claims spousal privilege. But then it will bring a rain of fucking fire down on your head too. A hell of an investigation on your potential part in Calvin’s dealings. That’s the only way the DA will get around it—by naming you as an accomplice to his crimes.”
“And what part would that be?” Did I protest a little too loudly?
Matthew didn’t seem to notice as he stood and picked his jacket off the chair near the door. Exquisitely put together. The perfect gentleman, but with a distinct and delicious dark side.
I closed my eyes, if only to fight the urge to drag him back to bed and have my way with him all over again. It was ridiculous, this desire.
This complete and utter need.
“Spousal privilege, baby,” he said as he returned to the bed one last time. “You need it. We need it. I don’t want you or Olivia anywhere near this case. All right?”
“But I have spousal privilege even if we’re divorced, don’t I?” I tried again.
“It only protects what was said during the marriage,” Matthew replied through clenched teeth, like talking about my marriage physically pained him. “If you’re divorced—and if it ever comes up that there was any kind of threat or rancor in the marriage…well, the whole thing could potentially split wide open anyway.” He shook his head. “Not to mention my career falls apart too. And then I can’t protect you anymore. The case gets turned over to a much more bribable ADA. Calvin gets off, and we’re both fucked.”
We’d had this conversation countless times. That for everyone’s sake—especially Olivia’s—I needed to remain Calvin’s wife until the trial was over. Matthew thought I was willing to be Mrs. Gardner to protect myself from the threat of his investigation. He didn’t realize that our humiliation wasn’t the only or even the worst threat. It was the knowledge that if he ever discovered the truth, he’d never look at me the same way.
It made me a coward, but I couldn’t take that chance.
“Do you have any idea how much it kills me, sending you back to that monster?”
I shivered at the rumble of his quiet, forlorn voice. He didn’t know the half of it.
Matthew slipped his palm around my neck and stroked my cheek with his thumb. We gazed at each other for a long moment. Then he leaned down, past my mouth, and dropped kiss after kiss along my neck, my bare collarbone, before pushing the sheet out of his way so he could take my nipple between his teeth. He sucked, then worried it hard enough that I hissed. When he pulled away, the skin above it was red again. Marked.
I loved it. Just like I loved him.
Maybe because he listened to me. He looked for the line where pain and pleasure met and found it every time. Unlike the other man in my life. The one who sought out my pain, but only for his own pleasure.
“It’s all right,” I murmured as my fingers threaded into his thick dark hair. “I’ll bear it.”
He sat up, quiet as his thumb drifted over my skin, then down to my wrist, which he encircled with his fingers. “He doesn’t actually hurt you, though. Right?”
Matthew’s dark green eyes were searching, almost pleading for me to say no. He looked as desperate and trapped as I felt. As utterly helpless.
And after all, what could he do if the answer was yes? I knew this man. He would throw every caution to the wind if he believed I was unsafe. Including himself.
How could I betray that?
“Of course not,” I said, recalling every bit of conditioning I had to keep my face straight under Matthew’s probing gaze.
“Those bruises on your inner thigh—”
“I told you. I stumbled getting off the spinning bike,” I lied.
Matthew was quiet for a long moment. Then: “I would never hide anything from you that I didn’t have to, Nina. You know that, don’t you?”
Now guilt strummed through my insides like the strings of a guitar. Did I know that? Wasn’t he purposefully shielding me from his work? Did he have to?
I knew what he would say.
In order to save you from it.
I shook away the thought and did what I was best at. I changed the subject.
“How did you get in?”
Matthew gave me a curious look while he stood to put on his jacket. “The service stairs. I’m assuming you took them too.”
I nodded. “You know me and elevators.”
At the mention of my terrible claustrophobia, a sly