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“I’m filing for divorce,” he stated, picking up one of the small devices.
“Divorce? Really?” Eli asked. “I mean, it’s about time, but still. What’s stopped you before?”
It danced on the tip of his tongue to ask for his stepbrother’s opinion. Which was ridiculous. He didn’t need anybody to advise him that divorcing his wife was the right step.
But the decision wasn’t what danced on his tongue. He wanted to talk about…his feelings. He set the phone down with a snap. “Let’s focus on why you and Claire came back,” he said. “Finding Rogue and ending my involvement with Cavendish. I hadn’t intended on being stuck here this long.”
Eli nodded slowly. “Right,” he drawled. “You’re stuck here, helping and investigating.”
Montgomery stiffened, which made Eli smile.
“You never get involved with something you feel is unimportant,” Eli stated.
“And you’ve never willingly wanted to be involved in anything I do. Yet…you’re here,” he replied. He held his hands out to encompass the room, the Manor, and the entire Cavendish property.
“I have a vested interest now. Through my wife, I’m part owner,” Eli explained. He tipped his head in brief acknowledgement. “I guess love has softened me towards you. Just a little.”
Montgomery nodded. “I’ll admit, I’m glad you’re back and able to help. I need people whose thinking is as shady as mine.” He grinned. “I want to find Rogue, neutralize him, and let you and everyone else get on with running Cavendish.”
“Any boundaries on what you mean by neutralize?” Eli asked.
“No. There’s already one body about to be swept under the rug. What’s one more?” he asked.
“Depends on how big the rug is, I guess,” Eli mused, but Montgomery recognized the savage glint in his eyes. “First things first. I don’t have any guns with me, but—”
“I’ve brought a few. Any problems with using one?” Montgomery asked.
“Only that once one person is armed, it usually leads to everyone being armed,” Eli replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can go along with contributing to that.”
“Why the fuck not?” Montgomery demanded.
“The danger isn’t worth it. With the baby on the way—”
Montgomery said something, but he wasn’t sure it was even a word.
“Yeah, you’re several months away from being a half-uncle, or whatever the hell you want to be called,” Eli replied with a broad grin.
He kept talking, but all Montgomery could focus on was a sharp pang in his chest. Words reverberated through his mind, a haunting reminder of Hartley’s declaration after they were married. Children weren’t on her “to-do list,” she had said. Fuck, they hadn’t been on his, either. And with a divorce looming, they still weren’t. But something about picturing Eli with a baby, being a father… It felt foreign. That’s all this was.
Montgomery forced a smile. “Congratulations, Eli. You’ll probably be an overbearing father, but I know Claire will be an amazing mother. Look what she’s done with you.”
“Ha ha,” Eli mocked, but Montgomery saw the contented expression his stepbrother wasn’t bothering to hide.
Before Montgomery could comment on how sappy Eli looked, the sound of the elevator opening distracted him. He glanced back through the glass door of the boardroom and saw Hartley, her posture and expression all fiery she-demon. His gut twittered.
Here we go.
She marched down the hall and stood in the doorway, cold fury streaming out of every pore. “What the hell are you two planning behind my back?” she demanded, her voice shattering their easy camaraderie.
He started to speak, but when she swung her gaze to his, his breath caught in his throat. Instead of the usual animosity he felt in her presence, something more insidious crept through his veins. In that moment, the room faded away, leaving only the intensity of their shared history and unresolved future percolating through him.
He clamped his mouth shut, frustrated. Obviously Eli’s news had resurfaced some old and ridiculous memories. He was leaving in a few days, not to mention finally divorcing the woman who stood in front of him, seething.
“We’re planning the rescue of Cavendish,” he explained, spinning his chair to face her and casually gesturing to another. “Care to join us?”
He should have known how she’d respond. Whatever soft spot he might still have for her, buried deep, like a bruise inside an apple, he found it next to impossible not to poke her with a proverbial stick.
“Seriously, we need to come up with a game plan,” Eli added, his voice gentle, as if dealing with a caged lioness.
