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Secrets and Sins:Raphael(37)

By:Naima Simone


"Yeah, I did. But I'm talking firsthand knowledge." He cocked his head  to the side, studied her quietly. "I've met her in person."

"What? When?" No way she'd heard him correctly.

"Once I finished giving my statement, I went looking for you." He rubbed  a knuckle over the scar on his eyebrow. "I figure you wouldn't be at  your apartment since it was a crime scene, so I found your parents'  address and went there. Your mother met me at the door. Apparently, she  was aware of who I was-"

"I'd told them about being with you hoping they'd believe me about not killing Gavin."

He snorted, and the small, derisive sound conveyed his opinion about her  parents. "At that time, I'd known you for a matter of hours, and I  laughed in the detectives' faces when they told me about suspecting you  of murder. It's beyond ridiculous. Your parents raised you. How they  didn't believe you is a freakin' mystery. Anyway … " he continued as if he  hadn't just blown her to hell and back with his offhand display of  unconditional trust and support. Her parents' disbelief had sliced so  deep she still bled from it. But he'd laughed in the detectives' faces?  She choked on a chuckle. Yeah, she could imagine that. Easily. "She told  me you didn't live there any longer, then ordered me away from the  house and you. Said if I dared speak to the press, she and your father  would slap a libel suit on me."

"I can't believe it," Greer whispered, dumbfounded. Not at her mother's  actions. The threat hadn't been for Greer's concern, but her father's  and hers. Couldn't have his business associates or her snobby circle  tittering about their daughter's one-night stand. Not that it mattered.  In the end, a "police source" had leaked her alibi to the media, and  overnight, she'd transformed from a jealous murderer to a slutty jealous  murderer.

His actions stunned her, left her reeling.

He'd cared.

Raphael shrugged. "I found your cell phone number on the consultation  forms you and Gavin had completed. I tried calling, but you never  answered."

"I'd probably stopped using that number by then." Once the harassing  calls from the press and "friends" sniffing out gossip started, she'd  started using the new number. That had been a temporary fix. Before  long, reporters had ferreted out the information and hounded her again.  That's when she'd switched to a throwaway phone. Only in the past three  or four weeks had they tapered off-once the police had downgraded her  from primary suspect to person of interest due to lack of evidence.

"I figured you just didn't want to talk to me. So I did what any sane,  rational man would do after a woman makes it pretty clear she wants  nothing to do with him …  I parked outside your brother's office and  followed him home. Since according to your mother you weren't at their  home, his place was the next obvious choice. A couple of hours of  waiting later, I saw you leave with Ethan and another man. You seemed  okay and in good hands, so I left."

"Probably Jason, Ethan's partner," she murmured, fascinated by his  story. She shook her head, surprise continuing to careen through her at  breakneck speed. "Mother never said a word."

He'd tried to contact her. He hadn't chalked her up to an irrelevant  one-night stand or tried to distance himself from her and the horrible  publicity. What would've happened if she'd answered the phone? Would  they have started seeing each other? Would he have come to care about  her? Would he have accepted her baby as his?

She shook her head. What-ifs and "should've/could've/would'ves" were  pointless and added unnecessary pain. She hadn't received his call. He  didn't trust her or believe he fathered their child. And he might want  her, but he wasn't declaring vows of love. Not even close. When this was  over-when this Tag person was caught-he would watch her pack her bags  and walk away. Best she remember that and save the happily-ever-after  dreams for the romance novels.                       
       
           



       

"I'm not surprised." He stood and crossed the room, halting in front of  the large built-in refrigerator at the other end of the room. Moments  later, he offered her a cold bottle of water.

"Thank you." She twisted the cap off and sipped. And waited. When the  liquid didn't upset her stomach, she downed another, healthier gulp.

"So today was the first time you've talked to her in a while?" he asked,  dropping down on the edge of the club chair. His large frame consumed  half of the long cushion.

"Yes. Months." She curled her feet closer to her body because, frankly,  she didn't trust herself not to straighten her legs and place them in  his lap as if they were a real couple. "She didn't have my cell number  until Ethan gave it to her Sunday night when I was in the hospital. And  she apparently didn't waste any time calling Karen Wells and telling her  about the baby." Which, of course, had led to the ugly confrontation at  the restaurant earlier in the day. Her stomach clenched, and heat  flashed up her neck and into her face at the memory of it. "She assumed  Gavin was the father and thought Karen would be thrilled. God, she  couldn't have been further from the truth."

"Yeah, Ethan told me about what happened. I'm sorry you had to sit through that." He scowled. "He should've shut her down."

"He tried," she said quickly, defending her brother. "But I told him to  let it go. Going back and forth with her wouldn't have solved anything  besides creating more of a scene."

"She counted on your manners, Greer. Both yours and Ethan's.  Fortunately"-he grinned, and unlike his earlier smile, this one was  mean, predatory,-"I don't have the same constraints. Did you know Aubrey  Chandler was pregnant?"

"No."

He silently studied her, and she forced herself to face his scrutiny  when she yearned to duck and avoid the scalpel-sharp stare. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That you were hurt." She closed her eyes, tried to block out the  all-knowing voice … the tenderness in it. "That even now Gavin has wounded  you."

She drew in a shaky breath, lifted her lashes. The flippant denial  trembled on the tip of her tongue. But "God, he did," came out.

"Baby," he rumbled.

"It's stupid, right?" She shook her head. "I didn't even love him the  way a woman should when she's about to pledge the rest of her life and  body to a man. The sex-before our engagement-was more dutiful than  mind-blowing. And I broke off the engagement, yet …  I'm so damn hurt."

"It's not stupid, Greer," he said in the gentlest voice he'd ever used  with her. As if he were afraid she would shatter like finespun glass.  "You were betrayed by someone you trusted."

"I was sitting there as Karen unloaded all over me about Aubrey being  the love of Gavin's life, of how he'd found happiness in his last days.  And all I wanted to do was yell at her to shut up. Just shut the. Hell.  Up. She didn't know him. Even if he did love Aubrey … "

She stared down at her clenched fists.

"I'd caught him with her. Walked in on them together in his bed. He  humiliated me. We hadn't even walked down the aisle yet, and he was  already cheating, lying. I suddenly had a clear picture of what my life  would look like with him. Dinners for one at a lonely dining table.  Social events and parties where we pretended to be the happy couple,  while on either side of the room women he'd slept with cast smug looks  in my direction. Long business trips. Explanations to our future  children about why Daddy wasn't home at night or missed baseball games  or ballet recitals. As I stood in Gavin's living room waiting for him to  drag on his robe and meet me there, I stared into the mirror on the  wall and saw my mother looking back at me. In that moment, I stood at a  crossroads, and I had to make a choice. Forgive and pretend to forget  about Gavin's indiscretion and go forward with the wedding, condemning  myself to become the woman I vowed I would be nothing like. Or break off  the engagement, face the condemnation of my family and friends, but be  able to look at myself, to love myself. So I chose me."

She scrubbed her palms over her face, spilled her secret fear to  Raphael, and watched as John McClane set a trail of gasoline leading to a  fleeing plane on fire on the television screen.

"Still, Gavin and I had been friends for years. He knew me, accepted me.  Yes, the cheating and deception hurt, but we could've walked away from  each other. And maybe sometime in the future, we might have even been  able to be friends again. But he went behind my back to my father and  told him he and I could work it out. That I had overreacted, and he  still loved me. I had agreed to marry Gavin believing at least he wanted  me for myself, not my father's portfolio or connections. In the end, he  proved just how wrong and naive I was."