The Wife Who Knew Too Much(63)

“Neither did I.”

“What’s under the car cover in the garage at Windswept?”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s a large vehicle hidden under a locked car cover. I think it’s the Suburban that tried to run me off the road.”

For a split second, something flickered behind his eyes, but then it was gone.

“I have no idea,” he said. “I haven’t been in that garage in months.”

“If it’s there, then it was probably Nina who had me followed, who tried to have me killed. Right?”

He shrugged. “Sure, but this is all speculation.”

“And if she was doing that, then she knew about us. And she would have confronted you. She would’ve divorced you and left you with nothing.”

“We’re back to me being a murderer again.”

He held my gaze, a mournful expression in his eyes.

“I don’t know how to convince you, Tabby, except to put my heart and soul into promising you that I didn’t do it. Yes, I wanted to be with you, more than anything. Even with that motive, I’m not capable of ending someone’s life. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell her I was leaving. You could say I’m a coward. But I’m not a killer. I need to know you believe that, in your heart.”

He rested his hand on my chest.

“I have the feeling there are some rough days ahead. I need to know we’re in this together.”

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears. I wanted so badly to believe him.

“I can’t stand it when we argue. I hate it even more when you doubt me. All I want is for things to feel right between us again.”

“That’s what I want, too,” I said.

He kissed me, then led me up the curving staircase. The dressing room off the bedroom was paneled in fine-grained wood, with benches for the suitcases, built-in closets, and a wall of mirrors. He turned me around to face my image and stood behind me, running his hands slowly over my body as our eyes met in the glass. Kissing my neck, he slipped the cover-up from my shoulders. It pooled at my feet. I kicked it away. The bathing suit was from a French brand, a black one-piece with a plunging halter neckline, sexy and obscenely expensive. He untied the neck, taking my breasts in his hands. They were fuller than they’d ever been.

“So perfect and ripe,” he said, then worked the bathing suit down over my hips.

I stood naked, flesh goose-pimpled, nipples hard in the chill of the air-conditioning, looking at us in the mirror. It was a miracle that I was with him. I watched him strip off his clothes. My eyes lingered on his perfect body, and I wavered for a moment. He’d been unfaithful to Nina. Could I trust him to be faithful to me? Then he embraced me from behind and I thought, Worry about that later. This life might not last. Enjoy it.

He led me to the bed, lowering me down onto it with such gentleness, opening my legs with his hands. He got down on his knees.

I noticed the mirror over the bed, and my body tensed.

“Relax, baby. It’s okay. Let me take care of you.”

Looking at us in the overhead mirror, on this lavish bed in this amazing suite, I didn’t feel like myself. This life was too unreal, like some perfect dream. I couldn’t believe Connor was here with me—the man I’d wanted so badly for so long, now with more money than God. If something’s too good to be true, then is it true? Or is it just lies? I had to close my eyes and force the dark thoughts from my mind to enjoy the sex.

When we were done, he held me, and I sighed like the weight of the world was on me.

“What is it?” he said.

“I wish time would just stop. I wish we could stay here forever.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” he said. “Especially if things go south back home. If we wanted to, it’s possible we could make that happen. Levitt Global has an office here. I could transfer. We could get a penthouse in a high-rise, with a fabulous view. The UAE doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the U.S. I checked. What do you say we never go back?”

I forced a laugh, but I was chilled to the bone.

“That’s a joke, right?”

He’d looked in my eyes and sworn he wasn’t guilty, and I’d believed him. Basically. But why would an innocent person research an extradition treaty?

“Yes, it’s a joke,” he said.

Connor smiled at me, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. I was in over my head. No question about that. For the first time it occurred to me that he was, too.





29





That night, we went to dinner at the hotel restaurant. The ma?tre d’ fawned over Connor and called me Madame Ford. The wall of the restaurant was a floor-to-ceiling aquarium. Schools of brightly colored fish darted around playfully right beside our table as we ate. We’d gotten to the dessert course, and I was eating my first-ever soufflé—hazelnut, light as air—when Steve Kovacs called.

As Connor listened, I saw his expression change. By the time he hung up, he was ashen.

“What is it?” I asked, holding my breath.

He glanced around before answering, making sure nobody was close enough to overhear.

“Nina’s doctor was arrested.”

I stifled a gasp. “For her murder?”