“Elizabeth.” Reed’s secretary, Devon, rose from her chair. She shot a quick, uncertain glance at the window through to Reed’s corner office. “Is Reed expecting you?”

“It’s a surprise,” Elizabeth admitted. She hoped a good surprise.

Devon shot another glance at his office, and there was something strange in her expression. “Let me give him a call.”

Elizabeth glanced through the window and saw a woman’s profile. She had spiky black hair and wore a dark blazer.

“You wife is here,” Devon said into the phone.

There was a split second’s delay, and then the woman shot a guilty glance through the window at Elizabeth. She immediately came to her feet.

“Who’s that?” Elizabeth asked Devon.

“She’s a job applicant,” Devon replied, busying herself with some papers on top of her desk.

Something in the atmosphere made Elizabeth feel awkward. “I hope I’m not disturbing something.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” said Devon.

The door to Reed’s office opened, and the woman came out first. She was a strong, no-nonsense type, about five foot seven, with short cropped hair, classic clothes and a self-confident stride.

She nodded to Elizabeth as she passed, leaving a clean hint of a coconut shampoo in her wake.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” said Reed, and Elizabeth turned back to face her husband.

“Surprise,” said Elizabeth, with a smile for Devon’s benefit.

He gestured to the open office door, and she preceded him inside.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she offered as he latched the door.

“Not a problem.” He indicated a pair of leather chairs in one corner of the room, bracketing a low table.

“Who was she?” Elizabeth asked.

Reed waited for her to sit down. “Who?”

“The woman who just left. Devon said-”

“She’s a client,” Reed said hurriedly.

Elizabeth froze, a terrible feeling creeping into her empty stomach. He was lying. Why was he lying?

“What kind of a client?”

Reed waved a dismissive hand. “She owns a chain of furniture stores on the West Coast.”

Elizabeth nodded, depression settling on her shoulders.

“Did you need something?” Reed asked, tone formal and polite.

I need my husband back.

She was suddenly at a loss. Did she make the proposition? Did she carry on with the seduction plan? Could she bring herself to make love with him knowing he was lying?

“Sweetheart?” he prompted, his tone more intimate.

“I felt bad about last night.” She made her decision in a rush.

“The job?”

She shook her head. “The…other.”

“Oh.”

She grasped her purse with both hands. “I was thinking, maybe we could…” She glanced around, moistening her dry lips. “Make up for lost time.”

He blinked at her.

She forced herself to boldly keep his gaze.

“You’re not seriously suggesting we make love here?”

“The Oak Castle.” She named the hotel across the street.

He glanced at his watch.

“Should I have made an appointment?” she asked tightly.

“Gage and Trent are due in ten minutes.”

“Cancel.”

“Elizabeth.” He held up his palms.

“It’s time, Reed.”

“It’ll wait until tonight.”

“But we should have done it last night.” The words were out before she could think about how they sounded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his gaze going hard. “We should have.”

She stood then, feeling supremely stupid for having dug out her black lingerie for a workaholic husband. She didn’t know why she had expected today to be any different from other days. Reed was a busy man. He fit her in when he could fit her in, and she’d best not ask for more than that.

He immediately stood with her.

“Goodbye then,” she offered, turning for the door, struggling to cope with the hurt of his rejection.

But before she could take a step, an unruly little voice urged her to show him what he’d missed. She fought it for a moment, but then decided to get the last word.

Popping the four buttons on her dress, she turned back and jerked it open.

Reed’s eyes went wide and he sucked in an involuntary breath.

“Enjoy your meeting,” she told him, redoing the buttons, flouncing out of the office and closing the door before he found his voice.

On impulse, she stopped at Devon’s desk. “What was the job?” she asked.

Devon looked confused.

“The woman Reed was interviewing. What was the job?”

“Oh.” Devon paused. “Accounting.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Elizabeth marched to the elevator, meeting Gage and Trent coming the other way. At least the part about the meeting with them was true. Elizabeth didn’t know what she would have done if he’d lied about everything.

The elevator doors closed, and the express car whooshed smoothly downward. Truth was, she didn’t know what she was going to do about any of it at all. Reed was lying to her. He was lying to her about a woman. She seemed like a woman of substance rather than style, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but note the contrast between them.

