The drive to Milo’s Earl’s Terrace home in Kensington was done in silence. Once again, each person was knee deep in private thoughts. Sasha stole a glance across the compact space. Pierce’s whole body was practically turned toward the passenger window. His expression—at least what she could see from the side—was pensive.
Pierce might talk a good game, but Sasha had witnessed several instances where he had let something slip that made her wonder if she wasn’t the only one dealing with a troubled past. Had an incident occurred in his life that had left an open wound? That would explain his cockiness and overly narcissistic behavior when she first met him. Since then, he’d mellowed considerably, but still thought he was God’s gift…even if on a more minute scale.
That last thought made her smile. Pierce Deveraux would always consider himself a force with which to be reckoned, and from what Sasha could see, most people agreed.
While she was driving, she replayed their last discussion in her head. Pierce was right about her. It made no sense to get angry over the things he’d remarked on, especially when all of them were true. She had an affair with a married man, and if she hadn’t overheard Milo’s conversation, and if he had not made such incredible demands of her, she still would be.
Her stomach clenched with uneasiness. She tightened her grip on the wheel in hopes of easing some of the pressure she was feeling.
“You were right,” she whispered in a barely audible voice. Her eyes never left the road in front of her. “It is completely ridiculous for me to get so offended by the truth. I’m sorry I yelled at you, Pierce. I had no right.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sasha she saw him finally turn her way.
“It’s cool,” he replied. His voice was deep and calm. “We both got carried away.”
She glanced over briefly. “Pierce…I know something is bothering you—other than me,” she added with a smile. “Do you want to talk about it? Apparently, I’m much better at listening to other people’s problems than solving my own.”
He remained quiet. She didn’t push.
A few minutes later, Sasha eased the car in at the curb and parked. She turned sideways in her seat. Pierce was still checking out the house. He whistled.
“Very nice.”
“Yep. Five thousand square feet of luxury with all the trimmings.”
Pierce’s gaze raked over the opulent home. “So I see.” He also turned in his seat. “Take a deep breath and relax. Time to go handle your business with your millionaire.”
“He’s not my millionaire,” she retorted.
Pierce smiled, but refrained from pointing out that she had corrected him again.
“I’ll be here when you get back.”
They stared at each other a moment before she turned away. Unsnapping her seatbelt, Sasha opened the door and got out. “Okay. Back in a minute.”
Sasha made it to the front of the car before she halted. He watched her stand there a few seconds before her head turned toward the windshield. His calm gaze connected with her nervous one. Pierce pointed toward the door and gave her a firm nod.
Before she’d past the car, Pierce rapped on the windshield. When he held her gaze, he mouthed, “You’ll be fine.”
Sasha smiled and reluctantly resumed walking. She ascended the stone stairs, but her hand wavered at the large doorknocker. She followed Pierce’s advice and took a deep breath. When she was done, she knocked.
No worries. This will be over soon, she told herself.
The door swung open, and a man appeared.
Sasha gasped. “You,” she choked out. “What are you doing here?”
The man she and Pierce had met at breakfast, the one who stopped them to get autographs and talk about how his wife was such a big fan, was standing there in front of her, as if nothing was amiss.
“Jeffrey Paisley-Smythe at your service. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Lambert. If you would be so kind as to follow me.”
The door suddenly closed behind Sasha, causing her to jump. Warily, she followed who she now assumed was one of Milo’s new employees. His duplicity earlier made her berate herself for deciding to come. Sasha’s fists balled up at her sides, and she took pleasure in hurling imaginary daggers at the back of Jeffrey Paisley-Smythe every step of the way.
“So why the big ruse? Why pretend to be a fan? Did Milo put you up to spying on me?” She grabbed his arm before jumping in front of him. She leaned forward and glared at him. “Do you even have a wife?” she demanded.
“Yes, Miss Lambert, I do, and she thinks your book is brilliant.”
He stepped around her to continue down the hallway. She automatically fell into step beside him, but then skidded to a halt. “What’s this all about? I’m not going another inch until you tell me why the cloak-and-dagger routine was necessary.”
“I assure you, everything will be explained to your satisfaction momentarily, Miss Lambert.”
