Secure Location - By Beverly Long Page 0,33

waitress paused, looked from one to another.

“Not yet,” Meg said.

Cruz shook his head and motioned for another beer. “I hate to see a lady drink alone,” he said, just as soon as the waitress was out of hearing distance.

By the time Meg finished her third margarita, her cheeks were feeling numb and she was pleasantly relaxed. And she wasn’t thinking of anything. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She was thinking of how handsome Cruz was. And nice. Patient.

She wasn’t a drinker. He knew that. But he also seemed to understand that she needed to numb her mind. He wasn’t lecturing or chiding, he was simply sitting back, nursing his own beers.

“I suppose we should go,” she said.

“Okay.” He stood up. She did the same. When she swayed just a little, Cruz cupped her elbow with his hand. He motioned to the waitress who hurried over with the check. Cruz looked at it briefly, threw some bills on the table and guided her toward the door.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Sure you are,” he said. He held up an arm to flag down a cab. “We probably should walk it off but until this guy is caught, I don’t like the idea of you being in the open. Too many nooks and crannies for the crazies to hide in.”

Meg slid into the cab and closed her eyes. She was so tired. It seemed as if she hadn’t slept in days. When they got to the front door of her hotel, she forced herself to perk up. Security watched the entrances 24/7 and she didn’t want it circulating through the break room that she’d dragged herself in, looking like death warmed over.

The absurdity of it hit her, almost making her stumble. A man with a knife had almost attacked her. She had a right to be a little upset, didn’t she? But no. She wanted everyone to think she was just fine.

Because she always wanted everyone to think everything was just fine.

When nothing had really been fine for a long time.

She stood in the empty hallway while Cruz quickly checked both their rooms. When he motioned that she could enter, she sank into a corner chair, dropping her purse next to her feet. She slipped off the heels that were starting to hurt.

“You should get some sleep,” Cruz said. He remained near the door, his stance alert.

“I want another drink,” she said.

He shook his head.

“I’m a big girl, Cruz. I can have another drink if I want it.” She knew she sounded childish.

He didn’t respond. Just moved slowly over to the bed and sat down at the end. He removed his own shoes, his necktie and cummerbund and lay back. He folded his arms, propped them under his head like a pillow, and closed his eyes. “Drink away,” he said. “Just don’t leave the room.”

There wasn’t much chance of that. She’d slept with Cruz for six years. The man could hear a pin drop. She’d turn the doorknob and he’d have her spread-eagle, smelling the carpet.

“Not to worry,” she mumbled. She opened the minibar, peered at the contents, once again considered the red wine, but decided on a beer. She figured it would mix better with the margaritas. Instead of chips, there were peanuts.

She sat back in her chair, nursed her beer, nibbled on the peanuts and studied Cruz.

He was so darn handsome. He’d inherited his mother’s high cheekbones and her smooth, mocha skin tone. His thick, dark hair wasn’t silky—no that was too feminine of a word. It was...smooth, sensual. When they were open, his dark eyes were wise, having seen all kinds of bad and good in the world.

She’d never meet anyone like him again. She’d never love anyone like she’d loved him.

Pain squeezed her middle, making it hard to breathe.

She’d given him up. Had walked away and tried not to look back. Had faced the knowledge that one day she’d stumble across him on Facebook, with one arm around his wife, the other cradling his children. And she’d think about sending him a message.

So happy you moved on.

Chapter Thirty-Two of the Big Lie.

But fate had intervened and now he was lying on her bed. And she didn’t want to be reasonable or pragmatic or even kind.

She wanted to be carefree and spontaneous and maybe even a little selfish. She set her unfinished beer on the floor and stood up. She unzipped her dress, slipped her arms out and let the gown fall to the floor.

For several minutes she stood perfectly still,