Faking Forever (First Wives #4)(79)

“What did she say, Shannon?”

She set her lunch aside, a polite smile spread on her lips. “It was ugly. There was yelling and name-calling. From her side, not mine. She blamed me for your split, accused us of sleeping together before the wedding. It’s obvious she’s reading the papers.”

He set his sandwich down, his appetite faded. “I’ll call her.”

“Which is what she wants, Victor. The whole thing smacks of something young girls do when they think someone has taken their prom date away.”

He couldn’t help but wince.

Shannon reached a hand out. “I’m sorry. She isn’t that young, but she said things she knew for a fact weren’t the truth and said it with such conviction it’s like she believes her own lie. I thought you had the right to know. And since she has obviously decided she likes the pages of the gossip magazines, I’m sure she’s not done yet.”

“She has no right to slander you.”

Shannon placed a hand to her chest. “I can take care of me.”

He leaned over and kissed her briefly. “I’ll take care of it.”

And when they finished their lunch, and his staff started funneling back into the office, Victor made a nasty call of his own.



Shannon rolled over and placed her head on Victor’s bare chest. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.” They’d gotten in the habit of spending every other evening together, if only for a few hours. They’d have dinner and make love, or make love and have dinner. Sometimes food wasn’t necessary at all.

“It’s only a week.”

She sighed. “I know. I can handle it.”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “I’d take you with me, but I would never get anything done.”

“I couldn’t go, anyway. Escrow is closing, and I need to be here for the walk-through. Besides, I’m excited to clean the new place up.”

“You can hire that done, you know.”

“I like the work. Makes it more mine.”

“Scrubbing floors makes it more yours?” he asked.

She looked up at him, enjoyed the way he stroked her back when they were like this, talking after they’d taken complete advantage of each other’s naked bodies.

“I might even try my hand at some of the construction.”

He lifted her fingers to his lips, kissed them. “If I thought you were doing that out of financial need, I’d hire the crew for you.”

“It isn’t about money.”

“I know.” He smiled at her. “Do you realize that you’re the only woman I have dated that I didn’t worry about being after my bank account?”

“That’s sad.”

“True.”

“Still sad.” The irony that the reason he didn’t worry about her being after his money was because she was living on Paul’s smacked her in the ear. She wanted to bring it up but thought it was probably a conversation that needed to wait a little longer in their relationship. If they ever did start talking about forever, revealing that she and Paul had an arrangement from the start was something she would have to do.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“I’m naked and on top of you.” She rubbed her bare leg against his as if emphasizing the point. “Ask away.”

“Does Paul pay you alimony?”

Okay . . . apparently they were on the same plane of thought.

“No,” she answered honestly.

“Oh, good.”

“Why is that good?” she asked.

He squeezed her close, pushed back the hair falling into her face. “Because I don’t want another man taking care of you in any way.”

“Very bohemian of you.”

“What can I say? You bring it out in me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You do realize that the money I do have is because of the prenuptial we signed before we were married.”

“I can handle that. I wouldn’t imagine a wealthy man not taking care of an ex-wife to a certain point.”

“But a monthly check is hard to look past?”

He grinned. “Work with me here. I’m new in this world.”

She placed her hand under her chin. “What world is that?”

“The one where I’m channeling my caveman ancestors because the woman in my arms makes me think beyond myself.”

There he went, making her melt again. “You know, when a man tells you exactly what you want to hear—”

“It’s probably bullshit,” he finished for her.

She laughed, and before she stopped, he’d changed positions with her, pinning her shoulders against her mattress. “Tell me if you think this feels like bullshit.”

And when he was finished with her, any doubts she had floated out the windows with her passionate cry.



Shannon drove him to the airport because she could and he wanted her to. His return flight would drop him off in the early morning hours, so he insisted that he would call her once he was less than comatose with jet lag.

Instead of driving home, she found herself at Lori’s door with a bottle of wine.

She lifted the bottle of Chianti as she walked inside. “You’re the only drinking friend I have right now. And I need to drink.”