Page 9 of Faithless

“And you said you were going to look for a place to live,” I reply.

That smile stays fixed. “I am looking.”

“Taking your sweet time.” I roll my eyes. “How many of these parties are you expecting me to go to before we separate?”

He shrugs. “Just the few that come up.”

“This won’t work,” I say, though my voice isn’t nearly as strong as I want it to be.

“What won’t work?” His smile is fixed.

I take a deep breath. “You know what I mean.”

He shrugs. “I really don’t. You’ve always been a charmer with my clients. Why wouldn’t I use your skills to my advantage while I still can?”

My nostrils flare. “You told me after the Esposito party that I was too ‘friendly’ with the CFO…” My brow knits. “What was his name?”

His smile falters. “Anthony Mariano.”

Wow, that worked. All it took was one little jab for him to reveal that he doesn’t want me “using my skills,” as he calls it. What a condescending way to describe making insipid conversation with an insincere smile planted on my face. Good lord, he’s desperate.

I smile. “He’s very handsome and recently divorced. Maybe I should give him a call when we finally announce—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

I flinch at the abruptness of the words. When I look up at his face, his expression has completely changed. His jaw is set, and his eyes are almost wild.

He takes a step back and drags in a shaky breath. His gaze drops to the floor. “We’ll be leaving at six thirty. The party’s at El Encanto. Cocktail attire.” With that, he turns around and marches out of the kitchen.

My heart squeezes in my chest, and I hate myself for it. I should be over Mark’s irrational jealousy. It used to break my heart to see it, because I could sense the deep pain behind it. Now it’s just a reflex, something he can’t get over because he feels entitled to my fidelity.

One mistake—however grave—put me under his power forever, in his mind.

He’s going to find out that’s not the case.

CHAPTER 5

Mark

* * *

“Whitney, are you almost ready?” I call out from the bottom of the staircase.

“Yes!” her musical voice calls back.

Blood pumps through my veins. I can hardly stand still as I wait for her to come down.

I ought to be nervous. I got my assistant, Lily, to scour a list of some of our high-end clients to find something to attend, and she couldn’t find even a kid’s birthday party. Almost everyone is on vacation this time of year. Walter Johnson Farms only contracts us for rotary tillers, and they’ll probably be surprised to see us both in attendance.

Who cares if they out me with their surprise? Whitney already knows what I’m doing.

That doesn’t mean I won’t be able to charm her.

My breath catches in my throat when she walks down the stairs. She’s wearing a tight black dress that falls to her ankles and hugs her slender curves. She has a gorgeous body.

She’s going to do well if she divorces me. She’s incredibly beautiful, not just for her age, but for the world, and she knows it. I wonder if it was part of her thought process when weighing out her options. I wonder if she looked in the mirror and concluded that not only is she still beautiful, but she aged well when many beautiful women fall from a steep cliff after their thirties. She’s going to look that much better by comparison.

It doesn’t matter, because she won’t be getting a divorce.

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