“Shit.” Alex stamped on the accelerator and the Jaguar shot forward.
“It was scary as hell.”
“I bet.” He gunned the engine. “Damn.” His face had turned chalk white, his lips flattened over his teeth. “I’ll have Lars check the house top to bottom.”
“No!” she said sharply and shook her head. “I mean . . . it seems ridiculous now and even if there was someone there, he’d be long gone.”
“We have a security system and a gate. How’d the intruder get in?”
“Good question,” Marla said and would have yawned but her muscles wouldn’t stretch. She was so tired and it was difficult to talk. “Maybe he wasn’t even there. Maybe I dreamed him up.”
“Did you call the police?” Alex’s voice was grim, his knuckles showing white.
“No.” She shook her head. “It could have been a dream. You know, like the one at the hospital . . .”
“If you’re frightened, we could have the police come out and investigate,” he said. “You wanted to talk to Paterno anyway . . . but . . . shit, I don’t know. Maybe we’re all just tired and we can sort it out in the morning.” He cranked on the steering wheel. “I could hire a security guard.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Well, there is another option.” His voice had softened.
“What?”
“You could sleep with me.”
No! She looked at him sharply, but he kept his eyes trained straight ahead. Her heart pounde
d and adrenalin surged through her blood at the thought of sharing a bed with him. She couldn’t imagine kissing him, or even just lying close to him, spooned on his king-size bed, his arm around her. Her stomach clenched and she glanced through the window to the fog that was rolling in, seeping around the lampposts and buildings. Though the thought of being in his bed with him was repellent, she couldn’t help but ask. “Why don’t we sleep together?”
He snorted and stabbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “That was your choice. A couple of years back.” He glanced at her as if deciding whether to confide in her, then after waging a mental battle, lifted one shoulder. “The truth of the matter is that you . . . well you’ve been interested in other men.”
“Men,” she repeated aghast. Nick’s rugged image and the memory of wanting to kiss him sizzled through her mind. It was true she was far from immune to Nick’s innate sexuality or his damned irreverent charm. She even fantasized about feeling his work-roughened hands on all parts of her body, but she never for a minute considered the fact that she’d been involved with someone other than her husband, other than in a fantasy. Oh, God, what kind of woman was she? Clearing her throat, she picked at a button on her coat, then inched up her chin and pinned her husband with her gaze. “Men? Plural?”
“Yes.”
“You’re trying to tell me that I’ve taken lovers,” she whispered, disbelieving. No way. But then her feelings toward Nick were impossible to deny and she knew somewhere in that most innately feminine part of her that she was a sensual creature. A passionate woman. Yet someone who slept alone. Or so it appeared.
“Okay, I won’t tell you anything of the kind.”
“But . . .” she prodded.
“You asked, Marla,” he said angrily.
She felt a flush flame up her neck. “Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He took a corner a little too sharply. The tires chirped.
“Like hell it doesn’t,” she said angrily, her frayed nerves finally giving way.
“Let’s not go into it now. It was quite a while ago.” Alex fiddled with the radio, found a soft-rock station.
Marla snapped the damned thing off. “Then what about . . . what about James?” she asked, needing to know the truth. “Is he . . . is he . . .”
“Mine. James is mine.” He slid her a glance and offered a tight smile. She felt more confused than ever.
“But, how—?”
“See what happens when you have too many gin and tonics?” His smile crept slowly from one side of his jaw to the other as if he somehow felt victorious. His laugh was just as vile, and she told herself she was imagining things. Overwrought. Drained.