Allie kept her head down as she made her way to the back of the conference room. Since they’d returned from Paris there had been plenty of occasions where she’d had to pretend Hudson meant nothing more to her than any of the other board members. But this time it was her husband who had just strolled into the room. The sight of him dressed in a navy pinstripe suit and wearing her favorite crystal blue tie hit her like a brick wall. Every instinct told her to go to him, to touch him, to kiss him, or hell, to even just talk to him. But she couldn’t, not without raising suspicion. So instead she turned on her heel, seeking refuge at the small breakfast buffet Colin had ordered for the morning’s meeting.
She felt Hudson’s presence as he drew closer, and by the time he was standing next to her, every nerve in her body had sprung to life. In a subtle move his fingers brushed the back of her hand as he reached for a coffee cup. “I missed my wife this morning,” he murmured, his voice caressing her heated skin.
Allie’s lips parted on a sharp intake of air. Hearing Hudson call her his wife was bittersweet, a double-edged sword that both warmed her heart and pierced it. Her gaze met his for the first time, but Ben Weiss walked up behind them before she could reply. Not that it mattered. The look in Hudson’s eyes told her he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“I believe we’re ready to begin,” Ben said.
Hudson and Allie took their seats at the opposite ends of the conference table. At times it felt as though they were in a scene from an old Western, locked in some sort of standoff at high noon; but Allie loved every minute she spent sparring with Hudson across the glossy mahogany. He would grumble about how she was the proverbial thorn in his side, but she knew he loved it, too. They challenged each other, brought out their best, and then took it to an even higher level.
If only the other board members saw it that way.
While Allie had enjoyed a sweet victory when it came to preserving the print edition of their flagship paper, most other votes hadn’t gone her way. For that she had two people to thank. One was Duncan Wentworth, a man with money older than most anyone else in the Chicago. Wentworth wielded an undeniable influence despite never having worked a day in his life, and he never missed a chance to patronize Allie’s efforts.
The other member blocking her at every turn was Melanie McCormick, a woman who’d earned her seat on the board through a string of successful divorces. To Melanie, the climb up the corporate ladder had come in the form of wedding vows spoken to men with ten times her net worth. Previous targets had been twice her age, but if her unabashed appreciation for Hudson was any indication, this time she’d set her sights on a much younger man.
Melanie slithered up to Hudson the moment the meeting ended. Having seen the same less-than-subtle maneuver played out at nearly every gathering, Allie had expected nothing less. But there was something different this time. Allie could see it in her eyes. Melanie was upping her game, and Hudson Chase was the coveted prize.
Allie took her time gathering her belongings until she and Hudson were the only two who remained. “What was all that about?” she asked as he strode across the now empty conference room.
“It seems our fellow board member has found herself without an escort for the Ingram Gala this weekend. She asked me to do the honors.”
“She asked you out on a date?” Allie squeaked.
“Don’t look so horrified, Alessandra.” Hudson smirked. “I’ve been told I’m quite a catch.”
“You’re a married man.”
He chuckled. “She doesn’t know that. But I doubt in her case it would make much difference.”
“That’s not making me feel any better.”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes were lit with amusement. “Although jealousy is quite becoming on you.”
Allie glanced down at her bare left hand. When she spoke her voice was barely a whisper. “I hated taking my ring off this morning.”
His gaze softened. “As did I.”
For a brief moment the world around them fell away and they were back in the candlelit barn. The intimacy that passed between them made her chest tighten to an almost unbearable ache. Hudson lowered his head, his lips inching closer to hers.
Behind them someone cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt,” Colin said.
Allie stepped back. “It’s fine. Just going over a few additional items,” she turned, giving him her full attention. “What’s up?”
Colin’s eyes darted to Hudson then back to Allie. Her assistant was far too perceptive to have missed what was going on. But he was also proving to be fiercely loyal. She felt confident he would never breathe a word of what he now surely suspected. “Detective Green is here to see you.”
