Page 150 of Bitter Secrets

By the time they stopped on the runway, the seafood she consumed was pitching and rolling in her stomach. She blocked Roth, who was still on the phone, and glanced over her shoulder as Mo and Johan boarded. When Roth jerked his chin at the jet, she shook her head and pointed at his phone, telling him to hang up.

“Grayson, we have to pick this up later. I’m about to take off. Yeah. Soon.” He hung up and eyed her. “What is it?”

His impatience was a palpable force, which only confirmed her suspicions.

“Why did you leave Berlin today?”

He frowned. “I told you.”

“You said you left your meeting because you were thinking about me.”

She waited for him to confirm that, but all he said was, “Where’s this going?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Lyle thinks you staged that scene on the cliff.”

She searched his face for any sign of discomfort, but she couldn’t read him at the best of times. There was no change in his expression. He didn’t look away, shift his weight, or twitch.

“You didn’t seem surprised to see him,” she said quietly.

“What’s your point?”

“Did you know he was coming to Portugal to check on me?” When he didn’t respond, she prodded his chest. “Is that why you really left Berlin?”

“Yes.”

Even though she braced for it, his answer left her inwardly reeling. Her buoyant spirits plummeted, and a biting cold began to spread.

“You staged that kiss?” she whispered.

His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t stage anything. I wanted to kiss you, so I did.”

Her hopes and dreams dissolved, leaving nothing but a yawning emptiness she wished she could fall into. Lyle was right. Roth was always two steps ahead of him… and her. He played the loving and concerned husband, so Lyle could report back to her family that they were acting like a real married couple. Acting being the operative word. She hadn’t been, but he was. How could she have been so gullible to believe he would take a day off to spend time together? When had he ever? He always had an ulterior motive. He pulled the strings and she began to dance. When would she learn?

She turned and saw Mo and Johan standing in the opening of the jet, watching them. They cleared the way as she hurried up the steps. Sarai was already slumped against the window, fast asleep. She took the seat beside his personal assistant and fussed with her purse as Roth paused in the aisle beside her. She willed him to leave her alone. If he touched her, she might shatter.

“It was necessary,” he said finally. “To make things easier.”

“I understand,” she said.

And she did. She wanted her family to believe in their marriage as much as he did. If he had told her there was a chance that Lyle would appear, she would have played along. But he didn’t do that. He hadn’t said a goddamn thing about her brother-in-law. Instead, he chose to con her from the moment he saw her this morning, plying her with kisses and sweet talk. He even played nice with her friends and went along with their excursion to make their marriage more believable. Did he think she wasn’t capable of acting around Lyle? Did he not trust her to play her part?

As Roth made his way to the back of the jet, she slumped in her seat and closed her eyes. She was relieved that the engine covered the sound of her ragged breathing. Everything he did was to keep their image intact, so he could follow through with his plans without any interference from her family. And she helped by sitting on his lap and kissing him like a lovesick fool. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth as she tasted bile in her mouth. He was a master manipulator, and she kept stepping into his trap.

As the jet raced down the runway, she clutched the arm rests and wished fate would have some fucking mercy on her and stop using her as its favorite toy. Her stuffing was leaking out of the massive rips and tears from being torn in different directions. She was in dire need of repair, but there was no one to sew up wounds or replace what she’d lost. All she could do was slip what was left of her back in and hope she stayed intact before Roth damaged her so severely, she would never be able to put herself back together again.

As they soared into the sky and the cabin lights went out, she closed her eyes and let the tears fall.

CHAPTER17

They were back in London, and once again, it was raining. It wasn’t a light sprinkle, but a downpour. She took her time slipping into her trench coat and hoped everyone would go ahead of her, so she’d have a moment to herself.

When she turned, she wasn’t pleased to see Roth waiting beside the open door. He was still playing the role of a diligent husband. She wasn’t sure why he bothered. Sarai was the first one off the plane, since Roth’s first meeting of the day was in less than six hours. Their only audience were the flight attendants, who gave Roth wary, sidelong glances as they waited for them to disembark.

She ignored the umbrella Roth held out for her and used her bag instead. It was foolish and maybe a bit childish, but she didn’t want anything from him, not even a fucking umbrella. The rain wasn’t going to kill her. She bit back a gasp as freezing water cascaded off her purse and slipped down the back of her coat. So, maybe she’d get sick. She could handle that. She double timed it to the car and dove into the back seat.

As she mopped up her face, Roth made his way to the opposite side and, with a poise that set her teeth on edge, slipped into the back seat beside her. Johan grabbed his dripping umbrella and stashed it in the trunk before hopping into the front passenger seat.

She was soaked through, but damn if she was going to complain about it. She adjusted the vents and placed her hands over the stream of hot air as they left the airport. No one spoke. Even with the rain pelting down, the silence was deafening. They never played the radio since Roth took frequent phone calls. She glanced at him as she slicked back her wet hair. It was odd to see him without his phone in hand. Even more disturbing was the fact that he was staring pensively out the window. Scheming, most likely. Well, he could have at it. She was done.

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