“Jesus, no. I’m not looking for a way out. I thought we’d spend these six months in London together. Then this goddamn thing happened,” he said grimly. “Look, don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Coming to his feet, he quickly strode from the room.

Sad, mad, confused, she wasn’t sure she could have moved if the flat was on fire. Her brain was racing, wanting to find a way out, wanting more than anything to find hope in the tumult of her thoughts.

Dominic came back a few moments later, dressed in his jeans. He carried a primrose silk robe and, lifting her to her feet, he quickly slipped it on her, his gaze averted in the event he forgot what was required of him. Then he led her to the sofa, pulled her down onto his lap, and buried his face in her hair.

“This is the only way I know to fix this problem,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Who is she?” There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t have asked.

He raised his head, met her gaze. “I don’t know.” A half-truth. “I never met her.” True.

“Come on—you’re marrying someone you’ve never met? You can do better than that.”

He couldn’t tell her that without this marriage, her life was in jeopardy. “It’s complicated.”

“I just can’t imagine anything’s that complicated.” She looked at him directly, scrutinizing his face as if the answer lay within. “What’s really going on? You must have knocked up someone important. Or are you really just tired of me?”

“Jesus, stop. Did it look like I was tired of you last night?”

“Fucking marathons aren’t exactly unusual for you.” She sighed. “Are they?”

“You expect me to answer that?” A hint of his temper began to flare.

And the elephant in the room came to life. “You have to admit, it’s not unreasonable that I’m questioning this so-called complication. With your history.”

He closed his eyes, wishing the three months were over, that he didn’t have to have this conversation. “No, it’s not unreasonable,” he said, slowly opening his eyes.

“Do they want your money?” She needed a reason that made sense, that took away the fear that he didn’t want her anymore. “Tell me something I can understand. Because I don’t understand this at all.”

He blew out a breath. “I really can’t talk about it.” He hesitated. “That’s part of the complication.”

“Jesus, Dominic.” Her head had begun to spin. “I don’t know if I can believe you. It seems to me you could change this if you wanted. Although maybe I’m expecting too much. Maybe you don’t want to.”

His voice was soft, his eyes gentle. “If I could change this, I would. But I can’t. And I understand how hard it is for you to believe me. The whole goddamn thing is unbelievable. But this clusterfuck is mine to deal with, not yours. You’re busy with a new job now, you’ve got your hands full. Maybe it would be best if we took a break for a few months.” It was harder to say than he’d thought. Self-sacrifice had always been for others.

She felt her world dim, as if someone had abruptly turned off the lights. “Is that what you want?”

“No, it’s not what I want,” he said, feeling deadly tired. “It’s so far from what I fucking want. But I’m trying to be decent. How can I ask you to sit and wait for me? I’d like to more than anything. I’d like everything just to stay the way it is.” He held her gaze.

She didn’t immediately answer. She turned her head away. Then she looked at him, refusing to let herself be weak enough to cry. “That’s asking too much.”

“I understand,” he said quietly. “It’s not fair to you.”

She felt something deep inside her give, like a Florida sinkhole that was collapsing under her feet. “Damn it,” she whispered, trying to get up. “I’m not going to cry over you. You must do this all the time.”

His grip tightened, forcing her to stay. “I don’t ever do this.” His eyes closed for a second and he took a breath. “I usually say thanks it’s been nice. I’m trying to be a good guy for once in my life.”

“You become a good guy by leaving me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Jesus, baby. Tell me what you want me to say and I’ll say it.”

“Tell me you’re not getting married.”

The silence was oppressive.

“Christ, Dominic. People don’t get married because of some murky business deal. If they did, half the people I shut down online would have to get married. They’re all crooks. Do you really think I’m that stupid? Jesus, I should have known when you were so super nice last night, when you made me think you actually cared, that I’d get burned in the end. It’s fucking Hong Kong all over again.”

He gave her a black look. “If only it were that simple. Because when it comes to being burned, I’m being consumed by the flames of hell and you’re feeling the heat from blowing out your birthday candles, okay? It’s not even close.”

“So what I feel doesn’t matter? Or not as much as you? Is that right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Answer me, damn it.”

He stared at her, his jaw tightened. “You wouldn’t like my answer.”

Fury began to burn through her consciousness. “Fine,” she said, the single word whip sharp. “I’m sure you’re right. Because you’re always right, aren’t you? I hope your new wife is fucking docile.” She came to her feet, bitchy as hell, and said, “I should thank you for the sex last night. It was great. You were fantastic as usual. And make sure you call off your hired help. I won’t be needing them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for work.”