“Show her to my office and offer her something to drink. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Will do.”
“What’s that about?” Hudson asked once they were alone. The frown that creased his handsome brow revealed his unease.
“No idea. This meeting wasn’t scheduled.”
He gave a tight nod. “She has news then. She wouldn’t stop by to tell you things were status quo.”
“Do you think they’ve connected Julian to all this?”
“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. See what the woman has to say first,” he cautioned. “And call me as soon as she leaves.”
“Absolutely.”
They stared at each other for a moment more until Hudson blew out an exasperated breath and ran a hand back through his hair. “These platonic good-byes are growing tiresome.”
Despite her agreement, his frustration actually made her smile. “And if people knew we were married you’d what, push me up against the wall? “
“For a start.”
“I think I’m going to like working with my husband. With any luck this charade will be over soon.”
“One can only hope.” Hudson’s words echoed in Allie’s head as she made her way back to her office.
Hope
. It was what got her through the past few weeks. Hope they would finally be free of Julian’s threats; hope her parents’ murderer would be brought to justice; and most of all, hope that she and Hudson would finally have the future they never thought possible.
But when she stepped into her office, all hope faded. Detective Green sat in one of the chairs in front of Allie’s desk, her back straight and her expression grim. As had been the case every other time they’d met, the middle-aged woman was dressed in a conservative suit, and her sandy brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Her green eyes still cataloged every detail of her surroundings, but when she met Allie’s questioning stare, her gaze no longer possessed the confident reassurance that had carried Allie through the darker moments of the investigation. This time her gaze was filled with nothing but apologetic disappointment.
She stood the moment Allie entered the room. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Not a problem.” Allie shook the detective’s outstretched hand, then rounded her desk. “I was hoping your visit meant there’d been a break in the investigation. But judging by your expression I’m assuming that’s not why you’re here.” She gestured toward the empty chair. “Please sit.”
“I wish that were the case.” The detective’s suit jacket split open as she sat in one of the leather chairs, offering Allie a glimpse of the badge she wore clipped to her waist and the gun she kept holstered at her side. She drew a deep breath through her nose. “There’s no easy way to say this, Miss Sinclair, but we’ve hit a dead end.”
Allie’s heart pounded in her chest. This couldn’t be happening. Julian wasn’t going to get away with murder. “I thought you identified the shooter?”
Green nodded. “Yes. But we can’t find anything to link him to a third party. No bank deposits, no calls or recent trips out of town.”
Then you’re not looking in the right place
, she wanted to scream. But she couldn’t tell the police what she knew, not without incriminating Hudson.
“At this point all indications are he was working alone.”
“With what motive?”
“It could have been a robbery as we first suspected. But without any further information, we may never know if he was working on his own or not.”
Allie’s eyes drifted shut as she took a moment to compose herself. When she opened them, the detective was standing in front of her desk.
“There are no victories in my line of duty, Miss Sinclair; nothing I can do to bring back lost loved ones. But I work hard to try and bring them justice, and a sense of closure for their families. I’m truly sorry I haven’t been able to do that for you.”
“Thank you, Detective Green. I know you’ve dedicated a lot of time and effort to this investigation.”
“If there are any new developments, you’ll be the first to know. But for the time being, at least, the department considers this case closed.”
Allie waited until the door clicked closed, then rested her elbows on the desk and dropped her face into her hands. That fucking bastard. Without a doubt there would be no further developments. Julian had covered his tracks too well. The team Hudson had assembled was the only remaining hope. If they could find something, anything, she could use as leverage against Julian . . .
The shrill ring of a phone cut through the quiet office and Allie jumped. At first she ignored it, hoping Colin would pick up, but then she realized it was her father’s direct line. Who even had that number? Allie had certainly never given it to anyone. She reached for the handset and answered with a tentative “Hello?”
“Bonjour, Alessandra.”
Speak of the devil. Literally. Allie grit her teeth. “Julian.”
