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“Because you loved her, and now we’re involved again? Why would I throw out the friendship I had with her and view her purely as the enemy? You didn’t do that with Mad.”

“Didn’t I? We weren’t close again for years, and never the way we had been. Honestly, when I found out you were sleeping with him again, I…”

Gus frowned. “You what?”

He stared into the fireplace as if he couldn’t look her way. “I don’t know. I’m starting to wonder how much of my flirtation with Joy was to get back at you for Mad. Gabe told me about it. He said you’d shown up in Vegas while he and Mad were partying and that you’d spent the night with Crawford. A couple of days, too. He laughed about it, said how nice it was to see you again. And how funny it was that Mad laid off the hookers because he claimed you were better in bed.”

That had been a wild weekend, and there had been more to it than even Gabe had known. “I was there because Mad asked me to come. His father had passed away. Yes, we slept together, but mostly I held him while he cried, Roman. He was my friend. He didn’t know how to show that vulnerable part of himself to you or any of the other guys. So when it got rough for him, he turned to me. It might surprise you to know that we often didn’t have sex at all. We would sit in bed and eat room service and watch movies and talk.”

“If you got along so great, why didn’t you marry him?” he bit out.

Gus turned to glare…and saw Roman’s hurt. She was starting to see through his knee-jerk responses, which made it so much easier not to take his bait. He might not even be aware he was tossing out the juicy line on purpose. Because he was emotionally dumb. Smart as a whip about everything else, but in this Roman was behind the curve, like a lot of men she’d known. Men like Mad, whom she’d always tried to help. But she’d avoided sifting through the emotions of the one man she’d truly cared about because he had the power to hurt her.

That realization made Gus terribly sad.

“I didn’t love him that way and he didn’t love me.” She didn’t tell him that Mad had offered once, that she’d turned him down because she’d been so in love with Roman she couldn’t envision herself married to anyone else.

She tried not to admit to herself that was still true.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted.

“That’s because women are infinitely more reasonable than men.” It was true in most cases. At least the majority of her friends were reasonable about the high-powered, single-minded men in their lives who rarely saw anything in life but the goal in front of them. “I need to find out if and when Joy came to see Constance.”

“But you said I was reasonable.” He raised a brow at her. By the firelight, on the sofa with one arm around the back of the couch, lightly touching her shoulders, he looked so handsome, a little devilish, as he poked at her.

Gus melted. Roman rarely teased. He was so serious, so focused on his goals and the future, on climbing new pinnacles. She hated to intentionally end his mood and drive a wedge between them but time was ticking away. She was going to have to tell him about her upcoming late-night adventure. And the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized that sneaking out of the room alone would be difficult. And reckless. It would definitely piss him off if he caught her—and he almost certainly would. The floors creaked, and Roman was a light sleeper.

“You can be very reasonable…when you want to be. I would very much like you to be.”

Those intense dark eyes of his narrowed. “Why would I need to be reasonable, Augustine? If you’re going to tell me you want your own room, I won’t be reasonable about that. Kemp is going to be coming this way in the morning. Hell, might already be on his way now. Connor is going to be on his trail, but I’m not risking you. If you don’t want to sleep with me, I’ll stay here on the couch.”

How to handle him? Ease him in. Yes, that was the best path. The one thing she didn’t want to see was that vein above his brow start to throb again. Because he took things far too seriously, he could easily be on his way to an early heart attack. Tonight could be a great adventure, something they’d look back on fondly. If she pitched it right, maybe she could get him to see it that way.

“What if I said I want to sleep with you…but I also want to visit a cemetery tonight, see who we run into?”

His forehead crinkled in pure confusion. “What?”

She downplayed her suggestion with a shrug and took a nice sip of Scotch. Not as good as what Zack would have served, but she wouldn’t complain. “I’ve heard the cemetery here is extremely romantic at night, and there’s a full moon.”

“You want to make out in the cemetery like a couple of horny teenagers? Have you ever seen a horror film? Even one?”

So no to the adventure. “I just thought it would be nice to take a stroll.”

“When would we take this stroll, Augustine?” His voice deepened as his suspicion returned.

