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ead and sighed almost pityingly. Almost.
“I’m not a man to tell tales,” he finally said. “Just tell Chase to be careful. I’d hate to see a friend hurt. ”
Richard Roberts turned on his heel and shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks and moved away, his head down, as though he felt sorry for Chase.
The lying, corrupt son of a bitch. That bastard and his wife had made Jaci’s life a living hell for five years, and not even once, not once, had she asked anyone for help. Not once had she complained or attempted to defend herself. She had held her silence and tried to deflect their viciousness as much as possible.
Alone.
He pushed the fingers of one hand through his hair and blew out a hard, control-fortifying breath. He was not going to follow Congressman Roberts and beat his brains into a bloody pulp. Cam would not tell that viperous woman Roberts had married what a lousy excuse for a human she was.
And he would not, by God, destroy the hard work Jaci had put into keeping her reputation intact. But she would belong to him. To him, as well as to Chase. She had run for seven years, and now, by God, the running was over.
He had no idea what had actually happened between the congressman, his wife, and Jaci. Even Courtney Sinclair, Jaci’s friend, had no clue what had caused the Robertses to target her. Jaci simply hadn’t talked. The Robertses had, though.
He remembered that about her. Jaci wasn’t into gossip or telling tales. Tell her something, it stayed with her. And she never had been the sort of female to run to others for protection. Whatever the Robertses had done to her, it had caused her to retreat inside herself, to restrain the fiery nature that he had always been drawn to.
He glanced toward the doorway Roberts had used to reenter the house. It was one of the side doors. The congressman was known for retreating to Ian’s private study and his better booze, rather than joining the Sinclair parties for long.
Ian allowed it, though Cam knew he didn’t particularly like it.
Cam thought of all the ways he could hurt the other man without leaving a mark. How easily he could warn him that Jaci was off-limits. That her name would never pass his lips again.
He took a step toward the doorway, when Ian Sinclair stepped out on the patio. The other man watched him suspiciously, his dark green eyes glowed with knowledge as he slid a cigar from inside his jacket and smiled back at Cam.
“These parties suck,” Ian said as Cam retreated, leaned against the wall once again, and cocked his brow mockingly.
“I wouldn’t have hurt him too bad,” he murmured with a tight smile.
Ian snorted at that before extending an extra cigar toward Cam. Cam took it as Ian lit up his own. Seconds later, the sweet scent of imported tobacco filled the air, and Ian leaned against the stone balustrade of the patio.
“A woman can mess up a man’s mind sometimes, Cam. ” He sighed. “Make him rethink things. ”
“Don’t start on me, Ian. ”
Ian had been full of wise little comments since he learned Cam had a weakness, and that weakness was a woman. For some reason, the other man had seemed surprised that Cam could care either way.
“Ms. Wright left the party with Chase awhile ago,” Ian stated. “Did you know about that?”
“I knew. ” Cam shrugged. Chase knew the limits, he had always known them, where Jaci was concerned.
Ian watched him for another long moment before staring out at the garden. “Sometimes a man can accept the need to share his woman’s pleasure. Sharing her heart is another thing. They can be separate. ”
“Let’s cut the shit,” he told his employer coolly. “I don’t tell you how to conduct your marriage, or your business. Refrain from giving me advice here, if you don’t mind. ”
He didn’t need it. Jaci belonged to him and Chase would know it. But his fist curled at his side and the need to leave the party, to rush to her hotel, was nearly eating him alive.
“Agreed. ” Ian sighed. “But stay away from Roberts, Cam, until you have proof of whatever you think he may have done. I can handle violence if there’s reason for it. Otherwise, stay back. ”
“I’m well back,” Cam mocked.
Cam didn’t need proof, no more than he needed proof of Jaci’s innocence or her guilt. He understood the world. Sometimes a woman stepped into things she shouldn’t—that was always possible. But Roberts had threatened her, and that wasn’t acceptable.
He stared into the night once again, a frown brewing at his eyes. The investigation they had done on her had been too damned sketchy for seven years of a woman’s life.
There were rumors, here and there, of lovers, but none of those rumors had panned out. For seven years, Jaci had worked her ass off at her career, but she hadn’t put much into making friends or developing relationships.
Whatever had happened with Roberts had happened five years ago. After that, even less effort had gone into filling her life with anything other than work.
