Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2) (33 page)

A harsh intake of breath was all Ragno gave him.

“Well?”

“I’ve seen no indication of that, but we haven’t done a Black Raven profile on him. Still, that would have come out in the election.”

“If he ever came out of the closet, yes. But not if he hasn’t.”

“Who doesn’t these days? Besides, he could have used that fact to his advantage with the electorate in his district.”

Turning, glancing at the two of them, deep in avid conversation, he added, “Some people value privacy. Maybe he’s one. Plus, who knows how his family would have reacted? You said that McDougall and Sam talk to each other like best friends. They look like friends. Best buddies. He hasn’t kissed her yet. I mean really kissed her. Lips to cheek don’t count. And, according to her, they’re planning on having an open marriage. Discreet, but open.”

“So? Some couples look like friends. And some people do have open marriages. Doesn’t mean he’s gay.”

“What kind of man chooses a tapas restaurant?”

“Oh, come on, Zeus. Really? Plenty of men who aren’t gay.”

“I fucking hate tapas.”

“Men who are college friends with chefs who open tapas restaurants.”

“Chef Diego, his good friend, is gay.”

“So? You have gay friends. We have a Black Raven partner and agents who are gay.”

“McDougall met her at the restaurant.”

“Your point?”

“He hasn’t seen her in at least a week. If I flew across the ocean to see Sam and hadn’t seen her for a week, we might be doing dinner together, but it would be in bed.”

“Jesus, Zeus. You really do have the mentality of a horny sixteen-year-old—”

“Only with her.”

“I know that. Which is why I don’t think you should be there tonight. About him meeting her at the restaurant, not everyone has your testosterone-driven view of the world.” She paused. “But, okay, I’ll run with it for a moment. Let me do some digging.”

“Careful. He’s a senator. One day we’ll need his vote on a damn big hiring contract. Or something.”

“If he were trying to hide something, or even just not make something public, it would have come out. His race was hotly contested.”

“Maybe he’s never acted on it. There could be all kinds of reasons why he’d enter into a beard marriage. The marriage could be a mask for being gay.”

“Which means you’ll never have a sure answer. Unless one of them admits it to you. Pretty damn doubtful she’ll tell you, since she hasn’t told you yet…and I doubt he’ll be confiding in you.”

Glancing directly at Sam, he saw that her eyes were glittering with unshed tears. The full smile on her face as she held Justin’s gaze told him it wasn’t the kind of tears she shed with him.

These are happy tears, asshole. The kind you don’t see from her.

McDougall slid closer to her, lifted her chin in the crook of his finger, and Zeus didn’t need to be able to hear the words the man said. The words
I love you
only looked one way on a man’s lips, and the first real kiss that McDougall gave her was a solid, on-the-lips—
aw fuck—
steady kiss.

Not the kind of get-a-room kiss Zeus liked to give her, but then again, Zeus wasn’t doing that kind of stuff in public with her either. At least not now. Not on the job, not when she was the girlfriend of a public figure. Not when she admitted to no one—not even herself—that anything was going on with Zeus.

“Never mind,” he muttered.

“Wishful thinking ran away with you?”

“Guess so.”

“Even if their marriage is a beard. Even if they have no sexual relationship at all. Where does that get you?”

McDougall placed a black velvet box in her hand. Ragno’s words went to background noise, as his heart lifted into his throat. Sam’s gaze slid to Zeus. She shifted her body, turning her shoulders to McDougall, facing him.

“She’s still planning on marrying him one day,” Ragno was saying, when he could focus. “If you haven’t managed to make her change her mind yet, I’m not sure you’ll be able to. You’ll have to shake her off, Zeus.”

“Hard to do when my eyes are on her. And fuck—I’ve now got a front row seat to his goddamn proposal.”

“What?”

“She’s opening a ring box.”

“Oh hell. And?” Ragno fell silent.

“And fucking what?”

With a slight nod of her head, he knew the woman of his dreams was lost to him forever. The part of his heart that had feelings died a sudden death.

“Is she saying yes?”

“Of course she is. Told me she would the other morning, when we woke up together.” His sarcastic words tasted bitter. She might be having a goddamn open marriage, but he wasn’t going to be a part of it. He wasn’t going to beg for fucking leftovers like a starving dog.

Done. D-O-N-E.

“Oh, Zeus. I’m sorry. Call Jenkins. Give him the Raven’s view.”

“Nope,” he muttered. In his peripheral vision he watched McDougall lean in for another goddamn kiss.

Jesus H. Christ. Just go get a fucking room.

