Barbara Dunlop - Marriage, Manhattan Style

“What’s going on?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

He longed to draw her into his arms, maybe slip his hands into the soft terry cloth and pull her tight against his body. It would take so little to nudge the robe open, reveal the negligee beneath, and to gaze on her luscious body. Collin would figure out that he should leave.

“Is it the right time?” Reed asked instead, knowing it wasn’t possible that she was ovulating, but still hoping against hope.

She slowly shook her head.

He allowed himself to move a step closer. “Then what are you doing?”

“I thought…” She paused. “I wanted…” Her green eyes blinked up at him. “I didn’t know Collin was here.”

Reed almost twitched a smile. “No kidding.”

Her hand went to her forehead. “He must think-”

“At the moment, he thinks I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

She fixed him with a probing gaze. “But you’re not.”

“Not tonight.”

Her gaze slid away.

“Elizabeth?”

She looked back. “I thought…We aren’t…”

He was pretty sure he knew where she was going. It was tempting, damn tempting. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to make passionate love on their big, four-poster bed and pretend none of their problems existed.

He was willing to put off talking about the SEC investigation. But he wasn’t willing to compromise on their family. If they made love now, Elizabeth wouldn’t get pregnant again this month, and her tears would break Reed’s heart.

“Can you hold that thought until next week?” he asked.

Hurt and disappointment clouded her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but then she clenched her teeth, compressing her lips and squeezing her eyes shut for a couple of seconds.

When she opened them, her expression had smoothed out, and she seemed under control again. “Is there something going on? Why is Collin-”

“Nothing’s going on,” Reed quickly assured her.

Nothing but what had to be a completely bogus investigation, which Collin would quash as soon as humanly possible.

Reed hadn’t engaged in insider trading, or any other illegal or unethical business practice for that matter. Still, he couldn’t help speculating on the maximum sentence. In the current climate for white-collar crime, he imagined they’d try to throw the book at him.

That’s why they had to make this go away, and fast. It had to go away before the press or anybody else got wind of it. Including Elizabeth. Especially Elizabeth.

Their specialist said infertility was often related to stress, and she was stressed enough about trying to get pregnant, not to mention planning their fifth anniversary party. The last thing she needed was to worry about a potential court case.

“I have to head down to Collin’s apartment for a little while,” he told her.

Her voice went flat, the disbelief evident. “A little while?”

“It’s a routine matter,” said Reed, vowing to wrap the discussion up quickly.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Why don’t you work on the catering menu while I’m gone?” Three hundred guests were invited to the upcoming party; there had to be a million details that required her attention.

“Sure,” she said, without enthusiasm. “I’ll study the dessert menu for a while.”

The sarcastic remark was unlike Elizabeth, and Reed knew he should ask her what was wrong. But he was afraid to get into it, afraid it might lead him to embrace her, to kiss her, to throw all of his good intentions out the window. There was only so much temptation a man could take.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” he said huskily instead, allowing himself one quick, chaste kiss on her forehead.

His hand brushed her hair, sending tingles of desire all the way up to his shoulder. Her fingers closed over his wrist for the briefest of moments. It was enough to make him question his decision to leave.

But he had to walk out. He’d promised himself he’d do everything in his power to give her a baby. And he would.

Without meeting her eyes, he turned for the door, marched down the hall to where Collin hovered beside the desk, a decidedly uncertain expression on his face.

“Let’s go,” said Reed, slipping into his suit jacket and leading the way to the penthouse door.

Collin didn’t ask any questions. Discretion was one of the things Reed liked best about the man.

“I’ve got the SEC letter,” Collin confirmed as the door closed behind them, and they headed for Gage Lattimer’s penthouse. Collin’s friend, Gage, had also been named in the SEC’s letter as being part of the investigation.

“Envelope, too?” asked Reed. He didn’t want a shred of evidence lying around for Elizabeth to stumble across.

“Everything,” said Collin, stopping in front of the wide oak door. “And I closed your Web browser.”

“Thanks.” Reed nodded, giving a sharp knock.

They waited in silence, listening to a clang and clash from inside. The door was finally opened. But it wasn’t Gage standing in front of them. It was a tall, attractive brunette with a guarded, almost guilty look in her green eyes.

“Is Gage available?” asked Reed, hoping he wasn’t disturbing something. Although the woman was fully dressed.

“I’m terribly sorry-” The woman cleared her throat. “Mr. Lattimer isn’t in at the moment.”

Was that a British accent?

“And you are?” asked Collin.

“Jane Elliott. Mr. Lattimer’s new housekeeper.”

Reed’s gaze caught on the untidy penthouse over her shoulder.

She pulled the door against her back, blocking his view. “May I tell him who called?”

“Reed Wellington.”

Collin handed the woman a business card. “Can you ask him to call me as soon as possible?”

“Of course,” she replied with a nod, then slipped back into the suite and closed the door.

“I hope he’s not paying her much,” Reed mused as they turned for the elevator.

“I’d pay her pretty much anything she asked,” said Collin.

Reed couldn’t help but smile as he punched the call button for the elevator. Then he quickly brought his thoughts back to the problem at hand. “So what in the hell do you think is going on with this?” Reed asked as the doors slid open to an empty car.

“I think maybe you should have paid the blackmail.”

Reed drew back. As a wealthy man, he was often the target of both financial appeals and threats. But a particularly bizarre blackmail demand had arrived two weeks ago.

“Ten million dollars?” he asked Collin. “Are you out of your mind?”

“The two could be related.”

