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“This is a waste of time,” Marcel hisses.
“So, it seems,” his lawyer’s response is flat and unemotional.
They gather their papers and briefcases. Marcel’s expression is stony and frigid, as he stands, buttons his suit jacket and leaves the table, without another word or glance in my direction.
I know I’ve got him by the short hairs, but I came here with a very specific goal, and I won’t let him leave without giving it to me.
“You have until tomorrow afternoon to leave my house. Consider this your heads up,” I call to him.
“Fine,” he snaps, and then the door slams so hard the windows rattle.
Remi and I walk to his car in tense, stoic silence. I know he’s waiting for us to be alone to unleash on me. As soon as I climb inside the cool, dark interior of his car, I let loose the breath I’ve been holding for the last few days, in a long sigh of relief.
“I’m exhausted,” I groan, letting my head loll to rest on the seat.
“That went better than I hoped.” Remi’s voice is tight with unspoken annoyance.
I cast him a sidelong glance. “Then why do you sound like we lost.”
“I don’t like surprises.” His voice is quiet but seething with anger.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to talk to you about it because I knew you’d press me for more.”
“Yes, I would.” He leans back against his door, his disappointed glare, unrelenting, as he rails at me. “I want to know why, if you care about him enough to protect him from your husband, why the fuck doesn’t he care enough to not let you?”
I drop my head into my hands. “Because he doesn’t know what’s happened.”
“How? That picture was in every single tabloid, including the ones in Mexico. Or does he live on the moon?”
A wave of despair washes over me. “He might as well,” I say. Stone is only one month into his three-month trip, and I feel sick to think of what he’ll say when he gets back and finds everything so different.
“Then why do you feel the need to protect him?” he snaps, and my heart trembles because, Lord, I hate hurting him.
“Because he’s not the one who broke his wedding vows. He didn’t do anything wrong, and Marcel would completely dismantle his life. I don’t want that on my conscience. It was a fling. And I just want it done.” The words leave a bitter aftertaste in their wake. But they do the trick.
“Fine. You’re entitled to your privacy, Regan. I just hate the idea of him walking around scot-free, while your name is being dragged through the mud.”
“I’m fine, Remi. I’ll have to stop some of the bleeding and try to salvage Venus Rising, but that meeting was a huge hurdle, and I just want to look forward.” I grab
his hand and give him my best little sister puppy dog eyes.
“Fine,” he sighs and pulls me into a hug. “Besides, you got everything you wanted today. I’m proud of you.”
“Not everything.” My insatiable, unflagging longing for Stone Rivers growls… I’ve been hearing it a lot lately.
The sweetness of any victories I’ve had in the last few days is tinged with the acrid reminder that Stone isn’t part of my life anymore. I’ve been grateful for the distraction of disaster.
But no matter how I starve the beast, it won’t ever stop growling. Thank God Stone’s a whole continent away or I’d be in real trouble.
2 Months Later
Pamplona, Norte de Santander
COLOMBIA
Move
Stone
