that you’ve got Kate.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Are you going to give me hell for wanting to be a good husband? A normal husband?”
Roger held his hands up in mock self-defense. “Jesus, Michael, Moscow was just something you had to finish.”
Michael sighed. “I don’t want that anymore. I want to give Kate a great life. I want to make her happy.”
“You can’t tell her anything about the Trust.”
Michael gave him a withering look. “I would never. You know that.”
Roger nodded. “I gotta tell you, buddy…” He trailed off, shaking his head, and Michael readied himself for more ribbing about true love. “I’m jealous,” Roger said simply. “I miss feeling like that.”
Michael looked at him. “I thought you never wanted another relationship after Marta.”
Roger shrugged. “You never know.”
They shared a silence during which Michael gave his friend an opportunity to elaborate. He didn’t.
“I’m telling you, I’m fine running the Twilight Club,” Michael said. “I’m excited that the Trust will have a meeting place, and I like being in on the ground floor of it. But that’s it for me. That’s my involvement now, and that’s all.”
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“Well, I just want you to know. You’re a member of the board.”
“You used to be as well.”
“That’s right. Used to be.”
Roger took another sip. “Fine, I’ve gotten the message, for what it’s worth.”
“It better be worth something. I’ve given my whole life to this.”
“Who hasn’t?”
“Michael!” Kate’s voice rang out. She and Liza were holding on to each other, cracking up. “You have to hear this story.”
Michael could feel the grin stretch across his face. Genuine, spontaneous smiles still felt foreign to him.
“Go,” Roger said.
The two men looked at each other.
“Thanks,” Michael said.
Roger gave him a clap on the back, and as Michael walked toward his wife, he let that smile take over his face again.
9
A few hours later, after most of the wine had been drunk and the bride and groom had waved goodbye, Roger Leiland approached the bar and the one person he’d wanted to talk to all night.
She stood with her back to him, one strap of her pink dress falling over a lightly freckled shoulder. Roger felt himself stirring, turned on by the sight of her. But that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to talk.
There were only a few people left at the pub. Kate’s brothers and their wives were tucked in at the end of the bar, completely blotto and shrieking with laughter. At one of the tables, Michael’s contractor from the Twilight Club plied his date with a bottle of champagne.
“Hello, Elena,” Roger said, stepping up to her, using her alias.
She turned to him. In her eyes, he saw a look of worry. She quickly cleared her expression. He was surprised she’d let any emotion show, even for that fraction of a second, since she was notoriously stoic. He wondered what it was that troubled her.
“Hello, Paul,” she said, using his alias as well.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Cut the bullshit,” she said, although not harshly. He liked how she talked simply and sometimes crudely, like a man, but how when you looked at her—with that body and that red hair and those intense green eyes—you were always very aware that Liza was a woman.
He looked around to make sure no one was listening. The bartender was taking care of Kate’s brothers. “So why did you introduce them?”
She gave him a hard stare, then picked up her glass of white wine and took a sip. “I didn’t think they would get married. Jesus, I just thought they could go on a date or two. I mean, Kate is my best friend, and she’d been moping around for almost a year since her marriage fell apart. And you know Michael. He hadn’t been out with someone in forever.”
“That’s because he didn’t want to bring anyone into this world.”
“Give me a break. He’s settling down here in St. Marabel. Why shouldn’t he be with someone who makes him happy?”
“Because it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous for your friend.”
She swallowed more wine, her brows knitting. “They’ll be fine. Michael has a totally different role now, right?”
He nodded. “That’s right. He’s requested step-down status, and running the Twilight Club is the assignment we’ve given him.”
“But you won’t let him out.”
“He can’t be out entirely. You know the rules.”
Liza sighed and turned to face the bar. “God, do I.”
He stepped closer. He could smell the lotion on her skin—scented with vanilla and something a little darker—and he felt himself grow hard. He could have stopped it. Like her, Roger had gotten very good at concealing emotion when he wanted to. But he didn’t want to. Just for tonight, and with someone exactly like Liza, he wanted to let sensation get the better of him. Although she was his subordinate, she was a star in his world. The thought of capturing that star, consuming her, was intoxicating.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” he said.
She stared at her wineglass. “It’s tough. You know how it is.”
“This is your legacy.”
“Sometimes I don’t care.”
“If it helps, I can tell you that the research we’re doing in Chicago is going well. Incredibly well, actually. I’d love to show you sometime.”
Liza gave him a confused look. “I know nothing about that research, and since I’m not involved, you shouldn’t be telling me. That’s protocol.”
He shook his head. “Rules can be bent.” If she only knew how he’d bent the rules.
“Since when?” Liza said.
He stepped even closer, to the side of her now. “I want to make you feel better.”
She looked up at him, and her face shifted to one of surprise. She’d seen his open desire.
“Roger,”
