Check, though those were really clinical words to describe the feelings unsettling him. He’d never felt anything like this and he didn’t have anything to compare it with. What her parents felt for one another? That had looked like love to him. When he’d seen Marco and Silvana, he’d been struck by an odd jealousy. Those two had been through hell together, would have done anything to make one another happy and whole. Jason couldn’t deny he wanted what they shared.

3. Sexual passion.

Um…like mad. He wanted his wife all the time. Check, check, check.

Well, shit. He was in love. What a fine time to realize it now that Gia was gone.

If his mother could see him now, she’d laugh her head off—after she’d asked him for money, of course.

Jason gripped the phone tighter. What did he do about this mess? He’d been angry with his wife last night. He’d tried to help her and keep her safe, and he’d been hurt. So he had thrown in the towel. But really, he couldn’t keep the relationship going for them. She had to want it, too.

Why didn’t she? Was he that unlovable?

As he ping-ponged mentally whether he should let her go and call his attorney or find another way to lure his wife to his side, his phone rang. He stared at the display.

Gia.

His heart stopped. But he could only make one choice.

He stabbed the button with his finger and answered. “Yes?”

“Jason, I need to talk to you.”

Her voice trembled, and he braced. Whether she felt guilty or angry or worried, she’d brought them to this place. Okay, he’d probably helped. Being decisive and in charge worked for him in business. It didn’t translate quite as well in marriage. His mistake, and he’d already taken note for future reference. That, and the fact that he fucking missed her, were the only reasons he’d answered her call now. But without calm, productive conversation…their marriage could only be heading one place.

“I’m listening.”

“Face to face. I can’t do what I need to over the phone.”

Do, not say, he noticed. Had she decided not to wait the eight days until their anniversary to file for divorce? Most women wouldn’t pass up decent six figures just to be free a few days early. Gia? With her, anything was possible.

He could point out the pitfalls of bailing early on their agreement, but she was smart. She knew the score. And even if it made him foolish, he wanted to know what the hell was going on in her head. He wanted to see her, too. Might as well not kid himself. Besides, once she’d served him with papers and they started down the grand road to divorce, he wanted to look her in the eye and tell her that he loved her. In part because he knew he’d never feel like he’d given this his all until he did. And also because he wanted Gia to know exactly what she’d lost.

“When and where?”

“Four thirty. Lakeside Park, by the granite teddy bears.”

The park he’d taken her to early in their relationship for their first scene together, a semi-public one meant to open her submission and fulfill a fantasy. The same one in which she’d called her safe word and nearly ended everything between them for good.

Symbolism. Fabulous. He loathed that shit.

“I’ll be there.”

“Thank you. See you then.”

Before he could reply, she hung up. Jason cursed, then paced his empty condo. He had exactly eight hours to decide how to approach her.

Grabbing his gear, he left his place. Too many memories of Gia here pelting him now. He wished like hell he would have thought of that before he’d coerced her to stay in his home. He could have gotten a suite at the Crescent or something. But no. He’d wanted her in his personal space, in his bed, as if she shared his life. So she would experience what their marriage could be like.

Dumb ass.

Making his way out the door and to his Porsche, he drove the city aimlessly, past his boyhood neighborhood, past upscale shops and family neighborhoods. A pretty brunette pushed a stroller on the sidewalk, a napping toddler securely tucked in. The smiling woman looked visibly pregnant with another child.

Why couldn’t that be his life? His family?

Damn it, he sounded maudlin.

His phone rang again. He couldn’t see the screen while driving, but he pounced on it. “Gia?”

“Is that your wife or your latest girl toy?”

Samantha. He sighed. “Did you want something?”

“Well, I’m being a good mother this time and inviting you to my engagement party.”

Jason recoiled. “That was fast. The guy you met at Neiman’s?”

She sighed as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Geoffrey is a wonderful man. You’ll like him. He takes such good care of me.”

Whatever. “What do you like about him? I mean, besides his bank balance.”

“Well, he’s charming, of course.”

“Do you love him?”