“The blackmail letter said, ‘the world will learn the dirty secret of how the Wellingtons make their money.’ It didn’t say anything about an SEC investigation.” Not that Reed would have paid up in any event. But he might have taken the letter a little more seriously if the threat had been that specific.

“Insider trading is a dirty little secret.”

“It’s also a ridiculous fabrication.”

When Reed first read the blackmail letter, he’d dismissed it as a hoax. There were plenty of lunatics out there. Then he’d wondered if some of their overseas suppliers might be engaged in unethical labor practices. But he’d checked them all out. He could find absolutely nothing to substantiate any “dirty little secret” of the Wellingtons’ wealth.

He had no dirty little secret. It was beyond preposterous to suggest he’d engaged in insider trading. And impossible to prove, since he hadn’t done it. It wasn’t even logical. The vast majority of his and his father’s and, for that matter, their ancestors’ wealth was derived from the performance of their companies. Reed did very little trading on the stock market.

And what little he did do was recreational, just to see if he could beat the odds. Where was the challenge in cheating? He didn’t need the money. And cheating wouldn’t be any fun. So why the hell would he engage in insider trading?

“They’ve got something,” said Collin as the elevator came to a rest on the second floor. “The SEC doesn’t start investigations on spec.”

“So, who do we call?” asked Reed.

As well as being a vice president, Collin was a damn fine lawyer. He inserted his key and opened the apartment door. “The SEC for starters.”

Reed glanced at his watch. Nine-fifteen. “You know anybody we can disturb?”

“Yeah.” Collin tossed his briefcase on the table of the more compact, one-bedroom apartment that was owned by Wellington International. “I know a guy.” He picked up a cordless phone. “You feel like pouring the scotch?”

“On it.”

Collin’s call was brief.

When he finished, he accepted a crystal tumbler of single malt and sat back in an armchair. “They’ll send us a full dossier in the morning, but it’s something to do with Ellias Technologies.”

Reed recognized the company name. “That was Gage’s deal. He thought they were going to go big, so we both bought in.” But he couldn’t believe Gage Lattimer, his friend and neighbor, would have recommended a stock based on insider information. But he went over the scenario, thinking out loud as he stepped through the deal.

“It did shoot up fast. Particularly when that navigations system-”

A lightbulb went on inside Reed’s head.

“What?” Collin prompted.

“Kendrick.”

“The senator?”

Reed nodded. “Damn it. How much you want to bet he was on the approval committee?”

The trepidation in Collin’s voice was obvious. “Not the one that awarded the navigations contract.”

“Yeah.” Reed took a swallow of his scotch. “That one.”

Collin cursed under his breath.

Reed echoed the sentiment. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but if Kendrick was on the approval committee, it would sure look like he had.

“I buy shares in Ellias,” Reed speculated out loud. “Kendrick-who the whole world knows is an avid supporter of my Envirocore.com-approves a lucrative contract for Ellias. Ellias stock soars. I make a few hundred thousand. And suddenly the SEC is involved.”

“You missed a step,” said Collin.

“The blackmailer,” Reed agreed. If the blackmailer was the one who alerted the SEC, then Reed hadn’t taken him nearly seriously enough.

The blackmailer obviously had information on Reed’s stock portfolio. He also knew Reed was the owner of Envirocore. And he knew that Kendrick was on the Senate navigation system contract approval committee. What’s more, he knew how to put it all together to hurt Reed.

This was no lightweight.

Collin gazed at the storm-tossed seascape on his far wall. “Nobody in his right mind is going to think you broke the law for a few hundred thousand.”

“Are you kidding? Everybody’s ready to knock old money off their pedestal.”

“Can you prove you’re innocent?”

Reed scoffed. “Prove that a phone call, a meeting or an e-mail didn’t take place? I don’t see how I can do that.”

“Did you call the police on the blackmail letter?”

“I filed it with the rest of the crank stuff.” Mistake. Obviously.

“You want to call them tonight?”

Reed nodded. “We might as well get this party started.”

The black-tie hospital fund-raiser at the Bergere Grande Hotel was in full swing on Saturday night. Guests had been served a gourmet dinner in the Crystal Room, and now they were moving through the marble-pillared foyer to the East Ballroom for cocktails and dancing.

Elizabeth had spotted Collin approaching, so she’d quickly set a course for the ladies’ room. She knew she’d have to look the man in the eye at some point, but she was putting off the moment as long as possible. She didn’t want to think about how much the red negligee had revealed.

She emerged from checking her hair and freshening her lipstick and accepted a flute of champagne from a smartly dressed waiter. Then she concentrated on a series of silent auction items on her way to the main ballroom. She wanted to give Collin and Reed plenty of time to finish their conversation.

Hanna sidled up to her. “So, how’d it go last night?”

Elizabeth bought a little time by putting her head down over an auction item. It was a ruby and diamond choker, and the top bid was ten thousand dollars. She added a thousand and signed her name.

“Nice,” said Hanna, nodding to the jewels that were secured in a glass case. “If you win, can I borrow it sometime?”

“Sure.”

Hanna latched on to Elizabeth’s arm and drew her away from the crowd. “So, did you do it?”

Elizabeth admitted as much with a nod.

“What happened?”

“I crashed and burned.”

Hanna’s sculpted brows knit together. “I don’t understand. Was he asleep or something?”

“I got dressed up in a red, slinky negligee.” Elizabeth omitted the part about the coin toss, not wanting Hanna to know she’d had second thoughts. “Then I surprised him in his office.”