All or Nothing

That she was restless now equaled progress. It was already past 2:00 a.m.

He shut down the file and switched to a computer game, still keeping his back to her.

“Conrad?” Her husky voice stoked his frustration higher, hotter. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Business.” The screen flashed with a burst of gunfire as his avatar fought back an ambush in Alpha Realms IV.

She laughed softly, stepping farther onto the balcony silently other than the swoosh of her silky robe against her legs. “So I see. New toy from your pal Troy Donavan?”

Conrad had the inside track on video games since a fellow felonious high school bud of his now ran a lucrative computer software corporation. “It’s my downtime, and I don’t even have to leave town. Did you need something?”

“I was getting a glass of water, and I saw you’re still awake. You always were a night owl.”

More than once she’d walked up behind him, slid her arms around his neck and offered to help him relax with a massage that always led to more.

“Feel free to have a seat.” He guided his avatar around a corner in dystopian city ruins. “But I can’t promise to be much of a conversationalist.”

“Keep playing your game.”

“Hmm …” Alpha Realms provided a safe distraction from the peripheral view of Jayne sliding onto the lounger. The way the silky robe clung to her shower-damp skin, she could have been naked.

Her legs crossed at the ankles, her fuzzy slippers dangling from her toes. “Why do you keep working when you could clearly retire?”

Because his fast-paced, wealthy lifestyle provided the perfect cover for him to move in the circles necessary to bring down crooks like Zhutov. “You knew I lived at the office when you married me.”

“I was like any woman crazy in love.” She cupped a water glass between her hands. “I deluded myself into believing I could change you.”

He hadn’t expected her to concede anything, much less that. He set aside his tablet, on top of those damn divorce papers. “I remember the first time I saw you.”

The patio sconce highlighted her smile. “You were one of the crankiest, most uncooperative emergency room patients I’d ever met.”

He’d been in Miami following up on a lead for Salvatore. Nothing hairy, just chasing a paper trail. He would have been back in Monte Carlo by morning, except a baggage handler at the airport dropped an overweight case on Conrad’s foot. Unable to bear weight on it even when he’d tried to grit through the pain, he’d ended up in the E.R. rather than on his charter jet. And he’d still protested the entire way.

Although his mood had taken a turn for the better once the head nurse on the night shift stepped into the waiting room to find out why he’d sent everyone else running. “I’m surprised you spoke to me after what an uncooperative bastard I was.”

“I still can’t believe you insisted you just wanted a walking boot, that you had an important meeting you couldn’t miss because of what you called a stubbed toe.”

“Yeah, not my shining moment.”

“Smart move sending flowers to the staff members you pissed off.” She scratched the corner of her mouth with her pinky. “I don’t believe I ever told you, but I thought they were for me when they arrived.”

“I wanted to win you over. Apologizing to your coworkers seemed the wisest course to take.” He’d extended his stay in Miami under the guise of looking into investment property.

They’d eloped three months later, in a simple ocean-side ceremony with a couple of his alumni buddies as witnesses.

Jayne sipped her water, her eyes unblinking as if she might be holding back tears. “So this is really it for us.”

“Nice to know this isn’t any easier for you than it is for me.”

Her hand shook as she set aside her glass. “Of course this isn’t easy for me. But I want it to be done. I want to move past this and be happy again.”

Damn, it really got under his skin that he still hurt her even after all this time apart.

“I’m sorry you’re unhappy.” Back when, he would have moved heaven and earth to give her what she wanted. Now it appeared all he could give her was a divorce.

“Do you really mean that?” She swung her feet to the side, sitting on the edge of the lounger. “Or is that why you held off signing the papers for so long? So you could see me squirm?”

“Honest to God, Jayne, I just want both of us to be happy, and if that means moving on, then okay.” Although she looked so damn right beside him, back in his life again. He would be haunted by the vision of her there for a long time to come. “But right now, neither of us seems to be having much luck with the concept of a clean break.”

“What are you saying?”

Persuading her would take a lot more savvy than sending a few dozen roses to her friends. “I think we need to take a couple of days to find that middle ground, peace or closure or whatever the hell therapists are calling it lately.”

“We’ve been married for seven years.” She fished into the pocket of her robe and pulled out her engagement ring and wedding band set. “How do you expect to find closure in two days when we’ve been trying for the last three years?”

He did not want to see those damn rings again. Not unless they were sitting where he’d put them—on her finger.

“Has ignoring each other worked for you? Because even living an ocean apart hasn’t gone so well for me.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.” Her fingers closed around the rings. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

He sensed victory within his sights. She was coming around to his way of thinking. But he had to be sure because if he miscalculated and moved too soon he could risk sending her running.

“I suggest we spend a simple night out together, no pressure. My old high school buddy Malcolm Douglas is performing nearby—in the Côte d’Azur—tomorrow night. I have tickets. Go with me.”

“What if I say no?”

Not an option. He played his trump card. “Do you want my signature on those divorce papers?”

She dropped her rings on top of the computer that just happened to be resting over the divorce papers. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“Call it a trade.” He rested his hand over the five-carat diamond he’d chosen for her, only her. “You give me two days and I’ll give you the divorce papers. Signed.”

“Just two days?” She studied him through narrowed, suspicious eyes.

He gathered up the rings and pressed them to her palm, closing her fingers over them again. “Forty-eight hours.”

Forty-eight hours to romance her back into his bed one last time.

Three

Gasping, Jayne sat upright in bed, jolted out of a deep sleep by … sunlight?

Bold morning rays streamed through the part in the curtains. Late morning, not a sunrise. She looked at the bedside clock: 10:32 a.m.? Shoving her tangled hair aside, she blinked and the time stayed the same.

Then changed to 10:33.

She never overslept and she never had trouble with jet lag, thanks to her early years in nursing working odd shifts in the emergency room. Except last night she’d had trouble falling asleep even after a long bubble bath. Restless, she’d been foolish enough to dance with temptation by talking to Conrad on a moonlit Mediterranean night.