Page 80 of Guilty as Sin

When I turn onto our street, she sighs contentedly. The view is idyllic. The rising sun peeking through the buildings. The tree-lined sidewalks empty. The parked cars still asleep. I turn off a block early for the garage. I don’t want my wife to have to see the place where she was attacked.

The place where I failed her.

I grip the steering wheel so tight my knuckles crack. Cora eyes me skeptically.

“It’s just a sidewalk,” she says.

I snap my gaze to her. The woman’s a goddamn mind reader. I try to discern her expression about it, but we’ve pulled into the garage, and her gorgeous face is in shadow.

When we get up to our penthouse, Cora turns toward her room, but I catch her by the hand.

“I’m going to bed,” she says.

“Sleep with me.” I phrase it like a command, but by the way she tilts her head, she knows it’s not.

“I was planning to take a shower first.”

“Shower with me.” I pull her by the hand, and she lets me lead her into my bedroom.

Our bedroom.

The cascading water over her naked body is even better than I’d imagined. After I’ve toweled her off, jealous of the luxe Turkish cotton against her soft skin, I pick her up and carry her to the bed.

“Our bed,” I tell her as I lie down beside her. She settles catlike onto her side, facing me.

“Our bed?” she asks.

“Of course.” I brush a damp tendril of hair from her face.

“Our life?”

I pause, my fingers hovering at her temple. There’s too much anticipation in her question.

Our life. What the hell would that look like? Me and Cora together, but the background’s a blur.

She waits for me to answer. The rise and fall of her naked breasts is utterly distracting. I realize the background doesn’t matter. This woman is perfect, and she’s perfect for me.

“Yes,” I say at last. “Our life.”

“I need to be more involved.” She doesn’t miss a beat, and I feel like she’s blasted me in the chest. There was a goddamn 12-gauge behind her question.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ve proved I can handle it.” She props herself up on her elbow so she can look down at me on the pillow next to hers. But I match her pose to bring us level again.

“It’s not a question of whether you can handle it. I know you can.”

“Then let me in. I’m an asset. I’ll be an asset to you and everything you do. It’s the smart move,” she baits.

I know it’s the smart move. Not halving my power, but doubling it. I still don’t like the thought of her anywhere near danger. Of me putting her in harm’s way by allowing this shit.

“I’m fucking deadly,” she reminds me. The challenge in her eyes makes me want to challenge her in return.

“How did you kill him?” I ask, pleased to see her look taken aback. Then she hardens her features again.