Page 164 of Sapphire Sunset

“Is that all?” Connor asked.

“No.” She took another slow sip of wine. When she looked athim again, there was something unguarded in her eyes. “I want to see it. Six E,right? I’m told that was his villa of choice.”

Connor looked to Logan for confirmation of this, and henodded.

Did she really want to visit the scene of her husband’sblackmail as if there were a headstone there? Or was she after something else?

He had to find out. After checking with registration to makesure it was vacant, the three of them started for the villa. There were only ninein all, terraced in three rows on the south coast-facing hillside. Each had aside door that opened onto a walkway that traveled downhill between each row.They were newer than the main building. Imitation adobe with red tile accents,but the same brightly colored furnishings that matched the renovated lobby’s colorscheme, the same plush carpeting and taffeta drapes as the main rooms. Each onehad a cathedral ceiling and a tiny backyard with a plunge pool. Six E had goneunoccupied since the scandal broke. As they entered, Connor pulled the drapes andopened the balcony door so ocean air could drive out the vaguely musty smell.

When he turned, he saw Sylvia Milton standing in place,turning slowly to take in her surroundings. The bright blue chaise lounge inthe corner had captured her attention. It was positioned so its occupant couldtake in the sparkling ocean view. Her eyes filled. Was she imagining herhusband sitting in it, attached to the IV drip of whatever punishing treatmenthad been intended to drive his cancer into submission?

As Logan took up a position next to him, as they bothwatched Sylvia’s silent tears, Connor did the math in his head. She had neverbeen here before. Her husband had kept this place a secret from her. And thatmeant there was another secret he might have kept from her as well.

The silence between them stretched to what felt like abreaking point. “Mrs. Milton, may I ask you a question?”

It seemed to take effort, but she roused herself, nodded,and dug a tissue from her purse.

“We were told your husband was keeping his diagnosis secretfrom his company,” Connor said.

“That’s correct,” she whispered.

“Did he also keep it a secret from you?”

When he looked into her eyes, he saw the pain there, saw itin the sudden sag in the corners of her mouth, the fresh sheen of tears in herradiant eyes. The single sharp exhale she took through her nose, as if she’dplanned to take several but couldn’t manage the next few.

“First, he had me travel all over. Told me he’d be closingsome big deals and would be less around than usual. Thenhestarted totravel. Or, at least, that’s what he told me. But he was coming here. When hecouldn’t hide it anymore, he told me it was an infection he’d picked up on oneof his trips. By the time the doctors told me what it really was, he wasslipping away. It was terminal, and there was very little hope. Apparently hedidn’t want me to know. And then came the letter.”

Connor was tempted to tell her he had his own experiencewith letters left by the departed, but this was her moment.

She walked to the chaise lounge and ran her fingers gentlyalong the head. “I used to think it was a good thing that he always saw me asthat young party girl he practically picked up off the runway and turned intohis wife. I never stopped being young in his eyes. Who doesn’t want to be youngforever? But the flip side was he never saw me as very competent either. Itmight be why he never tried to trade me out for a younger model. And it feelscruel now, but I always thought the fact that he was old would be my best hopein that regard. Because eventually I would get to care for him and show himthere was more to me than my…beautiful smile. But he didn’t let me. In the end,he said he wanted to spare me the pain. But what he really did was spare me thechance to be his wife.”

After a while, she returned to the center of the room andgave it one last survey, her expression turning flinty again.

“So,” she said, “do we have a deal?”

Connor turned to the man next to him. “Logan?”

Logan looked surprised to be consulted, then pleased.

“Of course,” he said.

She turned to Logan and extended her hand. “With myapologies, Mr. Murdoch.”

Logan accepted her handshake. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Would you like us to show you out?” Connor asked.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

Sylvia went for the door, but as soon as her hand closed onthe knob, she turned to them. “Do you love each other?” she asked.

“More than words can say,” Connor said.

“What he said,” Logan added. “And then some.”

She nodded. “Good. But it won’t be enough just to feel it.You’ll also have to receive it. Trust me. Sometimes that’s the hardest part.”

And then her footfalls were clacking up the walkway backtoward the main building, and Logan took Connor’s hand in his. A few minuteslater, they left the villa, left its ghosts and grief, and stepped out into thesun. Downhill a few steps was a paved walking path that sat right below thelowest row of villas, skirting the top of the cliffs. It was one of the hotel’slittle secrets, and right now they had it all to themselves. Drained by SylviaMilton’s unexpected display of emotion, Connor wilted into Logan, lettinghimself be supported by his powerful embrace.

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