And furious, she thought. His failure to sway the jurors had enraged him. Those twelve people hadn't been convinced of his sincerity. She was the only one who had been fooled.
"How long ago was that?"
"Eleven months."
"What was his sentence?"
"Two years in prison. Ten years probation. His lawyer says he'll probably serve less than half that."
"So he could be paroled soon."
"He comes up for review in a few weeks."
Lucky stood up and put his back to her. He slid his hands, palms out, into the hip pockets of his jeans. There was a palpable tension in the way he held his shoulders. When he came back around, his expression was fierce and angry.
"How many times in the last eleven months have you cheated on him?"
"None of your business."
"The hell it's not!" Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to her feet. "I don't know if I'm one of dozens, one of an elite few, or the one and only. Frankly I don't know which prefer, but I damn sure want to know."
"It doesn't make any difference."
"It does to me."
Tears threatened. She wanted to shout the truth at him. You're the only one. Ever. Instead, her voice cracking, she whispered, "You're the only one."
His shoulders relaxed marginally, and some of the ferocity in his eyes dimmed. "Guess I'll have to take your word for that."
"Whether you do or not, it's the truth."
"Do you love him?"
"He's my husband."
"That's not what I asked."
"I'm not going to discuss my relationship with my husband with you."
"Why not?"
"Because you have no right to know."
"You shared your body, but you won't share a few facts?"
"I didn't share anything." She protested verbally, but the words didn't originate in her heart. "What happened just … evolved. It started with a few kisses and went from there. You caught me unaware."
"You were unaware of my tongue on your nipple?"
No, she inwardly groaned. She remembered every touch in vivid detail, but desperately wished she didn't. "I was half-asleep. I merely responded to the stimuli."
He took a menacing step forward. "If you tell me you were pretending that I was your husband, I'll strangle you."
"No," she said tearfully, "I wasn't pretending that."
Unable to meet his stare, she lowered her eyes. The silence in the house pressed in on her suffocatingly. His sheer physicality overwhelmed her.
To put essential space between them, she began to wander restlessly around the room, restacking magazines on the end table, looking for any task that would keep her hands occupied and her eyes off him.