“I’ll stick it out. I’m embracing the suck, and there’s a hell of a lot of it.”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

He squared his shoulders, leaned his upper back against the wall, and lifted his right leg so that the bottom of his foot was pressed into it. Resting his body almost comfortably, while his chest felt like someone had reached in with a meat hook and was tearing at his heart, he said, “Well, since you’re with me for the long haul, let’s work.”

“Awesome. Bounty hunt, security detail, or do you want to work on email?”

“Insurance. But first, return to the live mic.” Zeus glanced to the front door. “Jenkins? Anything?”

“Clear. Normal busy sidewalk. Beautiful people everywhere. I’m turning away diners who were hoping for tapas tonight.”

“Deal? What are you seeing?”

“Nothing to worry about. Diego’s cooking. Otherwise, kitchen’s clear.”

“Good. I’m talking with Ragno about insurance. Break in with three-minute updates. More frequently if needed. Ragno—I’ve narrowed down the insurance contenders to Sullivans of New York and International Underwriters.” The Black Raven insurance project he’d been working on was tedious and time-consuming. He wanted to formulate an answer for his partners by the end of the week. Options were self-insurance, Sullivans of New York, or International Underwriters.

“I thought Sullivans was out because they refused to negotiate coverage without including their clause for business interruption due to terrorism in the overall contract?”

“They’re giving me a pretty good overall quote, though, so I want to analyze the advantages of their liability coverage over the liability coverage provided by International Underwriters. On another note, though, I’m wondering how Sullivans gets away with forcing people to buy the terrorism coverage.”

“They’re making a hell of a lot of money off the terrorism clause,” Ragno answered. “Given the fact that every country in the civilized world is operating at the highest threat level right now, most businesses are asking for terrorism coverage. Our business is thriving, but, for example—the cruise ship industry. Ever since the Miami cruise ship bombing last year, the one the ITT is examining, that industry is in the toilet. Those companies are probably happy to pay Sullivan’s top-dollar rates for the terrorism clause.”

“I’ve studied the clause, though. Backwards and forwards and I’ve gotten our lawyers to look at it. That would be one hard claim to make them pay on. The way the clause is written, Sullivans isn’t going to have to do many payouts.” Zeus was quiet for a second. Thinking, as he stared straight ahead, at the front door. He’d seen enough to know that his ability to see details through his peripheral vision shouldn’t be used to see Sam and McDougall. “Ragno, when you next have a few spare minutes—”

“Like that ever happens.”

“Then delegate, preferably to someone with clearance for Jigsaw.”

“Well, that means me, you, Barrows, and Sebastian. Most of the analysts who are working on the project only know pieces and parts. Few know the totality. Gabe has slivers of it. Enough to know that it is highly sensitive information and for once, he’s not pushing me for details.”

“Keep it that way. You decide who gets the project. I want to figure out if we can learn the names of the secret partners in Sullivans, and stakeholders in the insurance companies that offer this coverage against terrorist threats. Mostly because I want to know who we’re dealing with. I don’t believe in silent partner bullshit.”

“Why give this to someone with clearance for Jigsaw?”

“Because the clause spells terrorism, and when terrorism is involved there is an off-chance it may produce puzzle pieces to throw into the mix.”

“Understood, but finding their identities will be near to impossible. In Sullivan’s case, they’ve been in business for over 200 years, and the secret partners are always secret. It’s part of their charter. These old companies are all like that. A few partners are public faces. Others operate in the background. Identities are closely guarded secrets. More is known about the identities of the Masons than the secret partners in these international insurance conglomerates.

“Well, when you have time, start trying to figure out who they are. For now, for my insurance project for Black Raven, just do a comparison of terms of coverage. Focus on liability. Incorporate what our lawyers have done.” Dammit, but the rock McDougall put on Sam’s finger sparkled as much as the chandeliers, and as much as he willed himself not to see it, he couldn’t fight the glare. “While you’re working, I want to hear the words, sentence by sentence, in plain English.”

“I’ll do a flow chart.” He could hear her fingers clacking on her keyboard, attacking the new project with gusto. “With a line by line comparison. I’ll have it ready by the time you’re standing outside Senator McDougall’s hotel room. You’ll at least have a project to sink your mind into.”

“Great, but while you’re working on that, read to me what you’re doing.”

Her pause was long and extended.

“Ragno?”

“You want me to read insurance provisions to you? Really?”

“Absolutely,” he said, eyes on the door.

“I love you, but I’ve got things to do. I’ll have Sally read to you. Good enough?”

