Page 83 of Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

And we were back to silence again. It lasted until we got into our suite.

As soon as we entered the room, Andrew dropped my hand and headed toward the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of water. I kicked off my high heels and sat down on the couch. He moved over to the dining room table and opened his computer.

So much for getting back to our honeymoon. But as he looked at his computer, I felt relief more than anything else. "I think I'll take a shower and get ready for bed," I said as his fingers moved across his keyboard.

"Sounds good," he murmured, without lifting his head to look at me.

I got to my feet and paused by the table. "Are you working?"

"I have some emails I need to answer. You should get a good night's sleep tonight, Lauren. Tomorrow will be a busy day, the culmination of all of this."

"I know. I'm glad it's finally here." I thought about leaning down and giving him a kiss, if for no other reason than to keep pretending we were a happy couple. But he was focused on his computer, and there didn't seem to be any point in faking a feeling that wasn't there anymore.

I jerked awake, heart hammering. The digital clock said two forty. For a moment, I lay perfectly still, trying to identify what had pulled me from sleep—a sound, a movement, something. The space beside me was empty, the sheets cool to the touch. Then I realized Andrew stood at the window, a dark silhouette against flickering lights that shouldn't have been there.

"What's going on?" My voice came out rusty with sleep as I pushed myself up. "Is something wrong?"

"Looks like a fire," Andrew replied, his tone oddly detached.

"What?" I was out of bed in an instant, crossing to where he stood at the now-open patio doors. The night air carried the acrid smell of smoke, and through the trees, emergency lights pulsed like a crimson heartbeat. Even through the thick foliage, I could tell they were coming from the direction of Victor's villa.

My stomach dropped. "Oh my God," I breathed. "It looks like it's close to Victor's place."

"There's a lot of smoke, but I don't see any flames."

I strained to see through the darkness, but he was right, there were no flames, just clouds of smoke curling through the strobing lights of the fire engines. Still, a wave of fear ran through me.What if something had happened to one of the Carringtons? Would the morning bring another notice that someone was dead?"Should we go down there?" I asked.

"No. I'm sure whatever needs to be done is being done. We'd be in the way." Andrew paused. "It actually looks like the smoke is dissipating. I think they've got it under control."

"I hope no one was hurt."

"I'm sure they weren't. I bet whatever happened is electrical, something related to the power outage earlier tonight. There was probably a short somewhere." He yawned. "I'm going back to bed. Are you coming?"

"In a minute," I murmured, unable to look away from the distant scene. The emergency lights suddenly cut out, plunging everything into darkness. Whatever had happened was over—or someone wanted us to think it was.

A chill that had nothing to do with the night air crept over my skin. I hurried back inside, securing the patio door with trembling fingers. The soft click of the lock felt like false security in a world where nothing was what it seemed anymore.

As I got into bed, Andrew's breathing had already settled into the rhythm of sleep, or a convincing imitation of it. I lay awake in the darkness, listening to that steady sound and wondering if I'd ever trust it—or him—again. I also had the feeling this might be the last night we spent in bed together.

After tomorrow, we wouldn't have to stay together if we didn't want to. Not that we could publicly separate. But we would be done as the perfect Carrington wedding couple, and we could quietly go our own ways.

Where those ways would lead, I had no idea.

Andrew was gone again when I woke around eight o'clock Wednesday morning. His disappearing act had become routine, but today it carried a different weight. No note, no explanation—just tangled sheets that mirrored the mess of our marriage.

Megan arrived as I finished dressing, her usually composed features tight with stress. "We have an additional problem to deal with," she said, barely waiting for the door to close behind her.

"Is this about the fire engines I saw on the property last night?"

"Yes. There was a problem at Victor's villa."

My heart jumped. "Is he okay? Was anyone hurt?"

"I heard the private insurance investigator is at the medical center with a concussion, but everyone else is fine."

The room tilted slightly as I took that in. "What?" My voice caught. "You're talking about Ethan Stark?"

"Yes, and that part is not for public consumption, Lauren. Victor wants everyone to believe there was an electrical problem at his villa, which produced copious amounts of smoke but no fire. Everything is fine now."

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