FullDisclosure (24 page)

Evan sighed, obviously disappointed. “Well, be that as it may, it doesn’t change the fact that you are entitled to some compensation.”

She cringed. “Is a little financial security really worth this kind of emotional stress?”

“How about your self-respect, Sadie?” Jake came up behind her, his strong arms wrapping around her and easing the sting of his words. “Isn’t it time you took a stand? Took charge of your life?” He released her and turned her to face him. “I saw how you dealt with those biddies down at the mall. And I know how you survived your time in prison. You do have it in you. You have a strength of spirit and will that’s rare and special.” He touched her cheek. “But you have to believe you do. You have to believe in yourself.”

Looking into his eyes, and feeling the warmth of Evan’s hand slip into hers, she thought maybe she could after all. If these two smart, sexy, incredibly talented men believed in her maybe she could too. She swallowed the lump of indecision. “You’re right. I’ll do it.”

She called Karey back and five minutes later had booked an appointment to see her lawyer the following morning. Karey liked to reserve her Sundays for her family. Sadie had to respect that.

“Great.” Evan began gathering up the dishes. “And we’ll go with you. If you want us to, of course.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Suddenly Jake exclaimed. “Shit. Did you say it’s Sunday today?”

Sadie arched a brow. “Yeah. At least since yesterday was Saturday, that’d be my best guess. Why?”

“I have to pick up some wine. It’s a special order and if I don’t get it today I won’t get it at all.”

“No problem,” said Evan. “That means I’ll get Sadie all to myself for a few hours.” He hugged her close, flaunting his triumph in Jake’s face.

“Well, I don’t know about
that
,” protested Jake, his tone taking on a faint note of whine.

“You had her to yourself for days. I think it’s my turn, don’t you? That’s the deal.”

Before Jake could spit out the retort she could almost see forming on his lips, it was Evan’s phone that began to buzz insistently on the counter. Evan frowned at it and Sadie could tell he was at war with himself. But it wasn’t just business that might be calling anymore. He had a daughter in his life now too. A daughter who was far away with a strange young man.

He picked up the phone.

The moment he turned away, Jake gave her a conspiratorial wink and proceeded to steal her away into the bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed and she landed in a flurry of sheets and giggles. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to piss Evan off.” He crawled across the bed, straddling her and drawing his tongue along her belly as he moved. “Do you think it’ll work?”

Her breath was determined to elude her. “I…well…” Her robe had been tugged open and his mouth had found a breast. Her body was already flooded with the heat of arousal when Evan said from the doorway, “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Never.” He slipped his hand between her thighs. “Just making sure she doesn’t forget me while I’m gone.”

Sadie purred at his touch.

“Actually…” Evan’s tone had them both pausing. They stopped what they were doing and looked his way. His sigh was heavy and filled with worry. “Actually I was wondering if you’d mind if Sadie came along with you this afternoon?”

“Sure.” But rather than lighting up Jake’s face was touched with concern. “Why?”

“That was Rachel. She’s coming home early. And…she has some big news, apparently.”

“Did she sound happy?”

Evan nodded. “Yes. So it’s obviously good news, but…” Another heavy sigh. “I need to tell her about…us. I need to do it now. Before I lose my nerve.”

“And you’d like to be alone with her,” added Sadie.

He shrugged, shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Sadie leapt off the bed and went to him. “This is a big step for you, and we want to support you.” She turned to Jake. “Right?”

“Absolutely.” Jake snapped his fingers. “Actually, the store where I’m picking up the wine is just a few blocks from the restaurant where you used to work, Sadie!”

She frowned. “So? I have no desire to go back there.”

“But isn’t your apartment nearby? Wouldn’t you like to pick up a few things? I thought you said you had some sentimental items that you didn’t want to give up.”

She nodded. “That’s right. This would be as good a time as any. You could drop me off on your way to the store. That would give me time to go through my things. Then pick me up when you’re done.”

“Perfect,” said Jake. To Evan he added, “Sound good to you?”

“You guys are the best.”

Jake sighed, gave Sadie a sad look. “If only it hadn’t taken him this long to figure that out.”

Cyril opened his eyes and gazed at the gently sleeping form of his wife. He had gotten home late the night before from his sex-fest with Taylor and his favorite whore he’d ordered up from his usual service, but when he’d gotten into bed his wife had seemed strangely tempting. It had been her smell. The scent of her soap and shampoo mingled with the aromas of the children’s had been so fresh and
pure
—so foreign to him and to the environment he’d just left, that he had felt strangely drawn to her. But she was asleep, and considering how long he’d been gone he highly doubted she would be receptive to his advance. He’d tried once to assert his dominance over her, and it had not been well received. In fact, she’d told him that if he ever tried something like that again she’d call the police, press charges, and he’d never see his children again.

Not that he was overly enamored of the urchins—they were still far too young to be of interest to him or worthy of his attention—but there was something to be said for keeping the good family man image for business, and he knew his wife well enough to know she wasn’t bluffing.

So now, looking at her in the light of day, he considered the prospect of waking her up and gently seducing her—but couldn’t work up the same enthusiasm of the night before. The fresh scent of soap and baby powder had evaporated, leaving behind stale morning breath and the musk of overnight perspiration.

Late-morning sunshine spilled in through the bright south-facing windows and cast her features in golden relief. She had been beautiful once. He did have a few vivid memories of seeing her across a room and thinking how beautiful she was and how well he’d chosen. Watching her walk down the aisle on their wedding day and how all eyes had looked upon them with envy. But those days had passed. She had put on a few pounds since the kids, and developed a few bags and wrinkles. Even considering that, he knew she had looked after herself quite well, and held up against the standards of her age she was probably still considered quite attractive. But now, in the light of day, with sanity having returned to his previously sex-addled mind, try as he might he couldn’t see it.

