at least, as close to bliss as I could get under the circumstances.

Go outside now.

Take that, stress, I thought pretending the little voice was not there as I inhaled again with great determination. The steam was sweet smelling but – unsuccessful. So far, anyway. I resolutely refused even to think about checking out my lingerie chest just to make sure that no Hershey's kisses had been left behind. Instead, I returned my attention to the task at hand.

Taking off my clothes I put on one of the slinky nightgowns that I now detested and finished with the last of the Mudd. Slathering it down the middle of my nose like peanut butter on bread. Rinsing my fingers, I looked at myself in the mirror again. With hair swept up into a ponytail high on the top of my head and the mask covering every bit of my face now except for white circles around my mouth and eyes. Was it Cindy Crawford who'd said looking good was the best revenge?

No matter. It was now my mantra. Every time I even started to think of Royce and his extracurricular activities I was going to do something positive for myself. Like treat my skin to a mask. Or scrub my teeth with super-whitening paste. Or wax my legs.

Or take a really hot relaxing bath foaming with calming herbs and go to bed. Where I was going to get right to sleep and not, not, not dream of men. Not Royce the jerk or Edward the hunk.

With another glance in the mirror I could see the mask was already starting to harden. It was crisping around the edges, and the cracks were starting to appear in my cheeks. A few more minutes and I could rinse it off, slather on moisturizer, wax my legs and get into the tub.

I turned off the water as it was near the brim of the tub, rescued the floating jar of leg wax that had been warming in the water and inhaled deeply and turned back towards the sink

I took a single step and stopped dead. A man was staring at me through the bathroom mirror.