Four

Frustration was evident on the face of Reed Anton Wellington II, “Anton” to his close friends, “Mr. Wellington” or “Sir” to most, and “Father” to Reed.

“And you’re saying Kendrick never called, never suggested, never even hinted-”

“Never,” Reed confirmed, closing the library door in his parents’ Long Island mansion. “Not once, not ever.”

“It’s things like this that can impact the firm.”

“I know that, Father.”

“It’s things like this that can lose millions of dollars.”

“I know that, too.” Did Reed’s father honestly think the broader impact of the SEC investigation were lost on Reed?

Anton moved behind his desk. “You have a good lawyer? You’ll cooperate fully?”

“Of course I’ll cooperate fully. I have nothing to hide.”

Anton stared silently from beneath bushy eyebrows, and a frightening thought percolated in Reed’s mind.

“You know I have nothing to hide, right?”

“You wouldn’t be the first to succumb to temptation.”

Reed was stunned to hear the words from his own father’s mouth. “You think I would cheat?”

“I think you have a lot of pride. I think you’re very driven to succeed.”

“Wonder where I got that from,” Reed muttered.

“I need to know what we’re dealing with,” said Anton.

Reed took a step toward the wide desk. “We’re dealing with an innocent man accused of insider trading, and a ten million dollar blackmail attempt.”

“Can you prove the blackmail?”

“I’m the third person in my building to be a victim.”

“That’s not proof.”

“No, but the police are working on it. If they find the blackmailer, the SEC will most certainly drop the charges.”

“Do they need more manpower?”

Reed shook his head. “I have my own investigation underway, and Collin’s put together a legal team.”

“Never was too fond of Collin.”

“He graduated top of his class in Harvard Law.”

“On a scholarship.”

“Father, people who receive scholarships are every bit as capable as those who donate them.”

Anton harrumphed. “Genetics isn’t nothing.”

“Don’t go there,” Reed warned.

“How is Elizabeth?”

Reed threw up his hands. “I swear to you, I am walking out that door.”

“I just asked a question.”

“You just linked Elizabeth with the middle class. There-fore, in your opinion poor genetics. Don’t try to deny it.”

“All right. I won’t deny it. How is she?”

Sexy as hell, frustrated as hell, probably mad as hell since it was nearly eight-thirty and Reed wasn’t home yet. “She’s fine.”

Anton moved to the wide, oak bar and uncorked a decanter of scotch. “You mother and I keep waiting for you to announce that you’re expecting.”

“I know you do.”

When he had two fingers of scotch in each crystal glass, Anton turned back. “Any particular reason why you’re not?”

“We’ll have children when we’re ready.”

“Your mother’s anxious.”

“Mother’s been anxious since I was eighteen.”

“And now you’re thirty-four.” He handed Reed a glass of scotch. “You can see why the situation is getting worse.”

Reed tried to imagine himself explaining the fertility issues to either of his parents. But he couldn’t make the picture form in his brain. Not that he would compromise Elizabeth’s privacy in any case, especially not to his parents. She was already intimidated by their opinion of anyone outside their tax bracket.

He downed the single malt. “I have to get home.”

“I can have somebody from Preston Gautier sit down with Collin.”

“Collin’s fine,” said Reed. “It’s all under control.”

At least the SEC investigation was under control. The same couldn’t be said of the blackmail. And the same certainly couldn’t be said of his current situation with Elizabeth.

Reed could still picture the sexy underwear she’d flashed him in his office. If his meeting had been about anything other than her security and the blackmail case, he’d have chased after her like an eager pup. He’d considered doing it anyway. But then Gage and Trevor arrived, and the real world had closed in.

Elizabeth was on her third margarita in Hanna’s downtown loft, blocking out the real world and taking the edge off her humiliation.

“You actually flashed him?” Hanna’s laugh was rife with disbelief. “Right there in the Wellington International office?”

“I was wearing underwear,” Elizabeth pointed out, stretching out on her stomach on Hanna’s leather couch. Hanna was already lounging sideways in an armchair, her shoes kicked off, feet swaying, the slushy drink dangling from her fingers.

“Ever done anything like that before?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“Bet he was surprised.”