“Three slices?” he said, bemused.
“Try them all, then decide which one you like best.” Kissing his temple, she said, “I want your first Thanksgiving to be perfect.”
Rodrigo lifted his fork, to do as commanded. But as he tasted each slice of pie, all the buttery, sweet, creamy, crunchy goodness he’d anticipated tasted like ash in his mouth. As he looked at her veiled eyes, a panicked, animal suspicion skittered down his spine.
What was she hiding?
Against his will, he was flooded by memories of those other women who’d hidden secrets. Secrets that inevitably ended with Rodrigo looking at pictures of them naked in bed with other men.
He still wondered who’d sent the photographs. One of his rivals? One of his friends? Whoever it was, they’d hovered in the shadows for a decade, looking out for him. He was grateful to them.
But he also hated them.
“So which one do you like best?” said one of Tess’s cousins anxiously.
“Yes, which?” said the other.
Standing beside him at the table, Lola looked down at Rodrigo with inscrutable hazel eyes.
There was no question which woman he liked best.
His wife.
He could not bear to lose Lola. Not at any price. They were married now. A family—
Stop, Rodrigo told himself angrily. He was no longer a weak boy, lonely and desperate to be loved. He’d realized the truth long ago. Anyone he loved, he lost. That was the reality, or at least his reality.
But he didn’t love Lola. Therefore, he told himself firmly, he had nothing to worry about. His investigator had already assured him she wasn’t in contact with Sergei Morozov, or any other man. And having a home and financial security for Jett meant too much to her. She’d never cheat, not when it would leave her without a penny.
His shoulders slowly relaxed.
“Well?” Lola said softly, “What is your answer?”
“Kiss me,” he said huskily, “and I’ll tell you my favorite.”
Putting her hand gently on his cheek, Lola lowered her head to his, and softly kissed him, in front of everyone. Her lips were tender and burned through his body. Through his soul. Finally, she pulled away.
“Pecan,” he said, because it was closest.
“I knew it.” One of Tess’s cousins looked at the other triumphantly. “I told you it was the best, Natalie.”
But Rodrigo wasn’t thinking about pie. He looked up at his wife.
No other woman had ever been so important to him before. His life had become better from the moment Lola had come into it. He had the sudden disquieting thought that she could destroy that happiness, if she chose.
No, he told himself fiercely. She doesn’t own me. As long as I don’t love her, I can trust her.
But he saw the evasion of Lola’s gaze, the wistfulness of her smile. And all the warmth and happiness of the day melted away.
Rodrigo suddenly knew one thing. He had to find out her secret. Before it was too late.
Before he got another anonymous photograph in the mail.
* * *
“Thank you for meeting me, Ms. Patel.” In California a few weeks later, Lola rose from the table in the outdoor patio of the beach café, holding out her hand. “It’s an honor.”
“The honor is mine,” said the other woman, shaking her hand. Lifting her designer sunglasses to her black, shiny hair, Elise Patel looked around them, blinking in the bright sunshine. “Honestly, it’s the first time I’ve left my studio in weeks.”