She gave him a weak smile. “Midnight might be fun.”

“Just say it. What horrific and terrible plan have you concocted?”

“I didn’t concoct anything. I was contacted by someone who claims to have knowledge about how and why Constance Hayes died.”

Roman stood, slamming his glass on the side table. “Are you kidding me? When did he call? What did he say? Did he call himself Deep Throat?”

It was Gus’s turn to be surprised. “He didn’t call. He texted. The number was blocked. He told me to meet him in the cemetery at midnight. And yes, he called himself Deep Throat. I know that’s a cliché, but something tells me you’re not commenting on how passé his moniker is.”

Roman grabbed his cell phone with a curse and pointed her way. Accusation tightened his face. “He’s a menace, is what he is. I swear I’ll beat the shit out of him. He always goes for our women. He went after Everly, then Lara. He’s never brave enough to show his damn face to one of us, merely puts our women in danger.”

“Maybe he contacts the women because we’re the reasonable ones. You look a little crazy pants right now, babe.”

And that damn twitch was back.

“Did he say he would only give the information to you?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck him.” He hit a single button on his screen and put the phone to his ear. “Connor, Deep Throat’s back and he’s all over Gus. Yeah. The same old stale play. I need you to shave your legs, get a long, dark wig, and heels. No, make that flats. When Gus wears heels she’s almost as tall as you so flats should work. Tell Lara to do your makeup. Sometimes Gus does those smoky eyes, I think they call it.”

He’d gone off the deep end.

Gus plucked the phone from Roman’s hand. “Connor, it’s Gus.”

“Please tell me you’re going to save me from doing a one-man drag show,” Connor all but pleaded. She could practically see him standing there with his mouth hanging open.

Because Roman didn’t lose control. He was always cool and confident.

“Yes. Forget the flats and the smoky eyes,” she promised. “Deep Throat did contact me, but his invitation included a plus one. He knows I’m going to bring along Roman. Everything will be fine.”

“Everything will not be fine,” Roman insisted. “And since you get a plus one, maybe Lara can stand in for you. Or Everly.”

“There isn’t a heel tall enough to make either one of them look even slightly like me.” What had happened to him not risking his friends’ wives? She clicked his phone over to speaker. “Connor, Roman is going with me. Contrary to what Mr. Optimism here thinks, we’ll be fine. I’m not doing anything but talking to this person, and the cemetery is an easy walk to the police station.”

“It’s an easy setup for murder, you mean,” Roman ground out. “It’s a freaking cemetery, Gus. It’s possible he’s already dug our graves.”

“He’s watched way too many horror films,” she told Connor.

“Roman, calm down. Every time we’ve come up against this guy, he’s given us information we needed and

gone on his way. It was total coincidence that the crazy chick from Everly’s office tried to kill her while she met with him, and Lara didn’t realize she had a couple of Russian assassins on her tail, which she would have known if she’d been as reasonable as Gus is being right now. You win the medal for best girlfriend because you actually told Roman instead of sneaking behind his back like the others.”

“I took Everly with me.” Lara’s protest came over the line.

“Still haven’t forgiven either of you for that,” Gabe complained.

Roman shot her a pointed look.

“Hey, Gus, it’s Everly. Can you try to surreptitiously take a picture of this guy because Lara and I are pretty sure our Deep Throats were actually two different men.”

Roman gaped. “She is not taking a damn picture.”

Gus would try. Maybe if she hid her phone in her jacket pocket and managed to maneuver it at exactly the right angle.

“Absolutely not,” Roman barked, just in case they hadn’t all heard his first edict.

“Fine,” she replied, mostly because unless she used her flash, the image wouldn’t look like anything except a black blob in the dark. “But when we come back to London, we’ll all sit down and compare notes. I’ll try to remember as much as I can.”

“Roman, are you okay with this?” Connor asked. “I don’t think I can pass as Gus, but I might be able to hop on that helo and pass as you. I know from experience this guy is serious. He won’t talk to anyone but her. For once, he’s giving a little by letting you come along. I’m surprised. Maybe he learned his lesson from forcing Everly and Lara to come alone.”

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