She gasped, affronted. “Would I marry anyone I didn’t?”

Only four other times. “Would you take care of him through thick and thin?”

“Jason, Geoffrey is ten years younger than me and in perfect health. Neither of us are on our death beds.”

And his mother was missing the point of the question completely, probably on purpose.

“Would you do anything to comfort him if he lost something priceless?” He couldn’t compare Gia’s unflagging support of her family after Tony’s death against his mother helping her next fiancé through a missing cuff link or whatever. The questions were soaring right over his mother’s head because she valued things far more than people.

She laughed off his questions. “I’m sure I’d find the appropriate words for such a moment and hand him a double Scotch. Where are you going with this?”

Jason winced and gave up explaining it to her. She had limitations, and he wouldn’t change her. But one thought resonated in his head over and over: If he let Gia slip through his fingers, he’d probably wind up with a new wife every five or ten years, each one much like Samantha.

The thought sickened him.

But he couldn’t control everything between them. He certainly couldn’t make her love him.

Fuck.

“When is the party?”

“Tonight at eight o’clock.” She rattled off an address, somewhere off of Mockingbird in Highland Park.

Old money. Naturally.

“I have a meeting at four thirty. If it wraps before then, I’ll be there.”

“Lovely. Don’t disappoint me.” Samantha hung up.

Jason ended the call and shook his head.

He felt sorry for his mother because she would never know anything deeper than the joy of pretty, shiny things for sale. She’d never really feel her heart. Moreover, he didn’t want to be like her. He wanted what Gia’s parents had.

He wanted Gia.

How could he impress that upon her when he saw her this afternoon? All his usual ideas—jewelry, handbags, shoes—took him in the wrong direction. She wouldn’t care about any of that. She wouldn’t take a trip to an alley with him, much less anywhere tropical and fabulous so that he could romance her unless she wanted to be with him.

Other than her divorce settlement, she didn’t seem to care about money. In fact, now that he thought about it, her agreeing to spend eighteen days with him for the cash seemed out of character.

Unless the money wasn’t for her at all.

He pounded on the steering wheel with a sigh. Oh, hell. He’d been so stupid.

But at least he knew what to do now.

A few errands and a lot of anxious waiting later, Jason pulled up at the park, locked his car, and headed toward their meeting point. The sun shined brightly, the thermometer edging toward the seventy degree mark as the last of autumn fought against a winter that would soon encroach. A few leaves still clung to the trees. Ducks swam in the nearby pond. Kids ran and laughed across the little stone bridge near the granite bears that served as monuments in the park. He’d grown up here and always thought of this place as a little slice of heaven, a refuge in the city.

Now being here just ate at his guts.

Jason glanced at his watch. Right on time. He looked around for Gia, leaning against a little railing, hoping like hell he’d made the right decision.

As he second-guessed himself, Gia approached in a pair of faded jeans, a simple coral-hued T-shirt paired with a beige sweater, and flip-flops. What she didn’t wear was her wedding ring or a smile. Jason couldn’t stop the anxious slide of his stomach to his toes.

He didn’t want a goddamn divorce.

“Hi,” she greeted. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

He wanted to hold her. Fuck, he wanted to take her, possess her, convince her that she was his and always would be. But she put off a vibe that gave him pause. Not a fuck-off sort…but not precisely welcoming, either.

“Of course. What’s on your mind?”

She drew in a not-quite-steady breath—a hint that she was nervous, too. “I’ve given everything that happened recently a lot of thought. I’ve made some decisions and taken some action.”

Here it came, Gia telling him that she’d filed. He clenched his jaw, braced for the worst, and resolved to at least listen before he spoke. Then he intended to fight like hell. She might not see it yet, but they were right for one another.

“We made an agreement before I came back to you. I am determined to keep up my end of things, so I’ll return for the next eight days if you want.”

“Because you want the money from the divorce settlement?”

“Yes.”

“So…you haven’t filed yet?”

“No.”

Thank God for that. “Then what? You plan to hire an attorney and just…go on with your life as if this never happened?”