Page 123 of Filthy Lies

We talk for a while, Vince describing how the Costa Rica project has risen from the earth and is poised to make us millions in legitimate revenue. I like hearing him excited about something. I like seeing him make his mark on the world, turning a dream into a reality. I could listen to him describe hotels and highways for the rest of our lives, I think.

If we’re lucky, that’s exactly what I’ll get to do.

“It’s working,” I say with quiet wonder. “Everything we’ve fought for. Everything we’ve sacrificed for. It’s actually working.”

Vince’s eyes are dark in the candlelight. “Did you doubt it would?”

“Yes,” I admit. “I doubted everything. Especially us.”

He nods. “How about now?”

“Now, I think we might actually pull this off.”

The string quartet downshifts to a slow, haunting melody. Vince stands, extending his hand to me. “Dance with me.”

I allow him to pull me to my feet and lead me to a small space cleared for this purpose. His hand is warm at the small of my back, guiding me into the familiar steps of a waltz he taught me before our wedding.

“Do you remember the first time I saw you?” he murmurs against my ear as we sway together beneath the stars.

“How could I forget? I walked in on you fucking your secretary. Not exactly afile-it-away-and-forget-about-itkind of thing.”

His chuckle rumbles through his chest. “And you stood there, frozen. Those big green eyes wide with shock. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment—and something else.”

I’m less ashamed than I once was, but my face goes hot nonetheless. “I was mortified, but I couldn’t look away.”

“I knew then. Something changed that day.” His hand slides lower, possessive at the curve of my ass. “I saw you and recognized something in you that mirrored something in me. A hunger. A desperation. A refusal to settle for less.”

“You manipulated me from the beginning,” I remind him, but there’s no heat in the accusation. We’re long past that now.

“I did.” His mouth brushes my temple. “And then you turned the tables. Manipulated me right back. Made me fall in love with you—something I never thought possible.”

The words steal my breath. Vince says “I love you” rarely, preciously. I memorize every single occasion.

“I was so scared of you,” I confess, pressing closer, hips sealed against his. “Terrified of what you represented. Of what loving you would turn me into. Then I was terrified of losing this.” My fingers curl into the lapels of his suit jacket. “I used to think your world would corrupt me. That I’d lose myself in your darkness.”

“Did you?”

I consider it, the woman I was versus the woman I’ve become. “No. Your world didn’t corrupt me—it revealed me. Showed me parts of myself I’d buried so deep I didn’t know they existed. The darkness was always there, Vince. You just gave me permission to embrace it.”

He spins me out, then pulls me back against his chest, our bodies moving in perfect sync. “You’ve done the same for me, you know. I wish there were words better thanthank you.”

The music swells, and Vince draws me closer until I can feel his heartbeat against mine. Over his shoulder, I see the world sprawled beyond us, treetops wreathed with fog. I like being above it all with him.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he teases, nipping at my ear.

I look up at him and laugh. “Two pennies for yours.”

“I was thinking about what you said the other day.”

“That you shouldn’t wash colors with whites?”

He chuckles. “That you want another baby someday.”

I’m instantly flushed. My thighs press together like that’ll bottle up the desire there. “Emphasis on thesomedaypart of that.”

He backs me into the table. I realize suddenly that the music has stopped, the clank and bustle of the makeshift kitchen has quieted, and all the plates that were on the table are gone. We have the rooftop to ourselves.

“Agree to disagree,” he says. “I think ‘someday’ should start right now.”

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