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Patricia sighed. She’d just irked her husband again, and she was alone. Then her mood brightened. Rusty was coming, and within the hour she received a confirmation text.
Arriving early afternoon tomorrow. Will text to let you know when I’m on the ground. Can’t wait to see you.
***
Michael had invited Liz to lunch, which meant sex for dessert, and she was going through her closet, trying to find something to wear. Finally, she chose one of her new winter sweaters paired with gray slacks and black ankle boots, and matching black lace lingerie to go under it all.
She liked Michael a lot. Sometimes she thought she was in love, but she always loved sex. He was slim and fit, and had thick blond hair with a tendency to curl, and pale-blue eyes that melted when she stripped for him. And he was the only son and heir to the Devon fortune. All check marks in Liz’s credit column. The only mark he had in Liz’s debit column was he didn’t have Cameron Pope’s bad-boy cachet, but Cameron didn’t know she existed, so there was that.
After giving herself a final look of approval, she left the penthouse and drove to the Hotel Devon then sent Michael a text.
I’m in the parking lot, starving for Cajun food and you.
Michael was just coming out of a meeting when he got Liz’s text. He read it as he walked, smiling all the way to the elevator. He could just as easily skip the shrimp and settle for extra time with Liz, but he knew his girl. She had a healthy appetite for food, for sex, and for life in general.
He wanted to marry her but he’d never asked. He’d felt her resistance to a commitment more than once, and Michael didn’t like to be told no, so he was biding his time and enjoying her company for now.
He approached the exit, frowning slightly when he saw her parked at the front entrance blocking the flow of traffic as if she owned the hotel, which was typical. But the smile she gave him as he came out of the building annulled his disapproval.
“Hello, you!” Liz said, as Michael got into her sports car, then leaned over and kissed her square on the mouth.
“Hello, you,” he said, and ran a finger up the inseam of her slacks.
“Ready and waiting,” she drawled, then laughed. “Buckle up, big man! Cajun Katie’s, here we come.”
Two hours later, they were naked as the day they’d been born and going at it like rabbits in one of Jack Barton’s tiny cabins. They always chose the one farthest from the main office, because Liz Caldwell had a tendency to scream when she came. Only this trip out, she’d had a little too much to drink with lunch, and her hidden fantasies about Cameron Pope turned into words spilling out of her mouth.
“Oh God! Oh God! Harder, Cam, harder!” she moaned. Then all of a sudden, everything stopped. Her eyes flew open. Her face flushed a dark, angry red. “Why did you stop? You ass! I was almost there!”
Michael was still inside her, hard and throbbing, but the look on his face suddenly scared her. “You bitch!” he whispered. “You cheating little bitch!”
Liz gasped. “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t cheat on you with anyone!”
He grabbed her by the throat with one hand and squeezed just enough to make her choke.
“What’s the matter with you?” Liz shouted. “Why are you acting like this?”
“You called me Cam. ‘Harder, Cam, harder,’” he whispered, and then turned loose of her as if she was filth and rolled off. “Go fuck yourself, Elizabeth. My stud fees are too high for a whore like you.”
There was one moment of sheer terror, and then Liz countered with an assault of her own. She shoved him aside and leaped from the bed. “You’re an ass. A complete and utter ass! I said, ‘Harder, damn…harder!’ I don’t even know anyone named Cam.”
“You know Cameron Pope!” Michael shouted. “You talked about him twice during lunch!”
Liz rolled her eyes and began grabbing for her clothes and yanking them on.
“His name was mentioned regarding that horrendous kidnapping and the escaped prisoner incident, which, if you’ll remember, you brought up! You introduced the subject, not me! I just responded to the conversation, Michael Devon. And I’m over this. Put your dick back in your pants and get your shoes, or I swear to God I’ll leave you to walk back into Jubilee on your own.”
Now Michael was completely convinced he was wrong and started trying to backpedal. “Look, Lizzie, you have to see it from—”
Liz moved until she was only inches away from his face. “Nobody calls me Lizzie, andno, I don’t have to do anything!Youlook at my neck. If there are bruises there and Daddy asks, I’m telling him where they came from, understand?”
They dressed in silence, both of them reeling from the shock of what just happened. Liz had bluffed her way out of what she’d done, and Michael was groveling all the way out the door.
Liz slammed herself into the driver’s seat and drove Michael back to the Hotel Devon. He opened the door to get out, but then couldn’t bear to leave her angry with him. He reached for her arm and began pleading his case again.
“Liz, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s just…I love you…and hearing that shattered me. Please forgive me.”
“Get out, and close the door!” Liz snapped. As soon as he did, she spun out on the pavement and never looked back.
