He doesn’t like the question, but I don’t care if he likes it. “Other than Marlowe, no.”
“Do you think I’m out of line to ask these things?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look so pissed off?”
“Because! You think I’d hire someone I’ve fucked to come in here and run their hands all over you. You actually thought I’d do that.”
“I didn’t know if you would do that because your attitudes toward sex are very different than mine were until I met you. I’m still learning the rules of how it’s done in your world.”
He seems to lose some of his rigidity as that point strikes home. “Okay, that’s fair enough, and I wasn’t seeing it from your point of view. But you have to know I’d never disrespect you that way.”
“I do now.”
He takes a step toward me and then another.
I do the same, meeting him halfway. “Did that count as a fight?”
When he smiles down at me, I’m thrilled—and relieved—to see the tenderness is back in his sexy brown eyes. “Maybe. You kinda got me right here asking me that.” He rubs his hand over his breastbone.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I have questions. I’ll probably have others as we go forward. I need to know I’m allowed to ask them.”
His hands encircle my hips, and he gazes down at me in that intense, all-consuming way of his. “You’re allowed to ask, just as I’m allowed not to like it.”
“But you’ll always answer me truthfully?”
“Yes, I promise.”
I go up on tiptoes to kiss him. “She rubbed oil all over me. Seems a shame to let that go to waste, doesn’t it?”
“Mmm,” he says, biting my earlobe. “That would be a damned shame.”
Chapter 17
On our way to Beverly Hills in the chauffeured Bentley my dad sent for us, Natalie sits close to me, holding my hand. She’s wearing the same dress she wore for our wedding in Vegas. I’m in my favorite Armani tux. From what I’ve been told, the celebrity news programs are ablaze with the accusations Rogers’s wife is making against me, but I’m comforted by the FBI’s public statements that I’m not a suspect.
I hope they mean that. They haven’t actually told me that—yet. Emmett has spent the day on the phone trying to get more information out of them, but other than what we’ve seen on TV, they’re letting me continue to twist in the wind.
I didn’t kill David Rogers. I never met the guy. Am I sorry that someone else killed him? Not at all. After selling Natalie out to the press for money, he got what was coming to him.
Today, I need to put all that aside to focus on my gorgeous wife and the many surprises I have in store for her this afternoon and evening. In cahoots with my parents, I’ve ensured this will be a day she never forgets. Our argument earlier today has left me feeling unsettled, despite the spectacular makeup sex that followed.
I hate that she thought for one second I’d bring a woman I’d fucked into our home and pass her off as hired help. Not that I think of Jas that way. She’s done massages for the Quantum team for years now and is actually a close friend of Marlowe’s. It never occurred to me that Natalie might think I’d slept with her. But, with hindsight, I can see why she’d ask even if I’d hated that she asked.
My lifestyle is still very new to her, and I’ve encouraged her to ask questions. I have to be willing to answer them, even the ones that make me uncomfortable. I’ve never been ashamed of the way I’ve approached sex and women, and I’m not going to start now with second-guessing myself or the choices I’ve made.
However, now that I’ve found the woman I want to spend forever with, I do wish there were fewer situations and people for her to ask about.
We arrive in Beverly Hills, and my parents’ street has been shut down by event security. They wave my dad’s car in.
“Wow,” Natalie says. “They closed off the street. Do the neighbors mind?”
“No, they understand, and they have full access to their homes. If the word got out about this, we’d be overrun with paparazzi. The neighbors would rather have the security than the photographers.”
My parents come out to greet us when we arrive. Wearing a champagne-colored gown, Mom is fairly sparkling with excitement. She’s waited a long time for this day, and it makes me happy to give her something she has wanted for me. Dad loves any and all time he gets to spend with his family, so he’s also beaming as he welcomes us with hugs and kisses. He’s decked out in a sharp black tux that makes him look twenty years younger than he is.
“Your mom has gone all out,” he tells me.
“I have no doubt. I warned Natalie.”
Dad’s booming laugh echoes through the foyer as they escort us upstairs to the second floor.
“Come see.” Mom throws open the doors to the small ballroom that has hosted many of the most important Godfrey family events over the years. Inside, tuxedoed workers are scurrying about, applying finishing touches.