It wasnt as though she cared.

As she bolted for the Mercedes, she was a mass of contradictions, her brain a jammed- up mess, her body all loosey- goosey.

Hed thought she was a prostitute?

But why else had he been talking about money and some guy named Beau? Next week?

Oh, God, theyd had sex . . .

How had they done that? How had she let . . .

Dear Lord, his poor face, his body.

Around and around the thoughts spun in her head, until, as if by { 244 }.

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centrifugal force, everything weeded out except for the fact that Edward was not at all as he had once been. His handsome looks were gone, the scars on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose and forehead mak- ing it virtually impossible to reconstruct by memory the perfection that had once been there.

Shed been aware that hed been treated badly. Newspaper and tele- vision reports, her only source of information because he had refused to see anyone, had detailed the lengths of his hospital and rehabilitation stays" and that kind of extensive treatment did not happen without tragically good reason. But seeing him in person had been a total shock.

Hed been a polo player before the abduction. An event jumper. A runner. A basketball, tennis, and squash player. A swimmer. And be- cause Edward had been a golden boy not just in business, but in every other aspect of his life, he had excelled at all of them.

I wish I had done this before. My body was once something worth seeing.

Sutton struggled to open her cars drivers-side door, her hand slip- ping off over and over again like shed had some kind of a stroke and could no longer grip things properly. And when she finally was able to get herself into the car, she ran out of energy and just collapsed into the seat.

I should have tried to have you before, but I was too much of a coward. I was an arrogant coward" but I could have withstood anything except you turning me down.

What had he been saying"and who had he thought hed been say- ing it to? Her heart broke with the idea that he was in love with some- one like that.

Hed been so drunk. To the point where right before she bolted, shed checked to make sure his heart was still beating and he was breathing" because, yes, the idea that she might have killed him be- cause theyd . . .

Dear Lord.

How was it possible that, after years of thinking about it, theyd actually had sex. But only because hed thought she was a whore hed ordered from somewhere?

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And no, they hadnt used protection.

Fabulous. This veering off the beaten path thing tonight was just all- around wonderful . . . especially because, even though hed been drunk . . . even though shed been a head case . . . and in spite of the physical condition hed been in . . . the sex had been incredible. Maybe it was all that pent- up wondering, maybe it was compatibility, maybe it was because it had been a one- time- only, stars- aligned kind of event.

But whatever the reasons, he had just blown away the few men she had been with.

And, she feared, scorched the earth for anybody else.

Reaching forward, she pushed the start/stop button" and as the cars engine let out a purr, the headlights flared and made her panic.

There were other people on the grounds" had to be" and the last thing she wanted was to get caught. She was going to need to figure out how to deal with this, and having the gossip mill get to churning was not going to be part of her coping strategy, thank you very much"

At that very moment, another car came down the alley of trees and, instead of heading for one of the barns or outbuildings, it pulled up right next to her.

The woman who got out was . . . tall, brunette, and dressed in a full- length evening gown.

She frowned as she looked at the Mercedes.

And came over.

Sutton put her window down, because what else was she supposed to do? At the same time, she also started searching for the right lever, button, whatever, to get the sedan into reverse.

I thought I was on the schedule for this tonight? the woman asked pleasantly enough.

I . . . ah . . . As Sutton stammered, a flush ran through her. Ah . . .

Are you one of the new girls Beau was talkin about? Im Delilah.

Sutton shook the hand that was offered. How do you do.

Oh, you sound so posh! The woman smiled. So did you take care of him?

Ah . . .

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Its okay if you did. Sometimes these things happen, and Ive got two other calls tonight. She reached up and yanked what turned out to be a wig off her head. At least I can be free of this. Is he okay?

Im sorry?

The woman rubbed at her cropped blond hair as she nodded in the direction of the cottage. Him? We all look after him, the poor guy.

Beau wont tell us who he is, but he must be someone important. Hes always so generous, and he treats us all real good. Such a sad case, really.

Yes. It is very sad.

Well, Ill head out. You want me to let Beau know were all set?

Ah . . .

Ill take care of next week, then.

