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“Control the press now, do you, darling?” she said, her tone brittle. “You’re more powerful than the president.”

“I have connections. And that,” he spat, “isn’t news. It’s the lowest form of entertainment, given to people who have nothing better to do than to sit and enjoy the misery of others. The modern-day Greek tragedy.”

“Yep. All the catharsis of Oedipus Rex without the incest,” she bit out. “I’m so thrilled to be a part of it.”

“I would have spared you from this.”

“It doesn’t matter, Ajax,” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “If they didn’t print it, it wouldn’t make it any less true. You wanted her...you got stuck with me.”

“I didn’t love her.”

“But you wanted her.”

He couldn’t imagine taking Rachel to his bed, not even in the vaguest fantasy. He couldn’t imagine having or wanting any woman other than Leah. He could picture her even now, her dark curls spread over his pillow, her arms raised above her head, pushing her breasts up. An offering. One he would always accept.

“I don’t want her now.” He didn’t think he ever had really.

“I... That’s good. But still... Backup Bride. Yay. That’s catchy. That’s going to stick.”

“I will...”

“You will what, Ajax? Go in and be all mean and scary and demand retractions? Why? What’s the point?”

He reached down and cupped her chin. “Because I will not have them hurt you like this.”

“Why not? You hurt me all the time.”

He dropped his hand down to his side, a strange, cold feeling spreading from his chest down to his fingertips.

The elevator doors slid open, and she walked out into the hall, standing by the door, waiting for him to open it. She pushed past him and into the living room. “So, great, I’m going to bed. And I think I’m going to let you off the hook tonight.”

“Let me off the...?”

“Of our deal. Every night. My bed. I don’t want to do that tonight.”

“Why?” he asked, knowing it was a stupid question, and yet he had no idea how to fix the situation he found himself in. Leah had been different in the candy store. Softer for a moment. More like the Leah he’d always known.

But now her guard was up, walls strong and high around her. He couldn’t reach her. Didn’t know what to say or do.

“I have a headache,” she said. “Something to do with overexposure to flashbulbs. Good night.”

She stalked out of the room, and Ajax walked to the bar. He kept a bar in his house, and it was fully stocked. He told himself it was for guests, but deep down he knew. He knew he was waving a red flag in front of the beast, tempting him.

And tonight...tonight he nearly took the bait.

He gritted his teeth and turned away from it. He was in control. No one would take that from him, not even Leah.

CHAPTER TWELVE

LEAH WOKE UP feeling horrible, and her mood lasted the whole day. Last night’s encounter with the press had been the embodiment of her every past insecurity. Of her every current insecurity. So many people so certain she wasn’t good enough. So confident in saying it. In reminding her that her husband, the man she made love with every night, didn’t really want her.

She had ample time to get grouchier since Ajax spent the whole day at Holt and she spent the whole day replaying the press fiasco, and every lame encounter she and Ajax had had since their marriage, without the memory of recent good sex as a buffer.

She was digging through his freezer, looking for something for dinner, when he came back home.

“Leah,” he said, coming into the room, “I hope you didn’t eat.”

“That was actually why I was spelunking through your freezer. I’m hungry.”

“I don’t have much of anything in this house. I’m not here often enough.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Order a pizza?”

“No, I thought we might go out.”

“Why?”

He held a newspaper out in front of him, folded open to the society pages. There was a photo, a huge photo, of her and Ajax, walking out of Leah’s Lollies last night. They both looked strained, and they had a gap between their hands that looked extremely...significant. She imagined the facial expressions were from the camera. As for the not touching...well, she wasn’t allowed to touch him. Not when he didn’t want. So that was his fault.

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