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Only this was so much worse. Because she truly loved him. And she didn’t know how she’d ever be able to face him again, knowing all he felt for her in return was pity.
She’d done this to herself.
Wiping her eyes, she’d said to Sergei, “Did Rodrigo invite you here? Are you friends now?”
“Friends?” Sergei’s eyes had flashed. “No. This man you married, he sent me a message. Inviting me to take you.”
Lola had frowned. There must be something lost in translation. “Take me? Take me where?”
“Away from him.” He’d snorted. “I do not understand how he could so easily tire of you. Now I, I would not so quickly tire. But I do not question. I am here. I gladly take.”
“Take?” she’d said, backing away until her heels hit the mansion’s stucco wall, trapping her.
“Da,” he’d said huskily. “His email said we must be seen together. Then he pays nothing to end the marriage.”
“What?” she’d gasped in shock, staring at him. “He would never say that!”
She’d heard a French door open, as someone came out on the moonswept terrace. Grateful to have someone else there, to stop her old boss’s apparent madness, she turned to see who it was—
“Do not worry, zvezda moya.” His eyes gleamed. Grabbing her suddenly with his big arms, he yanked her hard against him. “You are safe now. With me.”
“What? Stop!” Lola struggled in his arms, breaking away just in time to see who’d come out on the terrace.
Rodrigo.
His handsome face looked pale beneath his tanned, olive-toned skin, his dark eyes black as death as he stared at her. In another man’s arms.
“No.” Lola breathed, realizing what it must look like, after all the times he’d been betrayed. “No, Rodrigo, wait! It’s not what you think!”
But her husband didn’t wait. Without a word, he turned on his heel and went back inside the house.
Lingering behind him on the terrace, Lola saw his assistant, Marnie, staring at her smugly. Then she, too, turned and left.
“Sergei,” Lola gasped, shoving him away. “Why did you do that?”
He frowned. “You do not like?”
“Of course I don’t! What gave you the impression that I would?”
“But I thought you were a gold digger. Why not me instead of him?” He pounded his chest. “When I grow tired of you, I will openly give you a divorce! With money!”
Gripping her pink-crystal minaudière, Lola shook her head tearfully. “I love my husband. I would never, ever betray him!”
The man’s expression changed. “I am sorry. I did not know.” He looked after Rodrigo. “Sadly, he does not feel the same.”
With a tearful glance, she rushed to follow her husband into the Beverly Hills mansion. She pushed through the crowds, desperate to find him, but she could not.
Finally, she ran out into the front courtyard, by the burbling stone fountain. She came out just in time to see Rodrigo driving away.
Desperately, she ran out in front of him, blocking the Ferrari’s path. “Stop!”
Rodrigo’s black eyes pierced through her, filled with anger. “Get out of my way, Lola.”
“Not until you let me in this car!”
His voice was cold. “Your funeral.”
Lola half expected him to drive off and leave her as soon as she was no longer blocking his path. But he let her climb into the passenger seat beside him. Without looking at her, he stomped on the gas.