Sasha grunted at that. “Like I’d ever believe anything else you have to say.”
They rounded the corner, and he escorted her into the drawing room. She’d never been here before, but she wasn’t surprised to find it was as elegantly appointed as any of Milo’s other residences. Light flooded in from the opened French doors. Sasha gazed out onto a terrace. She couldn’t see them, but she knew past that would be lush gardens. Milo loved gardens.
Sasha took one last moment to glare at him before she sailed past Jeffrey and into the room. It was only then that Sasha realized she wasn’t alone. A woman stood from her seat in an alcove and advanced. All the color drained from Sasha’s face. Though she’d never met her, there was no mistaking who she was.
“Mrs. Georgopoulos.”
“Hello, Miss Lambert. I’d wager I’m the last person you expected to see.”
It took considerable effort, but eventually Sasha recovered from the shock. “The absolute last person,” she agreed, staring at Milo’s wife. “I thought I was here to—”
“Yes, that’s how I wanted it. I had to ensure you would come. My husband is not in residence, but please sit down—” Andromeda waved her hand to the couch— “and I’ll tell you why you’re here.”
Not one for games, Sasha was angry at being duped twice now. Still, she followed the older woman to the plush couch and took a seat. She didn’t get comfortable.
Andromeda gracefully lowered herself into the same chair she’d occupied when Sasha arrived. Her legs crossed, she leaned back casually as if she had all the time in the world.
She studied Sasha. “You know, I always wondered how I would feel when we met. Make no mistake, I had every intention of meeting my husband’s lover.”
“Ex-lover,” Sasha corrected automatically.
“So I’ve heard. Still, you must have been extraordinary for him to stay with you so long. In fact, I asked Milo what made you so…enchanting and why he hadn’t tired of you sooner. He has such a short attention span, you know, and his criteria for lovers is much different from mine.”
Sasha was startled. “The two of you discussed—”
“Naturally.” She laughed. “There isn’t anything that goes on in my family that I don’t know about, Miss Lambert. I make it my business to keep current on my husband’s infidelities. I find it’s better that way. I don’t like surprises, and this ensures that I’m always prepared.”
“If you know about me, then you must be aware that Milo explained his marital status… somewhat differently.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t surprise me, but I assure you that our marriage is very solid. I’m not going anywhere, and neither is my husband.”
Sasha had heard enough. She stood. “I can’t say this has been a pleasure, but—”
“Please, hear me out.”
“And why should I do that?”
“I would think that given your association with my husband, it’s the least you can do.”
With reluctance, Sasha sat down again. No matter what, in five minutes, she was out of there.
“Why do you deal with it?” The question was out before Sasha could stop it.
Andromeda’s smile was genuine. “That question is easy. I’m not in love with Milo—at least not in the dreamy, romantic way people gush about. Ours was an arranged marriage. Our families have known each other since before we were born. Milo’s family wasn’t as wealthy as mine, but their lineage was enough for my status-conscious father to approve. After we had children to ensure the Georgopoulos line continued, we settled into our current arrangement. Milo has his dalliances, and I have mine. I do care about him, but I don’t care who he beds so long as he doesn’t make a spectacle of my family. Nothing is more important than securing my children’s future. Milo had a vasectomy years ago, so I don’t worry on that score. There will be no bastard children to threaten Paris and Calandra’s inheritance.”
Sasha shifted. That last bit of news had taken her by surprise. Andromeda latched on to her discomfort.
“The news about Milo being sterile was a surprise?” Her smile was overly sweet. “How interesting.”
Sasha feigned indifference. “It doesn’t matter. I could care less.”
“Your expression tells a different story.”
“Don’t mistake surprise for disappointment,” Sasha responded coolly. “It appears you’ve got everything well in hand, so why am I here?”
“As I indicated, I need your assistance. My husband’s current plaything is causing quite a stir. Surely you’ve read about it.”
“No, I haven’t, but then I’ve been rather busy lately.”
“It appears there’s so much he neglected to tell you.”
Sasha ignored the barb.
“I heard you’ve become a bestselling author—the crux of Milo’s discontent.” Andromeda chuckled. “My husband can’t stand not being the center of everyone’s universe, but I’m sure you knew that.”
