they still held hands.
I don’t want you to go, she thought as she watched his sleeping profile. But this was never something we meant to sustain. And you can’t stay.
She had known that all along. She had been the one to set the ground rules.
But—oh, what a stupid thing to do—she had gone and fallen in love with him anyway.
* * *
When the time came, he packed his belongings in the carry-on bag. It took less than ten minutes. The pure gold of a hot afternoon shone in the open french windows while Molly sat outside at a patio table, drinking iced herbal tea.
Denial hadn’t worked, so he had gorged on her. He should have worked her out of his system by now. Watching her profile from the shadows of the cottage interior, he thought of everything she had taught him.
She was diametrically opposed to his dutiful, traitorous wife from that long-ago past life.
Molly’s eager excitement at her pregnancy.
The way she reached for him, both giving and receiving physical affection and sexual pleasure. His wife had been the kind to turn her face away even as she presented her cheek for his kiss.
Molly had destroyed his sovereignty of solitude. Laid waste to his cold purpose.
He had loved his sons, and they and their mother had betrayed him, but he had accepted a very long time ago that a portion of the blame must lay on him. If only he had been a better father. If he had just taken a closer involvement in their raising. If he had only known then what he knew now.
But that innocent spark of life that nestled in Molly’s body… It would grow up with her as a role model and mother. It would know her deep, abiding sense of loyalty, decency, and her affection, and he wanted to claim it more badly than he had wanted almost anything else in a very long time.
The only thing he wanted more was Molly herself.
He called for a cab. Setting his carry-on by the open windows, he withdrew an envelope and walked out onto the patio. Turning, she smiled at him.
As he looked at the small, telltale marks he had made on her skin with his teeth and hands, his body flooded with desire again. Maybe he could call in sick and steal another day. But her sunglasses couldn’t hide her exhaustion, and now, more than ever, he needed to avoid deviating from normal behavior.
He handed her the envelope. “There’s five checks in here, all under ten thousand. Movement of anything over ten grand gets an automatic report sent to the IRS, so be sure to deposit them one at a time.”
“Thank you so much,” she said as she took it. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
“It’s not a loan anymore, Molly.” When objection flashed across her features, he went down on his haunches in front of her and said harshly, “I will support the mother of my child, and I don’t want to hear any arguments about it.”
Her expression closed. “Money will be one more thing that ties us together.”
He cupped her hands in his. “You’ve trusted me this far. Trust me a little further. I will keep you both safe.” Safe from me and the life I lead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a yellow taxi approach. Huskily, he told her, “This isn’t goodbye.”
Her tight mouth softened. “Oh Josiah, it is.” She smoothed the hair back off his forehead, her fingers gentle against his skin. “I don’t want to see you again.”
Her lie shrieked at him. He pressed her hands to his mouth. “You do.”
She gripped his fingers so tight it cut off the circulation. “Yes, I do. But as long as you’re living the life you live, I won’t. You and I are not a couple. We had an affair—we haven’t even dated. We’re not together, and I’m not waiting for you. This baby and I deserve someone who will always put us first.”
The ferocity in that rocked him back on his heels.
Just as fiercely, he growled, “This isn’t goodbye. But there are several other people involved, along with those who have already been killed, and remember, careful investigations take time. I have to finish what I started for everybody’s sake—including this new young life you carry—and then I will find you.”
“Am I supposed to believe you’ll walk away from your plans for building power, just like that? Well, I don’t. You’ve had a long damn time