want to go? Where would you be safe?”
“I want to go home,” she says. “I want to go to Texas.”
“Done.” I smile at her.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” I stand up. “But we shouldn’t wait around. Let’s get you out of here before he gets out of the trade show. Is there anything in your room you have to have?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’ve got my purse.”
“Good. He’ll see the stuff and figure you’re in the hotel somewhere.”
She blinks at me, her eyes wide and trusting. “This is really happening?”
“If you want it to.”
“Yes.” The relief in her voice cuts through me like a thousand sharp knives. “God, yes.”
“Then let’s go.”
We dress quickly, and as we’re walking out of the spa, I call down to the desk, then explain who I am and what I want. And, with typical Stark efficiency, everything is ready when we arrive at the main entrance—an SUV to take Marcy home with two drivers so that they can drive straight through to Dallas, and an envelope with two thousand dollars in cash.
Marcy stares at the SUV like it’s Moses’s burning bush. And as I look at her, I can’t help but think of Damien. Our romance had been whirlwind, too. He had seduced me so thoroughly, sweeping me off my feet, showing me a whole new world. Just like Marcy’s romance, it had been hypnotic and wonderful and like something out of a fairy tale.
But dear god, what different endings. Because now Marcy cowers when Jay is near, whereas I open like a flower for Damien.
He scares her, hurts her.
And as for me, there is nothing that I would not trust with Damien. My property, my soul, my heart. My life.
They are his, and I know that he will treat them well.
I reach over and give her a hug. “You’re making the right decision. You deserve to be happy, not hurt.”
Marcy’s lips are pressed together tight, but she nods, and I’m certain she’s fighting back tears.
“They’ll really take me all the way home?”
“They really will,” I say. “Here,” I add, handing her my card. “Call me if you need anything. That’s my cell on the back. And let us know when you’re home.”
“I will.” She hugs me hard, then throws her arms around Jamie. “Thank you both,” she says, her voice raw and breathless. “I’ll text you when I get to Dallas.”
“Do,” I say. Then I give her one last hug and watch as she gets in the back of the SUV. I tip both the drivers ahead of time and tell them to drive straight through. They nod, then get in the car.
And as Jamie and I stand watching, Marcy disappears around the bend in the drive, past the fountain, and out into the Nevada afternoon.
Safe, finally. And that is a very good thing.
Chapter 8
I’m in an exceptional mood when Jamie and I return to the suite after seeing Marcy off in the SUV. Not that having a torrid weekend affair with my husband-lover isn’t deliciously satisfying, but there’s something about knowing that I really made a difference in Marcy’s life that has me flying high.
I part ways with Jamie in the living room of our suite, and she goes off to her bedroom to take a nap. Frankly, I think she’s sexting with Ryan, who took advantage of the fact that he was on site to schedule a meeting with the hotel’s head of security.
I head into my room, and when I see the box on my bed, my mood goes from spectacular to fantabulous, especially when I open it and see the slinky, sexy dress and matching shoes that Damien has bought for me.
There’s a note, too: Looking forward to seeing you in (and out) of this dress - D
I grin. I’m looking forward to that myself.
I spend the next hour getting ready. Since Mission Marcy took up my spa time, I have to do my own hair and makeup, but that’s okay, and I finish with a good fifteen minutes to spare before I’m supposed to meet Damien in front of the restaurant.
I do a last-minute turn in front of the mirror, and have to admit that he picked out an excellent dress. It’s sophisticated, yet comfortable. Sexy, but not slutty. And it’s a wrap style, so there is a high slit over my right thigh, which adds an extra level of sultriness.
Then I’m out the door and hurrying to Periscope, a new seafood restaurant that has opened inside the