im. I love him,” I whisper.
I think Ray is smiling on the other end of the line, but
it’s hard to tell. It’s always hard to tell with Ray.
“Sure thing, Annie. And come and visit this old man
and bring that Christian with you.”
I march back into the room—pissed at Christian for
not warning me—and hand him the phone, my expression
letting him know just how pissed I am. He’s amused as he
takes the phone and heads back into his study.
Two minutes later, he reappears.
“I ha一ve your stepfather’s rather begrudging blessing,”
he says proudly, so proudly, in fact, that it makes me
giggle, and he grins at me. He’s acting like he’s just
negotiated a major new merger or acquisition, which I
suppose on one level, he has.
“Damn, you’re a good cook, woman.” Christian swallows
his last mouthful and raises his glass of white wine to me. I
blossom under his praise, and it occurs to me I’ll only get
to cook for him on weekends. I frown. I enjoy cooking.
Perhaps I should ha一ve made him a cake for his birthday. I
check my watch. I still ha一ve time.
“Ana?” He interrupts my thoughts. “Why did you ask
me not to take your photo?” His question startles me all
the more because his voice is deceptively soft.
Oh . . . shit. The photos. I stare down at my empty
plate, twisting my fingers in my lap. What can I say? I’d
promised myself not to mention that I’d found his version
of Readers’ Wives.
“Ana,” he snaps. “What is it?” He makes me jump,
and his voice commands me to look at him. When did I
think he didn’t intimidate me?
“I found your photos,” I whisper.
His eyes widen in shock. “You’ve been in the safe?”
he asks, incredulous.
“Safe? No. I didn’t know you had a safe.”
He frowns. “I don’t understand.”
“In your closet. The box. I was looking for your tie,
and the box was under your jeans . . . the ones you
normally wear in the playroom. Except today.” I flush.
He gapes at me, appalled, and nervously runs his hand
through his hair as he processes this information. He rubs
his chin, lost in thoug
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