Page 13 of All or Nothing


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“Because you’re doing such a bang-up job at it lately. But wait.” He thumped himself on the forehead. “Poor choice of words.”

Against his will, a smile tugged at Conrad’s face. “Really, Donovan. Don’t you have some geeky computer tech support work that needs your attention before we all leave?”

“You can call me a geek all night long, brother, but I’ll be sleeping next to a woman.” Donavan punched him in the arm.

Conrad lifted an eyebrow, but preferred the joking to sympathy any day of the week. Something his best friend undoubtedly understood. “Hit me again, and I’m going to beat the crap out of you.”

Donavan snagged his fedora from the lounger. “Everybody wants to beat the crap out of me today. What’s up with that?”

“Get out of here before I break you in half.”

“Because I feel very sorry for you, I’m just going to walk away.” He spun his hat on one finger. “But I’m taking a bottle of your Chivas with me so you won’t feel bad for scaring me off.”

“Jackass.”

“I feel the love, brother. I feel the love.” He opened the French doors and paused, half in, half out. “See you inside later?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded once. “And thank you.”

Donavan nodded back. No more words were needed.

His friend had helped him decompress enough to see clearly again. He needed to keep his eye on the goal now, to keep Jayne safe at all cost.

He might not be the man she deserved, but he was damn well the man she needed.

* * *

Jayne rolled her small bag out into the living room, having used the past couple of hours to change out of her evening gown and generally get her head together. If that was even possible after her world had been so deeply shaken in such a short time.

The sun hadn’t even risen yet.

If they hadn’t been interrupted, she would have been in Conrad’s bed now, completely unsuspecting of this.

She realized his secret had noble roots, a profession that brought justice, so different than her father’s secret life, his hidden second family with a mistress and two children. But the fact that she’d been duped so totally still hurt on a deep level. Trusting her heart and her life to Conrad had been very difficult.

How could she reconcile the fact that she hadn’t even begun to know the man she’d married? Walking away with any kind of peace when she’d thought she understood him was tough enough. But now with so much mystery surrounding Conrad and their life together, she felt like every bit of progress she’d made since leaving had been upended.

And with this possible threat lurking, she didn’t even have the luxury of distance to regain her footing.

The Donavans sat in the leather chairs, talking over glasses of seltzer water. She felt uncomfortable having Troy and Hillary pose as decoys for them. The thought of anybody in harm’s way because of her made her ill. But she hadn’t been given any say on the matter.

She also couldn’t help but note how seamlessly Hillary had been brought into the plan. Apparently not all Interpol operatives kept secrets from their spouses.

The stab of envy for that kind of compatibility wasn’t something she was proud of. But, damn it, why couldn’t she have found her way to that sort of comfort with her husband? What was wrong with her that Conrad had never even considered confiding in her?

Just as she rolled her bag the rest of the way in, Conrad stepped out of his suite. His normal dark and brooding style of clothes had been swapped out for something more in keeping with Troy’s metro style. She couldn’t take her eyes from the relaxed look of her husband in jeans and a jacket, collar open, face unshaved, his thick black hair spiked.

Troy looked back over the chair, water glass in hand. “Good timing. Salvatore should be done any minute now. He’s arranging the travel plans, complete with diversionary stories going out to the press.” He glanced over at his wife. “Did I forget anything?”

“Just this.” Carrying one of her husband’s hats, Hillary walked to Conrad. “You should wear this. And maybe slick back your hair a bit. Here...” She reached for her water glass. “Use some of this since you didn’t have time to shower.”

Troy choked on his drink.

Conrad glared at him.

Jayne wondered what in the world was wrong with both of them.

Her husband took the fedora from Hillary. “I’m good. Thanks. I’ll take good care of his hat.”

“Take good care of yourself while you’re at it,” Hillary said just as her husband looped an arm around her waist and hauled her to his side. “Yes?”

Troy held up his phone. “Text from Salvatore. Time to roll.”

With a hurried goodbye, Troy and Hillary stepped into the elevator, his head bent toward hers to listen to something. The two of them looked so right together, so in sync even in the middle of chaos.

Jealousy gripped Jayne in an unrelenting fist.

The doors slid closed and she wished her feelings could be as easily sealed away. She turned back to her husband. “Where are we going?”

Conrad thumbed through his text message, Troy’s fedora under his arm. “To the jet.”

“And the jet would be going to...”

He looked up, his eyes piercing and closed off all at once. “Somewhere far away from here.”

His evasive answer set her teeth on edge. “Now that I know about your double life, you can drop the tall, dark and mysterious act.”

She yanked the fedora from under his arm, his jacket parting.

A shoulder holster held a silver handgun.

“Oh,” she gasped, knowing she shouldn’t be surprised, but still just... “Oh.”

He pulled his jacket back over the weapon. “The people I help nail don’t play nice. They are seriously dangerous. You can be as angry at me as you want, but you’ll have to trust me, just this once, and save your questions for the airplane. I promise I’ll tell you anything you want to know once we’re airborne. Agreed?”

Anything she wanted to know? That was one promise she couldn’t resist. Probably the very reason he’d said it, tossing irresistible temptation her way. But it was an offer she intended to press to the fullest.

She pulled out a silk scarf to wrap over her blond hair. “Lead the way.”

* * *

Once the chartered jet reached cruising altitude, Conrad took his first easy breath since he’d found Salvatore waiting for him in the penthouse. He was that much closer to having Jayne tucked away in the last place anyone would think to find either of them.

Jayne hadn’t moved her eyes off him since they’d left the penthouse. Even now she sat on the other side of the small table, tugging her silk scarf from hand to hand. He watched the glide of the deep purple fabric as it slid from side to side. Until now, he hadn’t realized she dressed in bolder colors these days. A simple thing and inconsequential, but yet another sign that she’d moved on since leaving him. She’d changed and he couldn’t go back to the way things were.

But back to the moment. Without a doubt, the boom was going to fall soon and he would have to answer her questions. He owed her that much and more. He reached for his coffee on the small table between them, a light breakfast set in front of them.

He wasn’t interested in food. Only Jayne. He could read her well and the second she set aside the scarf in her hands he knew. She was ready to talk.

“We’re airborne, and you owe me answers.” She drizzled honey into her tea. “Tell me where we’re going.”

“Africa.”

Freezing midsip, she stared at him over the top of her cup. “Just when I think you can’t surprise me. Are we staying somewhere like the island resort where we planned to spend our first anniversary?”

“No.” He couldn’t miss the subtle reminder of when he’d bailed on their first anniversary retreat in Seychelles. Without a doubt, he owed her for all the times he’d shortchanged her in the past. He raised the window shade, the first morning rays streaking through the clouds. “We’re going to West Africa. I have a house there.”

“Another thing I didn’t know about you.” Her voice dripped with frustration as thick as the extra honey she spooned into her tea. “Do you mean something like a safari resort?”

“Something like that, nothing to do with business, though.” She would see for herself soon enough, and he had to admit, he wanted to see her reaction without prior warning. “I purchased the property just before we split. A case led me to... It doesn’t matter. You’re right. I should have told you about an acquisition that large.”

“If it’s your home, can’t we be found there?”

“The property was purchased under a corporate name, nothing anyone would connect with me. There’s not much point in a retreat if the paparazzi can find you.”

“Well, if the press hasn’t found out about it, then the place must be secure.” She half smiled. “So do we plan to hide in Africa indefinitely?”

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