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“This had nothing to do with the murder,” I confirmed.

“Right, but everything to do with Ian,” my father said.

“More like everything to do with my agent putting it out there,” I corrected.

Ian’s cell rang and he grabbed it off the table and stepped into the kitchen.

I took my phone off speaker. “I’m glad you found him, Dad, and that it has nothing to do with the murder.”

“So am I, but you’re still going to get cameras on your house like you promised, and it might be wise to get one posted at the entrance to your property. This won’t be the last tabloid nut who tries something like this.”

“You’re my superhero, Dad,” I said.

“That’s what I like to hear. Love you, sweetheart, and make sure you get plenty of rest.”

After he hung up, I wondered if he was saying, without saying, that Ian should go home.

“I didn’t see any reason to tell you, Sarina,” I heard Ian say and naturally I continued to listen. “You didn’t inform me when you began dating that producer in London and rightfully so.”

Ian turned silent, presumably listening to Sarina’s response.

“I’m truly sorry it didn’t work out for you and the producer. But we’re both professionals, Sarina. This shoot was booked, and we were committed.” A moment of silence followed. “No, I did not keep it from you out of fear you would refuse to do the shoot, but with the way you’ve responded to the news that I’m seeing someone, I’m glad I didn’t mention it to you.”

She did still have feelings for him. Or was she jealous that she presently wasn’t seeing anyone while he was?

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Sarina. We’ve done some great shoots together.”

She must have told him she refused to do anymore shoots with him. He was sure right about the great shoots they had done together, the images of the covers embedded in my memory.

“There’s nothing left to say. No, I won’t be back to the lodge tonight.”

She wanted to talk more with him, and I bet that wasn’t all she wanted to do with him.

“You may never forgive me but try to remember that I haven’t done anything to you that requires your forgiveness. I wish you the best, Sarina. I always have.”

Ian clicked off and turned to me staring at him. He walked to the couch and sat.

“I need to tell you about this,” Ian said

“Amy told me all about you and Sarina, at least what she read in the tabloids and the rumors she heard in the world of romance readers. And I admit I searched and found the book covers you did with her. I can’t believe how sexy and intimate they are.”

Ian smiled. “One thing I like about you, Pep, you’re honest.”

“To a fault at times,” I admitted.

“It’s far from a fault and I appreciate your honesty. Those book covers were when Sarina and I were in the height of our relationship. If it could even be called that. Our time together was driven by our successful careers and pure lust. We never discussed the future. Then one day when she hung up after a call from a friend who had just found out she was pregnant, Sarina shuddered and made it clear she never wanted children. It made me realize we had no relationship—no future. I also caught her flirting with a producer from London. It wasn’t long after that she suggested we end it. I was relieved since I was about to suggest the same.”

“Yet she got annoyed that you’re seeing someone. Could she still love you?” I asked, not wanting this to come back and bite me later.

Ian laughed. “Sarina doesn’t love anyone but herself. She’s angry with me because I have someone now and she doesn’t. This shoot is done and ah dinnae care if she never wants to do another shoot with me again.”

I couldn’t catch the yawn that hurried out of me.

“You’re tired and you should be resting, and I have an early shoot in the morning.”

“You’re leaving?” I asked but why wouldn’t he? The culprit had been caught. There was no reason for him to stay. Then I recalled him telling Sarina he wasn’t returning to the lodge tonight.

“No, Pep, I’m not leaving you alone. I’ll sleep on the couch in case you need me.”

I hated to see him sleeping on the couch. What could it hurt if he shared my bed, strictly platonic, of course?

“I see that look in your eye, Pep, and I know what you’re thinking” he said with a devilish grin. “But there is no way I’m going to share your bed and not make love to you. And I want you in the best shape when we do, since it will be a marathon, not a sprint.”

I laughed. “I do like you, Ian.”


Tags: Donna Fletcher Romance