“So tense, ma cherie.” A short, harsh laugh came across the line. “What’s the matter, still chafing over your loss?”
“My what?”
“Today’s vote.” A lighter clicked near the mouthpiece of his phone. “Couldn’t quite convince them.”
How the hell did he know that so quickly?
“No matter. Once I’m in control, I would have reversed it. Terrible idea.”
“Are you spying on me?”
“Keeping an eye on my company.” He blew out a harsh breath that was undoubtedly a plume of smoke.
“It’s not yours yet,” she muttered.
“You’re losing too often to that mongrel.”
“You called to tell me I’m not winning enough battles in the boardroom?”
He snorted his derision. “I have better things to do with my time than spend it hurling insults, Alessandra. Not much sport either. As you Americans say, shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Then why did you call?
“Because your litany of failures is altering my timetable. I fear the board will oust you before they convene in March. If they appoint your former lover as the permanent CEO, he’ll never sign over his shares, no matter how wide you spread your legs.” The lascivious tone of his voice sent a cold chill down her spine. “I’m returning to Chicago on the first of the month. I want this mess resolved by the time I’m back.”
“But that’s only—”
“Eleven days. Use them wisely.”
Enough of this bullshit, Hudson thought. Nick was late. Again. The sun had set and the last of the hazy orange rays reflected off the surrounding skyscrapers, making the Magnificent Mile look like a fiery planet. Which was deceptive since the chill that descended barged in like an unwelcome houseguest.
Hudson’s living room became as dark as his frame of mind when the last of the light faded. The cavernous room felt more like a cell made of glass than a luxury penthouse overlooking the urban sprawl of Chicago. A cell, a cage, a prison—all adequate terms to represent the grip Julian had on his balls; the one that had him in a constant state of revisit and revise.
He stood in front of the Art Deco bar in a black, custom-tailored Brioni tux and a motherfucking bow tie, dressed for yet another goddamn event. The silver lining of the night was that he would be in the same room as Allie. The bad news? He wasn’t going to be able to touch his own wife. But the thing that dumped his mood even further into the shitter was not being introduced as her husband. He knew the situation was only temporary, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. And to make matters worse, he was escorting a woman he could barely tolerate in a professional setting.
Hudson glanced down at the crystal decanters gleaming like jewels in the low ambient light. A stiff three fingers would go a long way toward taking the edge off of an evening with Melanie McCormick. That or ear plugs.
“Yo, Hudson.” Nick called out from the foyer. “Where ya at?”
So much for that drink. Hudson slipped the wedding band off his finger and tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket. “In here. You’re late.”
“I couldn’t work this fucking piece of shit into anything resembling a bow. It’s like navigating a pussy; do you start from the bottom or the top? It’s different every time.”
“Nice, Nick. But the similarity lies in that it takes practice. And it’s not a piece of shit, it’s a Tom Ford.” Hudson turned and his eyes shot to . . . “What the hell is that under your arm?”
“This?” His brother had a shit-eating grin on his face as he hitched the furry creature up. “This is a Yorkie. Her name is Harley.” Nick waved the tiny dog’s paw. “Say hi to your Uncle Hudson.”
“Are you shitting me? And what kind of name is that?”
“It was Harper’s idea.”
“The name or this . . . thing?”
“Nah, the name was my idea. She needed a big name to rep her personality. The dog was Harper’s idea. She thought it would be good for me to have something to take care of.”
“A plant would have been an excellent start. Animal control doesn’t get involved if you forget to water it.”
“Yeah, but plants don’t talk to you, they just sit there.”
Hudson lifted a dark brow. “And the dog?”
“Talks in her own way.” Nick dipped his head toward the pooch. “Don’t you, pretty girl?” Harley wriggled in his arms and her little tongue flicked out, frantically licking his face.
“By pissing and crapping on the floor.”
“Don’t be such a grump, bro. She’s cute.” Nick nuzzled the puppy. “Aren’t you a cutie? Yes, you are.” The more his brother progressed with the godforsaken baby talk, the faster the little thing’s tail swished back and forth.
