Part 43 (1/2)

”You know, Lara, if anyone was going to melt his heart, I was sure it was going to be you.”

”Thanks for that.” She walked Erin outside. The two hugged, and Erin gave her a rea.s.suring squeeze.

She'd barely pulled away when Suzy-Q made a break for it, bounding across the yard to plant her paws on Lara's shoulders and her lay her head on top of one. ”BFF,” she whispered to the dog.

Mrs. Fuhrman came over with a leash in hand. ”I swear she loves you, Lara.”

”It's mutual.” She stroked behind the dog's ma.s.sive ears.

”What happened with the moving man?”

For weeks, Lara had wondered if Mrs. Fuhrman watched the neighborhood happenings from her window and sent the dog outside as an excuse to come and get her. The question confirmed her suspicions. ”Things didn't work out,” she said noncommittally.

”Well, the neighborhood wouldn't have been the same without you. But he was a strapping young thing, wasn't he? Odd that a moving company has their gentlemen wear such nice clothes.”

She smiled, maybe for the first time in days.

After getting Suzy-Q on the leash, Lara went back inside.

The house seemed larger than usual, and emptier.

She was tempted to ignore the boxes, but it was better to have something to do than spend the rest of the evening moping.

Tucked inside her pile of lingerie, she found a jeweler's box. She opened it to see the wedding rings that he'd purchased.

Warning herself not to be stupid, she couldn't resist the impulse to try them on.

The fit was exact, and the setting suited her personality.

Light hit the diamond and refracted a hundred different directions. She traced a finger across the stone.

Touching the cold surface somehow made the ending of their relations.h.i.+p more final. When he'd packed her belongings, he'd included the things he'd bought for her, the ring, the black dress, the necklace.

The emotion she thought she'd been able to manage broke free. She sank onto the floor, curled her legs to her chest and began to cry.

Lara wished she could take back the last few weeks, pretend she'd never met Connor, never knelt before him or called him Sir, never felt his belt or experienced the uninhibited eroticism that came from letting him share a fantasy.

But as each memory returned, she wondered if that was true. If she hadn't gone to him, she would have missed the pain, but she would never have had the experiences that had changed who she was.

”You, my friend, don't look like a man who has been on his honeymoon.”

Over the finest bottle of whisky distilled by one of Kennedy Aldrich's companies, Julien lifted his gla.s.s. f.u.c.k.

”I was waiting for you to tell me about it. I've been pretending I didn't know that you'd removed Lara as an administrator from your calendar app. I've said nothing, nothing at all, not a single word about the fact no one has filed a completed certificate of matrimonial bliss with your name on it. Ergo...”

He waited.

”The wedding didn't happen. You're not married. In fact, you're behaving like a rather miserable lout who no one wants to be around.” Julien lifted his gla.s.s. ”How'd I do?”

”You're called a genius for a reason,” Connor agreed, downing the drink in a single swallow.

Julien shuddered. ”It's for sipping, you heathen. Sipping.”

He put down his gla.s.s.

”What do you think of the club?” Julien asked.

Julien had flown in to look at potential retail outlets for the next Bonds store, but at Kennedy's behest, he was checking out the local lifestyle club. The place was on the market, and Kennedy was interested in either buying it or investing in it.

”It's not what I'm accustomed to,” Connor replied. Most clubs he'd been to weren't this upscale. They were in warehouses where late-evening comings and goings didn't bother residents. This was a house on several acres of secluded wooded land in exurban Houston, not likely to bother neighbors and offering plenty of discretion.

The two-story home had been significantly modified, with beams installed for suspension play, and walls had been knocked out between former bedrooms, creating large, open s.p.a.ces. There was a small lounge area with comfortable seating and small tables. Though alcohol wasn't generally served, they'd been allowed to bring in their own because they weren't partic.i.p.ating in any scenes. ”I'd say it has potential. I'd want to see the former owner's profit and loss, though, before I got giddy about the possibilities.” From where they sat, they had a view of an open s.p.a.ce that contained a spanking bench much like the one he had at home, one that he kept imagining Lara secured to.

”You don't get giddy about much. Never have.”

”Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like where this is going?” Connor asked.

”Because I'm going to meddle in your life. And you never like that. Let's just pretend this is a visit to the dentist and get it over with, shall we?”

A few couples wandered past. Two walked upstairs while another helped themselves to complimentary soft drinks and sat at a nearby table.

Since it was early, the music volume was still low, something he knew would change soon.

”Bad s.h.i.+t happens in life,” Julien said.

And because Julien knew what the h.e.l.l he was talking about, Connor agreed. ”Random odds.”

”You have choices along the way. Your father being in love with Stormy didn't get him killed.”

He leveled a glance at his friend. ”Proceed with caution.”

”Oh, f.u.c.k bubbles. I didn't travel more than a thousand miles not to plow ahead with careless disregard for life or limb. How many mad, das.h.i.+ng affairs have you had? Oh, wait. Don't answer that. Dozens. So b.l.o.o.d.y many you need a statistician to help keep it straight.”

”You have a point?”

”No matter who you married, you wouldn't have an affair. You wouldn't put yourself in that position.”

In the main room, a woman entered, wearing ridiculously high heels. She had shapely calves, a nicely curved a.s.s...

”You wouldn't promise yourself to one woman then get another pregnant.”

He tore his gaze away to look at Julien. ”Love doesn't cheat.”

”There you are.”

”There...? What?”