They hadn’t had sex in months, and neither of them seemed to care. He needed more than gentle fucking in the missionary position anyway. And he highly suspected that she had taken a lover or two along the way as well. Not that it mattered. Their marriage had never been about sex. It had more in common with the political allegiances of medieval Europe than it did with the icons and ideals of North American romance.

Such notions were for the naïve and the hormonally challenged.

But still, such images brought errant thoughts to mind. He rolled over and faced the window, thinking about Sadie and for a moment considered how beautiful she once had been—and how much she had resembled his mother. And acknowledging what his father must have seen in her all those years ago. His father had been looking for something he’d lost, but had just gone about it all wrong.

At least his father had had something—or someone—worth caring about once. Philip had idolized Cyril’s mother, and yet Cyril had never truly understood it. The woman had been little more than a maternal figurehead to Cyril—beautiful but cold and distant like an arctic sky. But perhaps that was exactly what Philip had seen in her. Someone beautiful, regal and unattainable. Someone who barely tolerated the presence of the man who, in name anyway, shared her bed. And who had spared him the use of her body solely for the purpose of cultivating an heir—once. After giving birth she’d handed Cyril over to nannies and tutors, with little more than a nod in his direction at birthdays and graduations.

Cyril had wanted more from her. He would never admit it to anyone else, but he had wanted so much more. Even now thinking of her—

Angry, Cyril stopped himself. Thoughts of his mother only ever led to rage and depression. He was beginning to wallow and he wouldn’t have it. He could feel no empathy for his father, and definitely not for Sadie. He hated that woman. Hated her for who she was and what she could do to him. She was a threat to him and everything he held dear. The last threat. And that threat needed to be eliminated. Now.

Energized, he rolled out of bed, slipped on his robe and grabbed his phone as he headed from the room in search of coffee. He loaded the coffeemaker with the usual blend of Costa Rican and arabica beans and punched the power button. It was bubbling and hissing vigorously as he walked out onto the patio. The sun was already high in the sky, the azure water of the pool glittering with the light of a thousand diamonds. It was a beautiful morning, but he felt incapable of enjoying it.

He considered waiting for the fortification that would come with his first cup of coffee, but decided he needed to get this done. He punched Rufus’ number, swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of speaking to the beady-eyed reptilian subhuman life form. There were many duties in life that were distasteful, but necessary. He told himself this was just another in a long line of them.

The phone rang far too long for Cyril’s taste before Rufus finally deigned to pick it up.

“Yeah?” His voice was sleepy and dull, not that it ever sounded particularly alert or sharp.

“What’s the status of your project?”

There was a silence in which Cyril could easily picture Rufus blinking stupidly and trying to discern what Cyril was talking about.

“Sadie?” Cyril prompted, impatient.

“Oh. Yeah.” Heavy yawn. “Still no sign. I camped out at her apartment since last night. I figure she’s gotta come back here sooner or later, and it’s a heck of a lot more comfortable than sitting in a car.”

Cyril was about to yell at him but Rufus continued, “There was a phone call last night, by the way. That lawyer called and left a message for Sadie to call her back. I didn’t like the sounds of it.”

Cyril’s instinct to be angry at being disobeyed evaporated. This new information was useful—and very disturbing. Besides, he had to admit it was a decent enough plan. Sadie would show up eventually. And hopefully she’d show up alone.

“But, the thing is,” added Rufus, “I gotta go back on the beat tomorrow. If she doesn’t show up today—”

“You call in sick. Who the fuck pays you more anyway?”

A grunt was the only response he was granted.

“So what do I do when she shows up? Waste her right away?”

“No.” That was definitely the eventual goal, but considering that phone call from the lawyer, perhaps it would be a good idea to try to get some information from her first. “No. When she shows up, hold her and get her out of there. If she shows up with anybody get rid of them, but I want her alive. Trash the apartment. Make it look like an interrupted robbery. Then call me and I’ll tell you where to meet me so I can talk to her.”

“Okay. Got it.”

Satisfied, Cyril hung up and headed back into the kitchen for his coffee. He had barely taken his first sip when his phone rang in his pocket. Instantly furious, thinking Rufus had already come up with some stupid screwball question, he pulled out the phone—but hesitated. It wasn’t Rufus.

Eyebrows arched in surprise, he answered, “Taylor?”

He had left Taylor and the prostitute to recover at his hotel room. He’d told her that he wouldn’t need her today, and had even told her to turn off her phone. He figured that way he wouldn’t be tempted to call her, as he really needed to take a day to spend some time at home and get some work done.

But she had been so tasty that night. So beautifully vulnerable and pathetic. She’d begged him to stop several times, but in such a way that it had merely fueled his desire to use her—harder. Even the prostitute had looked worried a few times, which was saying something for the boundaries that he had been pushing that night. It had exhilarated him. Made him feel like a God, to have these two women bound to him, serving him, powerless to stand up to him despite their obvious desire to do so. The fact that they were motivated by greed rather than by devotion to him was irrelevant. He held the purse strings. The difference was inconsequential.

He’d left them both bruised and aching. His lashes had raised welts and even drawn a tiny bit of blood to the surface. He’d had the prostitute lick the wounds on Taylor’s back while he fucked her in the ass. And then he’d watched the two of them explore each other. That sight had been strangely moving, sensual, erotic. Nothing like the violent play that had preceded it, and perhaps it was those images left floating in his mind that had spurred his strange attraction to his wife when he’d come home.