“For fuck’s sake, put the dog down and get over here so I can choke you with that tie for bringing that creature over to ruin my hardwood.”
“Puppy pads, dude. Kind of like diapers for the floor.” Nick put Harley down and pulled the ball that was his tie out of his pocket.
“This way.” Hudson turned on his heel and strode down the corridor to the master suite. Nick followed, and right behind him was Harley, clumsily working her tiny legs as fast as she could to keep up.
Hudson came to a halt in front of the full-length mirror, and at the same time the
tap-tap
of puppy nails stopped. “Stand here.”
“Damn, you’re in a pissy mood tonight.” Nick moved to the spot Hudson had pointed to and forked over the strip of fabric.
Hudson eyed the wrinkled mess. “What did you do to it?”
“Can you just tie the frickin’ thing on me, please?”
Hudson popped his brother’s collar and slung the tie around his neck, positioning the ends so the left side hung about two inches longer than the right.
Nick watched in the mirror. “This is where the train went off the tracks for me.”
Harley began to paw at Hudson’s leg. He shot the dog a look. “Down.”
She sat immediately and cocked her head to the side.
“Damn, you’re like the dog whisper. I’ve been trying to get her to do that for days.”
Hudson’s lips curved into a smug grin. “It’s all about the delivery.”
“Nah, you’re just a bossy motherfucker.”
“That too.” Hudson crossed the ends over one another, then threaded the longer piece through and pulled.
“Dude, not so tight.” Nick made a choking sound for effect. “Hey, can I ride with you, limo and all?”
“Are we picking Harper up on the way?”
“I’m meeting her there since she’s working the event.” Nick lifted his chin higher. “You going stag?”
“I have a date.”
“No shit?” Nick dropped his chin. “With who?”
“Melanie McCormick.”
“Details?”
Hudson pushed Nick’s chin back up. “Not much to tell. She’s on the Ingram board. Attractive, older.” He had to force the words out of his mouth. She wasn’t unattractive, and in practical terms they were a match made on paper. But he hated this. Loathed it. There was nothing redeeming about what he was going to subject himself to that night. “She asked me to escort her to the event.”
“Code word for sleep with her.”
“That wasn’t agreed upon,” Hudson said tightly.
“Yeah,” Nick snorted. “Whatever you say. Sure you want me to tag along in the limo? Ya know, in case you want to hit it on the way? ’Cause you seem wound a little tight, bro.”
Wound was an understatement. His skin was tight and his blood was heated to a near boil. And now he was attending a geriatric festival where prestige was granted in exchange for cash. All for a good cause, of course, and with a woman on his arm who wasn’t his wife. Though logic and her track record would indicate she considered the evening a dry run. Yeah, he was an asshole. Stag would have been honorable, but the charade had to be maintained.
Hudson swung the dangling end of the tie counterclockwise and threaded it through the loop he’d created at his brother’s neck. He pulled the tie tight, then straightened it. “There, done. Looking sharp, Nicky.”
“Damn, bro.” Nick admired his reflection. “You’re good at this knot-tying biz.”
Hudson smirked. “Another thing that takes practice. Let’s go,” he said when his cell vibrated. “Max has the car ready.”
Nick crouched down and picked back up with the baby talk routine. “You’re going to be a good girl while I’m out kickin’ it with Uncle Hudson, aren’t you?” The dog’s butt moved to the fast beat of her tail.
“Tell me you’re not planning on leaving that
thing
here?”
“She’ll be fine. She’s got the whole pee pad thing down.”
“Christ,” Hudson muttered as he strode back into the living room.
Nick caught up to him at the elevator. “If she pisses all over the place, I’ll clean it up,” he said as they stepped inside.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Hudson punched the button for the garage and put on his best game face. Tonight he needed to be Chicago’s most eligible bachelor; the womanizing playboy he used to be instead of the devoted husband he now was.