“Fine.” He welcomed, for the next three hours, the mind-numbing exercise of focusing on insurance provisions and clauses. With each word, he tried to block the fucking kaleidoscope of sparkling, colorful happiness presented by McDougall and Sam as they shared tapas, one small, exquisite plateful at a time.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chef Diego softly kissed her cheek before stepping away from the table. Samantha drew a deep breath, sipped a bit more champagne, and tried to look anywhere but at Zeus.

“Damn. I haven’t eaten anything yet, but the champagne isn’t making my stomach happy. I’ve already got heartburn. Did you bring antacids?”

“Yeah. Knew you’d need them tonight.”

He slipped a roll from his pocket and passed it under the tablecloth into her lap. He was so good this way. Always prepared.

“Samantha.” Justin’s voice was low. “Look at me.”

The concern in his dark blue eyes almost made her choke. His face wavered as her eyes filled with unwanted tears. She plastered a smile on her face. Without a funny thought in her head, she made herself laugh. At nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Justin arched an eyebrow and frowned. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Why are you going through with this?”

“Because we agreed we would do this. Our plan makes sense, for both of us. He’s just a speed bump and I’m damn well not going to let him become a detour that ends badly.” She made herself giggle again as she forced herself to focus on Justin’s beautiful eyes. Reaching for his hand, she held on for dear life.

“All right, I might be able to handle your fake smile, but not that fake laugh, and definitely not that giggle. You don’t giggle. I can’t take it. Stop it, and tell me why you’re insisting on this preemptive strike now?”

Reaching for the champagne flute, she took a sip, and whispered. “I don’t want to talk about the reasons. Let’s just do this, and move on.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Will you even be able to eat at all? Diego will send us a taste of everything, and I can’t eat it all by myself. We could leave. Say one of us has come down with a sudden something.”

Yes, like Zeus disease. I believe it’s fatal.

“I’ll make myself eat.” Without allowing her gaze to rest on Zeus, who was either talking to himself or had Ragno in his ear, she took another sip of champagne. “I’d hate to disappoint Diego.”

Justin studied her for a long second. “You look like you’ve lost five pounds in the last week.”

“I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

She watched Justin’s eyes slide over to Zeus, who’d walked further away from their table. “Jesus. Oh shit—that is his full name, isn’t it? Anyway, he’s built better than the guys on my brother’s offensive line. I certainly wouldn’t pick a fight with him.”

“Don’t talk about him.”

“Seriously? Although you two are doing a damn good job of not looking at each other, he is the overpowering Greek God in the room, commanding more attention than any elephant I’ve ever come across. How could I not talk about him? Why are you doing this?”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course.”

“Then don’t ask why. You know why our arrangement is better for both of us. Just give me the ring and kiss me.”

“No.” With concern flooding his eyes, he shifted closer to her. “I couldn’t imagine a woman less happy about receiving four carats of brilliant, emerald-cut diamond perfection. You’re not acting like yourself. Not at all. Tell me why you’re going through with this.”

“I’m sorry, Justin.” He was right. She didn’t really care what the ring looked like, and she was mortified that she didn’t really want to see it on her finger. They’d planned the details of their bands, and had selected the stone for the engagement ring months earlier. One option could have been for her to wear her mother’s diamond. She’d rejected that idea the minute it came to her, because there was no need to remember that tragic marriage. “Let’s do it. We’ve been through this.”

“Not this week. Not in detail. Not in person since you and”—he glanced at Zeus, lowered his voice—“tall, dark, brooding and handsome have had your reunion.”

“Not a reunion,” she whispered, careful to keep her smile on her face. “Just recreational sex.”

Which she and Justin both expected the other to have. They’d use utmost discretion, of course. It was the only way their marriage would work.

Justin gave her a slow, knowing headshake. As he studied her, she knew she really couldn’t act as though the sex hadn’t been anything special. As though Zeus didn’t make her feel better than anyone had ever made her feel. As though he didn’t make her feel positively treasured and cherished each time his hands touched her. As though he didn’t fit inside of her with a feeling of fulfillment that didn’t come with anyone else. Sensations with him were so unique, each time he stroked into her, the last few nights had convinced her that her body had been built for him, and him alone.

“Recreational sex,” she repeated. “It means nothing.”

Justin’s full frown was deep. “You’re only fooling one of us, and it isn’t me.”

Eyes filling with more tears that she would not spill, because Zeus had given her that same line only a few days ago, she threw her head back and laughed. If she started crying now she was going to dissolve into a miserable heap, and Zeus, the man she wanted to pick her up off the floor, was not Justin, the only man who she’d allow to pick her up.

