The Marriage Profile

“I realize I should have called you first, instead of just showing up here like this,” she said, feeling defensive. “But to be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d agree to see me. So I decided to just take my chances and come by.”

A hint of red burnished the sharp lines of his cheeks. “Yeah, well, can’t say that I blame you. I didn’t do such a good job of handling things last night. Seeing you…well, it took me by surprise. I was out of line.”

Angela knew what a proud, stubborn man Justin was, so the unexpected admission that he was wrong left her reeling. She opened her mouth, then closed it, unsure what to say.

It was Justin who spoke. “Anyway, I apologize for the way I acted last night.”

“Apology accepted,” she finally managed to say.

“I’d have apologized to you sooner, but I couldn’t find you at either of the hotels.”

“I didn’t stay at a hotel.”

“Yeah, I figured that much,” he said, a slight edge in his voice. “And I don’t suppose you drove all the way back to San Antonio last night and then turned around and drove back here this morning.”

“No, I didn’t.”

His lips tightened at her response, but he made no comment. And the short break in the tension between them evaporated as quickly as it had come. Once again Angela rued her decision to accept this assignment. “May I?” she asked, motioning to the chair in front of his desk.

“Suit yourself,” Justin replied, and once she was seated, he sat down in the black swivel chair behind the battered mahogany desk.

Striving to smooth the way for the bombshell she intended to drop on him, she said, “For what it’s worth, I didn’t make the decision to attend the dedication ceremony at the hospital until the last minute. Otherwise, I would have called and warned you that I’d be there.”

“As you pointed out last night, I don’t own Mission Creek and you’re no longer my wife. Where you go and who you go there with isn’t any of my business.”

The cool reminder stung. “True. But considering that we share a history, telling you that I’d planned to be there would have been the courteous thing to do. I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

“Fine. Now that we’ve both got our apologies out of the way, you’re going to have to excuse me because I need to get back to work.” Without waiting for her answer, he reached for the stack of mail in his incoming basket. “You can just leave the door open on your way out.”

His dismissal stunned Angela almost as much as it irritated her. “Believe it or not, I didn’t come here because I felt I owed you an apology or because I expected one from you.”

“Whatever you say. But I can’t imagine anything else we have to discuss and I really do need to get back to work.” Obviously believing the matter was at an end, he went back to perusing the papers in front of him.

Angered by his arrogance, Angela shoved to her feet. “Aren’t you even the least bit interested in knowing why I’m here?”

“Not particularly,” he told her without so much as a glance in her direction.

Suddenly Angela’s patience snapped. She came around the desk, slapped her hands down on the papers in front of him. “Dammit, Wainwright, look at me!”

Slowly he lifted his gaze to hers. And the heat in those green eyes sucked the breath right out of her. “All right, Mason. I’m looking.”

Angela’s pulse jumped. Her head began to spin, and she tried to remember exactly what it was she’d been about to say to him.

“As much as I enjoy looking at you, Angel, I’m pressed for time. So if you’ve got something on your mind, I suggest you spit it out.”

Angela felt a sharp pang at Justin’s use of the pet name he’d given her during the early days of their courtship. She started to speak, but her throat seemed impossibly tight, and she closed her mouth again. She couldn’t think about the past now, she reminded herself.

“You going to tell me why you’re all worked up? Or am I supposed to guess?”

Angela swallowed, tried to clear her head. But before she could answer him, he shoved away from the desk and walked away from her, only to whirl around and march back over to stand in front of her.

“Since you seem to be at a loss for words, why don’t I tell you why I think you’re here,” he began, his mouth hard, his expression even harder. “I think you’re here because you want a little payback.”

“Payback?” Angela repeated.

“Yeah, payback. I gave you a rough time about the divorce, and last night you decided to pay me back by flaunting your relationship with Ricky Mercado in front of me and everyone else in this town. Well, it worked. I blew my cool last night when I saw the two of you together. But that was last night. It isn’t going to work today. You’re not going to be able to use Mercado to push my buttons.”

“Is that really what you believe? That I would do such a thing?”

The look he gave her could have melted ice. “You saying it isn’t? Are you going to stand there and deny that you wanted to rub my nose in the fact that you’re sleeping with Mercado?”

Taken aback by his accusation, Angela remained speechless for several moments. While Justin had never liked nor understood her friendship with Ricky, she had always believed it was because of the Mercado’s family business and Ricky’s ties to organized crime. It had never crossed her mind that Justin might have seen Ricky as a romantic rival. Staring at the man she’d given her heart to so long ago, she wondered how she could have been so blind. “You’re jealous of Ricky,” she murmured more to herself than to him as realization dawned. Which made no sense—especially now when Justin had all but said he wanted nothing to do with her.

“The hell I am!” He jammed a hand through his hair, paced the length of the room. “I just don’t like seeing you hooked up with a scumbag like Mercado.”

“But you’re wrong. Ricky and I—” She swallowed, deciding she needed to be blunt. “Justin, I’m not sleeping with Ricky.”

He whipped around, pinned her with those stormy eyes. “You expect me to believe that when I know damn well that you didn’t stay in a hotel last night?”

“Believe whatever you want,” she told him while she tried to convince herself that what Justin thought about her didn’t matter. “But the truth is I didn’t spend the night with Ricky. I spent the night in my own bed.”

Justin narrowed his eyes. “That’s quite a trick since you’ve already said you didn’t go back to San Antonio.”

“But I did return to my condo. Or perhaps I should say to my new condo—the one that I’m leasing, which happens to be located just outside of Goldenrod and is the place where I spent the night in my own bed, alone.”

Justin marched back over to her. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about something like that? It’s easy enough for you to check. I moved into the place two days ago.”

“Why?” he demanded, eyeing her warily.

“Because I didn’t want to be living out of a suitcase while I’m working here.”

Justin’s head snapped up at that. “Working here? On what?”

“Finding the baby that was kidnapped from the Carsons’ ranch. The FBI said they’d had a request for my help.”

“The hell they did,” Justin shouted. “There’s no way that I asked for you, and if anyone in Lone Star County had, I’d know about it.”

“Evidently, someone did,” Angela replied, recalling her conversation with her FBI contact and her dismay upon hearing no one had advised Justin about her involvement in the case.

Justin snatched up the phone. “Audrey Lou, get the person we had as a contact with the FBI on the phone for me. Now.” When he slammed the receiver back down, he said, “I’ll speak with the Bureau and have them take you off the case.”

“I don’t want off the case.”

“No offense, Mason, but I don’t need your help.”

“No offense taken, Wainwright. But you obviously do need my help. So does the FBI. From what I understand, the little girl’s been missing for almost three months now. And you and I both know that in a kidnapping every day that goes by without her being found makes the chances of getting her back even slimmer.”