No, Sutton heard herself say. He told me . . . the man said he wanted me again?

Oh, okay, no problem. Ill pass that word along.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Maybe this was some kind of a bizarre fever dream?

As Sutton resumed her search for the right lever, the prostitute leaned back down. Are you looking for reverse?

Ah, yes, yes, I am.

Its that one right there. Move it up for reverse. All the way down is drive, and you push in the end for park.

Thank you. Its hard.

One of my regulars has this exact car. Its a real beauty! Drive safe.

Making a noncommittal noise, Sutton backed her way around care- fully, very aware that the other woman was standing oh, so close with that brunette wig in her hand.

Heading off to the main road, she decided this had to be the result of her having contracted the flu and taken to her bed. Any moment she was going to wake up . . .

Really.

She was.

Holy shit, how did all that just happen?

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T W ENT Y- EIGHT.

T he day of the Derby dawned bright and clear, although, as Lizzie drove in to work, there could have been thunder and lightning, torrential flooding, and hurricane winds, and she would still have smiled the entire ride to Charlemont.

Lane and she had played rock, paper, scissors to decide who went in first, and in spite of the fact that he had won three times in a row, theyd decided she should leave before him. One, she had a lot to do, and two, he had been in no hurry to go anywhere.

Every time she blinked, she saw him laying back in her sheets, his naked chest on display, his very naked lower body hidden underneath.

She had never felt so rested after having had little to no sleep all night long.

Passing by the main entrance to Easterly, she had to shake her head.

You never knew where you were going to end up, did you.

So much for the whole friends only thing.

Coming around to the staff road, she promptly had to hit her brakes and join a long line of delivery trucks and cars. She was relieved to see so many of the former in light of the problem theyd had with the rental { 248 }.

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company, but nervous about how Lane and his family would pay for all the additional help considering the latter.

When she finally got to the parking lot, she had to squeeze the Yaris into a spot in the back. There were about a hundred waiters and waitresses coming to staff the party, and their vehicles all had to go somewhere. In another hour? The lower road was going to be lined with pickup trucks and motorcycles and twelve kinds of sedans.

Getting out, she hooked up with the parade of people trooping to the house on the back path. Nobody was saying anything, and that was fine with her. In her head, she was working her punch list and prioritiz- ing the things she wanted to do before the floodgates opened and over six hundred of the most important people in town for the races came through Easterlys front door.

Number one on her list?

Greta.

She had to somehow fix things with Greta because they were going to have to work as a team in order to survive the next four hours.

As she saw the conservatory looming on the far side of the garden, she braced herself. Her partner had to be in there already, was no doubt picking over all of the bouquets, making sure that not a single wilted petal or leaf marred the perfect presentations before they were taken out to the tables.

Shed probably been here since 6:45.

Just as Lizzie should have been.

And would have been, except for that whole Lane- in- her- bed thing.

Im a grown woman, she told herself. I say who, I say when, I say . . .

Great. She was quoting Pretty Woman.

The problem was, if her business partner asked her why she was late, things were going to go from really bad to totally worse. She was a horrible liar, and all the tomato red that was going to hit her face before she could stutter out a non- answer was going to give her away like a billboard.

I SPENT ALL NIGHT BONING LANE BALDWINE.

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Or whatever German phrase came close to that.

Squaring her shoulders, Lizzie hiked her bag up a little higher on her shoulder and marched over to the double doors.

As she opened them and stepped into the fragrant, thick air of the conservatory, she decided to lead with"

Youre a grown woman, Greta blurted as she looked up from a bouquet. And Im sorry. I had no right to . . . youre a grown woman and youre entitled to make your own decisions. Im really sorry.

Lizzie released her breath on a oner. Im sorry, too.

Greta pushed her tortoiseshell glasses higher on her nose. What for?

You didnt do anything wrong. I just" look, Im ten years older than you.

So its not just that I have more wrinkles on my face or more wear and tear on my body. I feel like I have to take care of you. You havent asked me to, and you probably dont need it, but thats how it is"

Greta, really. You dont have to apologize. Were both under a lot of stress"

And besides, I heard he served her with divorce papers yesterday.