“Is there a point to all this?”
“The point,” Andromeda stressed, “is that I want you back.”
Sasha’s mouth gaped open. The color drained from her face. After a moment, she sat forward in her seat. “Excuse me?”
“This new Frenchwoman he’s bedding is intolerable,” Andromeda said, huffing and losing some of her composure. “Not only has she been fool enough to believe my husband’s promises of fidelity, she’s fallen in love with the paparazzi and doesn’t hesitate to throw herself at every camera within fifty yards—pictures of them are in every tabloid from here to Paris by now. The tart actually had the audacity to say they would be engaged before the year was out.” All pretenses of a calm demeanor faded. Andromeda’s slightly wrinkled face contorted with rage. “This I will not allow, and divorce is out of the question. I will not subject my children to a broken home,” she said disdainfully.
Sasha’s eyes widened. “You don’t consider it broken now?”
“Why should I?” Andromeda scoffed. “Before this…this…woman came along, my household and my husband were perfectly manageable.”
Sasha was incredulous. “Because he was with me?”
“You didn’t crave the limelight. You’re very private and predictable, Sasha Lambert.” She laughed. “Those traits work to my advantage. It allows me to keep my private life my own with no demands from Milo, and that’s exactly how I want it. Too bad my husband couldn’t see the forest for the trees,” she said, sneering.
Sasha stood. “Mrs. Georgopoulos, I’m very sorry for any pain I’ve caused you and your family.” Sasha frowned with regret. “I was under the impression that things were different and that—”
“Yes, I know. I’m not surprised he lied to you, Sasha, but a divorce will never happen as long as I draw breath,” Andromeda promised.
“I can see that, but I can’t help you.”
“Can’t?” she sputtered. “Nonsense. There’s a cost for everything. Clearly I haven’t hit your price point yet. Let me be clear: If you help me get rid of Milo’s latest toy, I will make you a very rich woman.”
“I’m not for sale.”
“Really?” Andromeda reared back. Her laugh was melodic. “Since when?”
“This conversation is over.”
When Sasha turned to walk away, Andromeda rushed over and forcibly yanked her back around. All pretense at civility was gone.
“We aren’t through. Don’t be foolish without truly understanding what I’m offering you. I know you’re still in love with my husband. Why break your heart over a thing as irrational as pride? You will tell him that you’ve changed your mind, that this book career of yours is over, and that leaving him was a mistake.”
Sasha’s eyebrows flew upward. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Sure it will. I’m giving you the chance to keep what you desire most, Sasha—Milo. And in return, I’ll get what I want...that delusional trollop of his gone.”
Sasha wrenched her arm out from Andromeda’s grasp.
“I don’t want your husband anymore. It was over the moment his deceit became clear.”
“Oh please. Everyone’s deceitful at one point or another,” she said dismissively. Suddenly, Andromeda’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t really be that naïve, can you?”
Sasha stiffened. “You’re the one that’s naïve if you think there’s any way I’d ever take Milo back—no matter what the circumstances or the number of dollars you wave in front of me. The spell’s been broken, and I have both of you to thank for that. When I found out he lied to me and that the two of you weren’t estranged, I felt nothing but remorse for my part in his being unfaithful to you.”
“Save your pity,” Andromeda snapped. “Everything I do is by design. His involvement with you was no exception.”
“Clearly I underestimated his machinations—and yours. You know, the two of you are well suited. Everyone else’s needs pale in comparison to your own.”
Sasha was almost at the door when Andromeda’s cold voice stopped her.
“Someone should have warned you about throwing stones at glass houses when you live in one, Miss Lambert. You knowingly had an affair with a married man, and you think to lecture me?”
Sasha turned around. She was unable to keep the pain out of her voice, or her body from shaking with anger. “You’re right, Andromeda. It is my fault for believing what Milo told me was true—that the two of you were estranged and that his marriage was over. Trust me, it’s not a mistake I plan to repeat.”
“I’d reconsider my offer if I were you. Up until now, I’ve been very accommodating, but I make one formidable enemy. If you don’t give me what I want, a box full of dead scorpions will be the least of your worries.”