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“Probably,” she said, trying not to feel nervous. “At the last minute, some clients insisted I meet them at a bar. I had water,” she said. “There was a fire, so the whole place was evacuated. I couldn’t even get my car because it was too close to the fire.”
“Hmm,” he said. “Why didn’t you call George?”
“I didn’t want to bother him,” she said. “So I called a cab. I’ll get my car tomorrow.”
“What was the name of this place you went tonight?”
“The Mark?” she said.
His eyes widened and he swore. “Who in hell wanted you to go to that dump?”
“They’d heard it was authentic Philly. I suggested something classier, but—”
“Don’t go there again,” he said. “It’s a wonder a gang fight didn’t break out. If you must go, then call George or me. Preferably me.” He paused. “Promise.”
She bit her lip. “Promise.”
He raked his hand through his hair. “I really want you to think about quitting. I’ll take care of all your expenses, your debts.”
Tempting, but she knew she’d better wait. He could change his mind and she’d not only have her sisters’ college expenses and Tami’s medical bills, she’d also be out of a job. “I’m not ready to quit yet, but thanks for the offer,” she said and he kissed her. The strength of his body and personality quickly slid past her defenses. Had there ever been a time when she could let go and rely on someone else? Count on someone else? In every possible way?
“You feel so good,” she said, sliding her hands over his chest and up to his shoulders. She sank against him and sighed against his mouth.
She felt him slide his fingers through her hair and tilt her head to give him better access. He kissed her deeply as if he were making his mark on her, possessing her. “I don’t want you going to dangerous places.”
“I’ve lived in Philly for a while. I’m not a complete novice,” she said as he slid his mouth over her throat.
“But you haven’t been married to Leo Grant. That changes things,” he said.
She pulled back slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s possible that someone would want to take advantage of you because you’re my wife,” he said bluntly. “I won’t let that happen. I refuse to be taken advantage of.”
She felt a chill run through her at his cold-as-ice tone. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I’m saying I’ve never had a wife before. Never had anyone at risk. I’ve had my security detail on call for you, but in the future, I’ll make sure they’re always close by.”
She frowned. “Close by?”
“Don’t worry. You won’t notice them. They’ll just be available anytime you need them.”
Calista didn’t like the idea of being watched every minute. “I can’t believe I would draw that much attention. I don’t need that kind of supervision.”
“It’s not supervision,” he said. “It’s security. You’re my wife. It’s my job to take care of you.”
She stared into his eyes, feeling a passion as deep as her bones. It struck her in her heart. “I’m not used to someone watching over me.”
“Get used to it,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers. “You’re mine now.”
He made love to her, rendering her speechless and nearly mindless. In the back of her mind, though, she remembered that she needed to get answers from him. After the glow of cl**ax, she curled against him, still breathless. “I don’t know your birthday,” she whispered.
He swore. “Why do you need to know?”
“So I can bake you a birthday cake,” she said.
He chuckled. “November 3,” he said.
“What year?” she asked.
“I’m thirty-two. Why are you asking me this now?” he asked, pulling her n**ed body against his hard n**ed one.
“Because I want to know more,” she said. “How old were you when you were in the accident?”
He stilled. “Why do you ask?”
Her heart hammered at his still, emotionless tone. “Because that was a big event in your life. As your wife, it’s important for me to know the good and the bad things in your past.”
He took a deep breath. “I was eight years old. I don’t remember anything before or during the accident,” he said, breathing heavily in the darkness of the room. “I hate it that I can’t remember.”
Her heart twisted at his words. “Maybe it’s best that you don’t,” she said. “Maybe it’s too painful.”
“I would rather have a painful memory than no memory,” he said and rolled onto his side, facing away from her.
Deep pain emanated from him. She felt it in her heart, in her pores, and her stomach twisted at the power of it. Confusion twisted through her. How could she feel such empathy for a man who’d had a part in her family’s destruction? How could she feel such a connection to him?
She fought it for several moments, but she couldn’t stop her arm from folding over his chest and sliding closer against him, her br**sts pressed against his back. She felt his heavy sigh. Did she have that much of an effect on him? Did she bring him a little peace? Calista marveled at the thought, at the possibility of such power. It couldn’t be true, she thought. It couldn’t.
The following morning, George met him outside the condo building. “Good morning. How is Mrs. Grant?” George asked.“Fine, this morning,” he said and climbed into the back seat of his Town Car.
“I can’t imagine what clients would want to meet her at the place she went last night,” George said, his disapproval evident as he drove down the one-way street.
“I have no reason to believe she wasn’t meeting clients. She said they’d heard The Mark was an authentic Philly landmark,” Leo said.
“For gangs,” George said.
“She didn’t seem to enjoy her time at The Mark,” Leo said.
George paused a long moment. “True,” he finally conceded. “What are you going to do about it?”
“About what?” Leo asked.
“About her security,” George said.
“I’m going to assign a guard to her, but I’m going to tell him to stay on the down low,” he said. “I don’t want her to feel infringed upon because of her marriage to me,” he said.
George gave a rough chuckle. “She’ll have to be the dumbest girl in the world not to know that her life would turn upside down because she’d married you.”
“She may know that, but I also think she’s fighting it,” he said.
Silence followed. “Could be,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”
“This is a marriage,” Leo said. “It takes time to trust. She will trust me,” he said. “And soon.”
“But will you trust her?” George asked. “Can you trust her?”
“You know I don’t trust anyone completely,” Leo said. “I’ve given her your cell number if she ever needs it.”
“Okay,” George said. “But what if I find out she’s doing something you wouldn’t like?” he asked.
“Like what?” Leo asked.
“I don’t know. Seeing an old boyfriend? Or a new one?”
“She won’t,” he said, because although he might not have Calista’s trust and complete adoration, he knew he had her passion.
Calista’s cell phone began ringing on Monday morning.“Congratulations,” said a distantly familiar voice.
Calista didn’t recognize the number. “Excuse me?”
“It’s Jennifer,” she said. “Your roommate from college. I know we haven’t kept in touch as well as we should, but I thought you would call me if you got married.”
Calista frowned in confusion. “How did you know I got married?”
“It’s in the paper today—a little sidebar in the society section about how Philadelphia’s most eligible bachelor has been taken off the market. Aren’t you the lucky one? How did you pull this off?” Jennifer asked.
“We met at a charity event,” she said, fumbling as she tried to remember how she’d described her relationship to her cousin and sisters. “It was just one of those things where we instantly clicked. I wonder why it just made the paper. We’ve been married for weeks.”
“Did you make an announcement?”
“No,” she said and realized that probably wasn’t very bridelike. For that matter, she hadn’t even told her coworkers. “I’ve been so busy…” She hesitated. “With Leo,” she said with emphasis.
“Well, we must get together for lunch. I want to hear all about this. You were so studious in college. Never took time for dating when you and I roomed together. And now you’re married to Leo Grant. When can we get together?” Jennifer demanded.
“I don’t know,” Calista said, reluctant to face Jen’s questions. “I’ll have to look at my calendar. My work schedule—”
“Work,” Jen echoed. “You’re not still working, are you? If I were in your shoes, I would have dumped my job before the ink dried on my marriage license.”
A beep interrupted her, signaling another incoming call. “Oops, I’m sorry. I have another call. I need to go.”
“Call me back,” Jen said.
“Hello?” Calista said, this time recognizing the caller as a member from her elite women’s society club.
“You little sneak,” Rachel said. “Why didn’t you bring your husband to our event last week?”
Calista swallowed a sigh. “We’ve both been terribly busy,” she said.
“But the two of you went to other events together,” Rachel complained.
