“I spoke to Travis and Hope. They both said they mentioned the trust fund to you but never tried to insinuate that I married you to access it. Travis was also again adamant that you’re simply trying to cause trouble between us.”
“And what did you say?”
“That I believe they’re full of shit.”
“Do I want to know how you’ll retaliate?”
“I’ve already done it. He’s barred from three more casinos, and she’s barred from her favorite clothing store.”
I gaped. “You can really arrange to have a shop refuse to serve a person?”
“If you have enough money and power, yes. Hopefully that will be enough to keep them from playing more mind games.”
Honestly, I doubted it would. They stood to gain a whole lot of financial goodness if they succeeded in separating Dane and me.
Fighting a yawn, I gave him a brief wave. “Well, goodnight.”
I walked up the staircase, conscious of Dane’s eyes on me the entire time. Or maybe I was just imagining it. Maybe I was just being dumb.
Reaching the landing, I glanced down at him. No, I hadn’t been imagining it. He was staring at me hard, his body still, his free hand a tight fist at his side. Like he was internally wrestling with something. And suddenly, I felt far too hot.
He took another swig from his glass and then turned away. “Night, Vienna.”
I headed to my room and puffed out a breath. I’d just reached my door when the buzzer rang once, twice, three times. I turned and headed to the hallway window. No cars were yet driving up the path, and I couldn’t see whoever was behind the gates. Again, the buzzer went off several times, like someone was jabbing it with their finger.
I went back down the stairs just as Dane re-entered the foyer. “Who is it?” I asked.
“Heather, demanding to see us,” he replied. “And I’ve just opened the gates for her.” He drank another gulp of the amber liquid. “My guess is she believes that we’re behind the recent photos Thad’s wife received of him and Heather together.”
“You had that done this quickly?”
“I’m not one to procrastinate. Especially when I need to make a point.”
We stepped outside just as Heather hopped out of her Mercedes in the courtyard. Her mouth tight, she slammed the car door closed and marched toward us. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I felt my brows rise. “Excuse me?”
She curled her upper lip. “Don’t pretend you don’t know why I’m here. Thad called me. His damn wife knows about us, because someone sent her photos of me and him together. Someone who wrote on the back of one of the pictures, ‘My conscience just wouldn’t let me keep quiet.’”
“Ah, your own words coming right back at you,” I said.
“So, what, you got a kick out of coming between me and my man?”
“Isn’t that kind of what you tried to do to me?”
“You should have known there’d be consequences to that shit you pulled.” Dane sipped more of his drink. “You could have stopped at just flirting with me, but you didn’t. You could have stopped at sending just one email, but you didn’t. You were determined to have my attention. Well, you got it.”
“This is the thanks I get for warning you that the woman you married is still hung up on her ex?” She leaned toward him. “I did you a solid.”
“You did what you seem to do best: you fucked up.” Dane swirled his glass. “If you’d stayed out of our business, we’d have stayed out of yours. You didn’t. If you have any sense, you won’t repeat that mistake.”
Heather curled her fingers like they were claws. “You’re telling me I lost my boyfriend because you didn’t like an email I sent you?”
“If you lost him, it’s because he chose his wife over you,” said Dane. “And that’s just eating at you, isn’t it? Breaking up relationships isn’t simply a power trip for you. No, you need—maybe even crave—that feeling you get when someone chooses you over a person they love. Why is that? Because you needed your parents to choose you over Vienna? You needed them to throw her away, like those men threw their wives away?”
Her eyes flickering, she took two unsteady steps backward. “You don’t know a damn thing about me,” she said to him, a tremor in her voice. “Not one thing.”
I stared at her, my mouth agape. He called it. He totally called it. I hadn’t seen it before, but he was right—she needed