Page 7 of Exposed

“I’m sure it is, but?—”

“I’m not debating this with you, Beth,” he said. “My mother raised me better than to let a lady sleep on a sofa when there was a bed available.”

“Your mother told you what the bedroom arrangements should be when going undercover—while injured—with a woman you barely know?” she asked with a little smirk. “I don’t remember that etiquette lesson. Your mom must have been a regular Emily Post.”

“Okay, so maybe this exact situation never came up when she was telling me how to behave,” Eric admitted. “But I know what she’d expect of me. She always says that being kind is something anyone can afford.” At times, his mother had been too kind, too self-deprecating which allowed his father to take advantage of her. But his father was a shit who knew nothing of kindness or how to treat people. Eric refused to be like him.

“Sounds like a nice, motherly thing to say.” She plumped a pillow on the couch before sitting down and reaching for her laptop on the coffee table. “Our dinner is supposed to be delivered in about an hour. I’m going to get some work done until it comes.”

“I’ll be on the deck,” he said. As always, the sea was calling to him. Part of the reason he’d gone into the navy was so he could be around the water constantly.

“Okay.” She looked at him and past him to the stunning view, her expression a little wistful, like maybe she wanted to be out there with him. A second later, she gave her head a little shake. “Enjoy.”

He glanced back at her as he stepped out the door. Her fingers were already moving over the keyboard and her attention was fully fixed on the screen. If he really was her husband, he’d do about anything to focus her attention on him.

But she wasn’t, and he wasn’t the relationship type, so he focused on other matters, like how he was going to keep her safe in a bungalow with minimal security features. He reminded himself that that was what he should be worried about, not how beautiful she looked in that yellow dress.

5

The next morning, Beth was up early and raring to get started. The private bungalow she and Eric were staying in was comfy enough and the sound of the waves rippling beneath the elevated floor of their lodgings was oddly soothing. She’d slept like the dead, in other words.

Eric was still snoozing away on the sofa when she came out of the bathroom and tiptoed back to the bedroom to get dressed. She wasn’t used to having a roommate these days, and it hadn’t occurred to her to take them into the bathroom with her, until she’d emerged from her shower with nothing to put on except her towel.

That was awkward—though not as awkward as their conversation the night before about sleeping arrangements. She’d tried a few more times to get him to reconsider taking the bed, but he hadn’t budged and finally, she’d given in and let the topic drop. Over dinner, they’d talked a little more about the details of their cover story. Conversation had been pleasant and had flowed easily between them, but she’d kept her laptop handy throughout the meal as a clear sign that it wasn’t a romanticdinner. She was keeping herself in business mode as much as possible and still playing her part. Right now, that meant dressing to look the way everyone would expect. She slipped on a pink bikini but covered it up with a black linen jumpsuit.

She finally woke him up after ordering their room service breakfast and checked her email while he took his shower. It was weird that there were so many signs about the Wi-Fi, but the connection really was top notch, even here in the tastefully decorated bungalow. She had to appreciate the efficiency since she was able to breeze through her emails in no time at all.

Beth sat at the small table in the living room, doing her best to concentrate on her work and not on the sounds of Eric bumping around in the bathroom or his soft hums as he shaved. But each time she closed her eyes, all she could picture was him with a wet towel slung around his hips and water trickling down his smooth skin. What she wouldn’t give to lick those droplets off, taste the salt and heat of him, kiss every square inch of…

“Breakfast here yet?” he said, coming out of the bedroom wearing a clean pair of cargo shorts and a black T-shirt with a surf logo on the front. He padded over barefoot to the small kitchenette and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I’m starving.”

“Should be here any minute.” She checked her watch to keep from staring at him. Why did her have to be so attractive? “We’ll have to hurry though. We’ve got our first group therapy session in half an hour in the main building.”

“Group therapy?” Eric scrunched his nose. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Beth closed her laptop and turned in her seat to face him. “It would be too suspicious if we didn’t participate. We’re supposed to be here to fix our troubled marriage, remember?”

“Yeah, but I doubt anything on offer here would really help anyone. Someone claiming they can fix all your problems in just one week? I’m all for therapy, but that part sounds like a scam.”

It was the most cynical thing she’d ever heard him say. She was about to ask where his attitude came from when a knock sounded on the door. Beth got up and let the room service guy in to deliver their breakfast, then tipped him on his way out. They settled in for a quick meal of croissants and fresh tropical fruits. “So what’s your problem with therapy?”

“I don’t have a problem with therapy. Idohave a big problem with things that sound too good to be true,” he said around a bite of mango. “I grew up around a con-man, and I’ve seen how they operate first hand. I like to think I can smell BS a mile away.”

She nibbled on a buttery croissant, the flaky dough melting on her tongue. “Sounds like whoever it was did a real number on you.”

“Yep.” He finished off his fruit then took a long swig of coffee. “My dad was a piece of work all right.”

“Your dad?” His dad had been a con man? That had to leave a person with some serious scars and trust issues. Her family’s overprotectiveness was annoying at times, but she knew how lucky she was to have grown up in a stable, loving environment with parents who encouraged her and a brother who had her back. Learning that Eric’s childhood hadn’t had that security gave her some insight into him. It might explain why such a handsome guy was still single at his age if he still struggled to trust others.

Eric checked his watch. “We should get going.”

She wanted to ask him more about his father, but if they didn’t get to that damned group session, their cover could be blown before they’d even started investigating. She quickly downed the rest of her croissant then grabbed her tote. When she took Eric’s hand as they walked up the boardwalk to the short path to the main building, she felt him tense. He glanced down at her, but he’d put on his sunglasses and she couldn’t see his eyes.

Was he regretting that he’d revealed too much? Or was the tension a sign of nervousness about the roles they were about to play? As always she had questions—it was one of the career hazards of being a reporter. But this was her partner, not an interview subject. They needed to be a united front so she could nail this story. So for now, she had to focus her inquisitive brain on what was going on at the retreat.

By the time they arrived at the session, the other couples were already assembled in a circle. Beth and Eric took their places and soon Robert Hart entered the room to preside. They went around the room and each person introduced themselves and talked a bit about why they were there. In her head, Beth went over their story again. She’d been enlisted in the Army, sent overseas for three years and while she’d been gone, Eric had turned into a workaholic and been unfaithful. But they still loved each other and wanted to try to fix their marriage.

“…and then I came home from work earlier one day and found him sleeping with my best friend,” another woman in their group said.

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