After a few deep breaths, she found some composure. “I love you,” she whispered, wondering why those words flowed so easily with Justin, when what she felt for him wasn’t anything like what she felt for Zeus. “I can’t thank you enough for putting up with this.”

“We’ll have to put up with a lot more over the next fifty or so years, assuming we still do this. I’m not sure we should. Seeing you now, I don’t think you can handle what we’re setting ourselves up for, and I’m not sure you should—”

“This is only hard for me because of the past I have with him. It makes him the perfect storm, because I was weaker when I first fell in love with him.”

“When you first fell in love with him.” Justin arched an eyebrow and gave her a slow headshake. “Do you realize what you just said? Meaning you’re in love with him now.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Lie to yourself, Samantha. Not to me.”

“What I feel for him emotionally doesn’t matter. Reason and logic will rule my life. Not my heart. He’ll be my biggest test. There won’t be others like him. I won’t put you through this kind of drama again. I promise.”

Because no one else will make me so aware that I’m turning my back on my last hope for a normal, full life. No one else will make me miss that woman I once was. The naïve woman who allowed herself to think a man like him could make her a better person.

“Honey, it isn’t me I’m worried about, and you know I’d walk over coals for you.”

Sipping more of the champagne, she found courage in the bubbles. At least it made her voice stronger. “I’m going to be fine. Really. Give me the box and a kiss. A real kiss. Like you mean it.”

Justin shook his head. “You deserve more.”

“And so do you.”

“Which means we’re both settling for something less than ideal.”

“And we’ve been through this a million times. We’re both going to come out ahead.”

“Once I get past that fake smile of yours, you’re looking so heartbroken I’m dying for you. Those aren’t tears of happiness in your eyes, and I’m sitting close enough to you to know it. He isn’t though, and he looks like—”

“He always looks like that.”

“Seriously?” Justin took a sip of champagne as he let his gaze sweep the restaurant, then rest on Zeus. “That impenetrable-looking barrier he throws out to the world isn’t fake? He walks around like that, without a trace of emotion?”

“You just have to watch him. Closely. Sometimes there’s the faintest hint of a smile, or a frown, but mostly, he’s intense. Always calm. Strong. Stoic. He is a rock, when underneath—”

“Come on, Samantha, listen to yourself describe him.”

“How?”

“You love him. Really love him. Old-fashioned, life mate kind of love. You two should be together. For better or worse, regardless of what it does to your career path or your ambitions. Can’t you just face that fact?”

“I’ve faced it. The other night, when I thought he was going to die, fear and abject misery hit me with a certainty that I’ll never forget. It’s the exact kind of love my mother felt for my father. The all-consuming, horrific kind of love that would eat away at me, bit by bit, and destroy me.” She drew a deep breath. “Like my mother’s love for my father destroyed her.”

“But you can’t just will it away.”

“Oh, yes, I can. I sure as hell don’t know why I feel like I need to tell him I’m sorry. To tell him all the reasons why I can’t go there.”

Justin shook his head. “The fact that you feel like you need to apologize—”

“I didn’t say I was going to.”

“You really should have that discussion with him.”

She shook her head. “Too painful. I’m not going there, Justin. If you’re truly my dearest friend, give me the ring, kiss me, let’s eat, and we’ll go to your hotel room. Each step will take me further away from weakness. I need to do this.”

Justin lifted her chin with his finger, drawing her gaze and holding it. “You sure?”

She nodded, “I need to get my equilibrium back. Please. This is the most important thing I’ve ever asked of you. Let’s do this, and let’s make it look good. Like there’s more to us than a friendship.”

“I love you, Samantha Dixon Fairfax.” He bent his head to hers. Their lips touched and lingered together, long enough for Samantha to confirm that kissing her best friend was nothing like kissing Zeus.

Justin reached into the pocket of his sports coat, and pulled out a black velvet box. Her glance accidentally went to Zeus. Their eyes met for a split second. His hard gaze sent shivers down her spine. She turned her shoulders, focused on Justin, and tried to look happy.

“My best friend, my future wife, my partner and architect of the beautiful life we’ll have, full of ambitions and goals we’ll meet, will you marry me?”

She drew a deep breath, opening the black velvet box, as the right words, from the wrong man, and the fiery diamond engagement ring, from the wrong hands, sliced through the heart that beat normally for others, but erratically and hopelessly for Zeus. As Justin again closed his lips on hers, she mentally put the first shovelful of dirt on the coffin of the woman who was in love with Zeus Hernandez.