Witt was the name that echoed in her head until she looked at the man on top of her. He pulled out of her in one swift move, and her body closed in on itself. Inevitable shame nudged the edges of her dissipating afterglow.
Nick lay still between her legs. “I didn’t use a condom.”
His words made her feel open, vulnerable, cold. “I didn’t need one.”
She couldn’t have children. She and Cameron had learned that early on in their marriage.
“What about the Round Up—”
He stopped, and she knew suddenly he didn’t mean making babies. He meant disease. He meant her. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, but she kept them wide. “You don’t have to worry. I’m healthy as a horse.”
“I wasn’t saying...” But he was. She could see it in his eyes. He ran a finger gently down her face. “You don’t need the Round Up or those guys anymore, you know. I’ll take care of you.”
Her stomach clenched. “Take care of me?”
“I want to.”
“Nobody takes care of me but me.” She pushed at his chest.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You’re heavy.” She’d craved just that kind of divine heaviness since Cameron’s death. Now, it suffocated her.
His lids fell, shuttered his eyes, then he stood and pulled up his jeans. He towered over her, and the dynamic shifted. Man on top. In control.
Max sat, backed up one step, closed her legs, pulled together the lapels of her robe, and went for the jugular. It was the obvious power play. “Wendy died because of your affair.”
He stared at her as he fastened the buttons of his jeans. His jaw moved with the grind of his teeth. “Wendy died because I left her alone that night.”
Max stood, too, three steps above him. Buzzard mewled softly at the top of the stairs. “She died because someone knew she’d had an affair with you.”
“We’d stopped seeing each other when I left Hackett’s.”
“You started again.”
“No one could have known she was meeting me.” He grabbed her arms, shook her slightly. “Where the hell is this shit coming from? We just made love.”
She laughed at him. “Made love?” Then she shrugged him off. “We just fucked. The way you fucked Wendy every morning before Remy got there.”
“That’s not the way it felt when you came against my mouth.”
“I told you I like orgasms.”
She wanted him hurting, bruised, and down. She wanted him gone. She wanted her shame hidden from the light of day. Hidden from him. Then maybe she could hide it from herself.
“Wendy left her husband for you. And someone killed her because of it.”
The breath he took expanded the shirt across his chest.
She felt a sharp pain right beneath her bottom rib, as if someone had shoved a knife up there. And twisted. “Maybe you’ve got a clue about who’d have done that.”
He tensed. “Yeah?”
“Maybe it was your wife, Nickie.”
He went still, rock still, except for the muscle ticking in his cheek. “She didn’t know I was meeting Wendy that night.”
“She picked up the kids. She could’ve seen Wendy.”
“She didn’t know what Wendy looked like.”
“Don’t kid yourself.”
His gaze went flinty. “She couldn’t have known.”
“You know she did.”
He backed up, feeling behind him for the doorknob. “I warned you before. Leave my wife out of this.”
“Soon-to-be ex-wife. Feeling guilty that you might have driven your wife to murder?”
His nostrils flared. His fist tightened on the knob. His knuckles whitened. But he said nothing.
“Is she driving your 4Runner?”
“What?” He gaped at Max’s full frontal attack.
“A green Toyota 4Runner tried to run me down this evening. Your wife reported yours stolen this morning.”
Something flickered across his face. Anger? Fear? She couldn’t be sure. “Don’t push. You won’t like what happens.”
But Max couldn’t help pushing. It was what she did best. “Did she kill Wendy? Is she waiting out there to kill me after you leave, Nickie?”
He didn’t slam the door. He simply left without another word. She pushed the curtain on the door aside, but he’d gone as quietly as he’d arrived. She stared at the empty driveway.
“He isn’t coming back, you idiot.” Neither was Cameron. She let the curtain drop.
She reached down to pick up her underwear, and something warm trickled down the inside of her thigh.
Her face burned with her shame before she ruthlessly shoved the emotion aside.
Outside, gravel crunched beneath rolling tires.
Max’s heart kickstarted. She stepped back until her heels hit the first stair. If it was him, she sure as hell wouldn’t look anxious by peering out that window again.
A dark shape appeared. The pounding on the door was loud, authoritative. Max hesitated. Wendy screamed inside her.
Open the damn door.
She opened it to shut up the voice.
Her mouth went dry. A uniformed cop stood on the threshold, his fist still raised in the air. God, why? Did they know Nick was near?