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* * *

When I return to the condo, I’ve mentally prepared myself to say it, and she’s in my bed asleep. Lying on her side, curled in her familiar sleeping position, I can’t bring myself to wake her. It would ruin her night, and a few more hours won’t make a difference.

Climbing in beside her, I pull her into my arms. As always, she melts into me as if she belongs there.

She always belongs there.

Since that first night in Scottsdale, I’ve known she belongs to me. Yet... that night I’d been hired by her husband to watch her. Is it possible the wheels I set in motion, taking her instead of doing my job, doomed us from the start?

Pressing my face into her hair I inhale deeply, allowing her scent to relax my mind. These thoughts will drive me crazy if I let them. Sloan tricked me as much as everyone else, and my role in this has

always been to save her from him.

Still, my mind can’t let it go. How will our beginning appear to a jury? I can only imagine how a prosecutor will take our situation and run with it. I’ve worked on prosecution teams. Shit, I’d been the key witness in the case against Slayde Bennett. They’ll crucify me.

I followed her to Scottsdale, seduced her, then killed her ex-husband.

It would drag all of Melissa’s past out of the closet and expose it to intense media scrutiny. She once called Sloan her humiliating truth, and now thanks to me, it could all be put on display for the world to see. The beatings, the prostitutes... adultery, murder. It’s a sensational, juicy story. The press would eat it up.

Tightening my hold on her, I hug her to me as my chest collapses. The weight of the position I’ve placed her in destroys me.

When morning finally rolls around, I’m exhausted from wrestling with my thoughts all night. Melissa’s still asleep, so I slip out of bed and go to the kitchen for coffee. Just as I’ve sat down, my phone buzzes. Stuart.

“What’s got you out of bed so early,” I ask.

His voice sounds surprised. “I was planning to leave a message.”

“Now you don’t have to. What’s going on?”

He clears his throat, and it sounds as if he’s been wrestling with his thoughts all night as well. “Nikki gave her notice on Friday.”

My brow rises. Not what I expected. “Didn’t you just get back to the office?”

“Yeah. She said she only stayed to keep things running until I came back.”

She could’ve told me, I think but don’t say. “What’s her reason?”

A soft voice sounds in the background on his end, and I hear a brush over the phone as he answers what I assume is Mariska. A few moments pass before he returns to the line.

“Hey, I can’t really talk about this now. I’d rather discuss it Monday. Suffice to say, it’s because of something I did.”

Shit. Nikki has never been one of my favorite employees, and I’m ready to let her go without a fight until he says those words.

“You’ve been in Saudi three years. You were in the office in Princeton a week. Now you’re with Mariska. What the hell could you have done?”

“When I get to the office Monday, I’ll call and explain.” His tone has an urgency that makes me relent.

“Fine. Monday. Enjoy your weekend.”

We end the call, and I sit back to think as I sip my coffee. I can only find one reason why Stuart would call me early on a Sunday morning to discuss Nikki resigning, and that reason is Mariska. He doesn’t want her to know. She should’ve been asleep, which leads me to believe it has something to do with sex.

I can’t believe it. Stuart is as committed to professionalism and following a code of conduct at work as I am. At the same time, when he came back from Saudi, he was addicted to narcotic painkillers and basically hitting rock bottom. Patrick and I feared he might take his life.

As much as I can’t imagine Stuart crossing a line, I can’t imagine Nikki suing us. The lion’s share of her duties has been working with me, and I’ve always treated her with respect. She and Melissa are close... Still, I know she carried a torch for my partner for years, and when he got back, well, he didn’t go to her. Mariska had been the woman to heal him.

Finishing my coffee, I stand and walk to the sink. I’ll figure out this problem, solve it, and return to handling my shit. I’m just passing the table when my phone buzzes again. Patrick. Isn’t anybody sleeping this morning?

“Why the hell aren’t you in bed with your wife? You’re supposed to be in your fucking honeymoon period.”