Page 28 of Savage Romance
No, not asked. He should have demanded an explanation.
He might not have known Zoe long, but he knew her core. She wasn’t like her brother. At least, he thought she wasn’t. Which meant she must have had a reason for her deceit, evasiveness… whatever it had been.
Releasing the breath he was holding, Ben rolled his shoulders and pushed away from the kitchen counter. This navel-gazing wasn’t going to do him any favors though, and he was done with moping.
With slow, deliberate steps, he went up the stairs and into the bedroom. He stared at the bed he’d shared with her. The pretty quilt at the foot of the bed added a splash of color to his otherwise minimalistic and stark white beddings. It livened up the room, almost in the exact same way Zoe added a sparkle to his life.
Why had she never talked with him? Was he such an ogre that she couldn’t confide in him? Hadn’t she trusted him? Avoiding the bathroom and his memories of the awesome shower sex after he’d rescued the swan, he went into the walk-in closet. But there wasn’t any avoiding Zoe there either. She was everywhere in his home. Having touched every single inch, without being invasive or intrusive she had done little things to make his life more.... enjoyable. She’d cared for him and taken care of him, and he returned her affection. With a clarity like a sunbeam piercing through the rainclouds, the realization hit him. I love her.
Blinking, Ben gripped the overhead doorjamb and waited for the panic to strike. Nothing happened. His heartbeat stayed calm and steady. A peacefulness with the acceptance of the inevitable floated through his system, washing away the tension and stress. Now that he accepted the fact he, Benjamin Dennehy, had fallen in love with his wife, what was he going to do about that?
I’m not going to accept living my life without the woman I love—not without a fight, at least.
Ben was a man of action and act he would. He would find his woman and they would have an honest and open conversation. He could not prevent Zoe from wanting nothing to do with him after the appalling way he’d reacted, but he could try to explain. And hope for the best.
Firming his jaw, he pulled up his contacts and punched in Byron’s number. He curled his hand around the mobile device as he waited for his friend to answer. Without bothering with a greeting, he spoke into the mic, “Can you give me the contact detail for that PI?” He barely recognized the gruff tone of his own voice.
Even through the phone, Ben could sense Byron’s amusement. “You’re done moping around and being angry?”
Ben massaged the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to be an asshole or are you going to help me?”
“However much I would like to torment you, I need my partner in fighting form. I’ll forward you the details for Derrick Maddox. I’ve used him a couple of times. He’s efficient and discrete.”
They ended the call after Ben promised to bring Zoe over for dinner once they reconciled. As if it were a given that Ben could. Ben’s phone dinged with an incoming message.
No reason to put things off. He saved the PI’s details to his contacts list and dialed the number.
Chapter Twenty-One
Five fucking days.
Ben stomped through the sliding doors and into the hotel foyer. Almost a week after the epic blow-up, Zoe had vanished. Disappeared. Yes, yes, I told her to get lost. But...
It was nothing like his fierce lioness to leave without a fight.
He glanced around. Things still ran without a hitch. Zoe had trained the staff well, but it seemed like the happiness had left the hotel with its manager. Anna, one of the newer and younger employees at the reception desk smiled when she spotted Ben, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Ben started toward the receptionist, noticed the three guests waiting, and changed his course.
Pulling back his shoulders and firming his gut, Ben continued his way into the hallway toward the offices.
He shouldn’t pull employees into the mess he’d made.
Yes, Zoe had lied by omission, but Charlotte was right. Ben should have let his wife explain rather than explode in her face. But damn it, now I’m ready to listen to her explanation, and she isn’t here. Where the fuck can she be?
Byron’s PI found Sheik Khalid bin Karim al Hania Abbas. The man was as real as they came and as nasty as the first impression he’d left on Ben. Per the sheik’s country’s custom, the man had a harem with several concubines and none of them had entered out of their free will. Ben scowled. Either, Khalid bin Karim al Hania Abbas has a thing for dubious consent, or he just likes to exert power over women.
However effective Derrick Maddox had been in finding the sheik, he’d turned out to be as ineffective in finding Ben’s wife.
Honestly, the PI can find a man in a country in the Middle East but not a woman who probably hasn’t left the country, state, or city? Or has she? The thought sent a shiver through him. The sheik was a local royalty and a public figure. Zoe was one of the almost one-hundred-seventy million women in the United States. She hadn’t collected her clothes from their home. She closed off her cell phone account. She blocked her social media accounts. And she hadn’t used her credit card. Where are you, woman?
“Excuse me?” The sturdy Hispanic woman from housekeeping halted in passing and gave him a curious look.
“Um.” He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Did I say that out loud?”
She leaned on her cart with cleaning supplies, narrowed her eyes, and replied as if weighing her words, “You did.”
“Sorry about that. It’s just—” He broke off. Do not involve the staff in your private mess. “Never mind.”
