Evan’s lawyer, Henry Gerhardt, was the best of the best in divorce court. Miles better than Whitney’s lawyer would ever be. Henry hadn’t been thrilled to find out that Evan and Paige had begun a relationship, even if it hadn’t started until New Year’s Eve, long after the divorce papers had already been filed. Knowing his lawyer would need to be armed with all the information, Evan had explained everything, from the wedding weekend at Susan and Bob’s, to Whitney spying on them at Paige’s condo.
Evan knew what Henry would have said if he’d asked for advice. That Evan should leave Paige alone until the divorce was final. That it was the only way to keep her safe from the ugliness.
Evan hadn’t asked, and Henry hadn’t offered. Likely because even the lawyer could see it was way too late for that. Evan couldn’t stay away.
Paige made him feel too good. And not just because of their incredible lovemaking, but simply being with her.
Yes, he’d had wickedly sexy dreams about Paige. But he never would have acted on those dreams, not in a million years. Not until Whitney blew up their marriage.
He’d be damned if he’d let her mess with his life or his happiness again. He’d already given her too many years. Now he wanted to be with Paige. And if their relationship fell apart, it for damn sure wouldn’t be because of Whitney.
It would be because Evan screwed it up.
God help him, he didn’t want to mess up. Not with Paige. Not this time.
At least where Whitney was concerned, Evan would—finally—make all the right moves. Last night, he’d gone through his inventory of artwork and valuables and determined everything she’d taken. If Whitney wanted a fight—and she obviously did—she was on.
“Do not bring your sister into this.” His words and demeanor were calm, despite the fury burning in his gut over the way Whitney dared to hurt Paige.
“You brought her into this,” Whitney snapped. “I saw you kissing her. You disappeared into her condo and came back out with that look you get after sex.”
They both knew he’d never had that look with her when they were married. What he shared with Paige was miles beyond simple physical release. “Long before I ever kissed Paige, I found out you’d lied about three miscarriages and a tubal ligation you never even bothered to discuss with me.”
Whitney would never get one hundred percent of his holdings. She wouldn’t even get fifty. He’d meant it when he told Paige that he’d hand over every penny just to protect her—but he knew Whitney, and even if he gave her everything he had, she would still stop at nothing to destroy her sister.
Whitney sniffed, affecting the injured party again, just as her lawyer said, “We could argue about this all day, but there is an alternative. Mrs. Collins will forgive everything you have done and you will agree to forget all your alleged claims against her—if you reconcile.” He spread his hands. “Problem solved.”
Evan shouldn’t have felt like the floor had opened up and his chair had plunged eighteen floors to the marble lobby of Hart, Pool, and Gerhardt. He should have known this was coming. That Whitney would think of the most devious way to play this out.
Not to mention the most hurtful to Paige.
“We could start fresh, Evan.” Whitney looked at him with watery eyes. “The past would all be erased. Wouldn’t you like that? To go back to the way we were in the beginning? Before Paige came between us? We were so in love. We can have all that again. That’s what I really want. And I know, in your heart, you do too.”At long last, the shock wore off and his brain started working again. He licked his own teeth, then pointed at hers. “You’ve got some lipstick on your teeth.”
Looking horrified, she reached for her mouth to rub it off.
He could have gotten nastier. He could have told her to go screw herself. He could have said that she was the last woman on planet Earth that he would ever consider touching again. He could have made it clear that he’d rather be celibate for the rest of his life than get back together with her.
But he was a Maverick. And he knew better than anyone how to control a negotiation.
Even when he was sitting across from the devil.
“I’m going to pass.”
She stared at him a moment, as if she couldn’t even begin to fathom that he would turn her down. It was her turn to plunge eighteen floors.
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line as the real Whitney came out to play. “Then I will drag your lover, my sister—” She stabbed her chest with a pointed finger. “—who you’ve been screwing behind my back, through the mud. I will ruin her career. I will destroy her.”
It was his worst nightmare. That Whitney would hurt Paige again. And that she would annihilate anything he and Paige could have together.
His hands were starting to tense when he stopped. Breathed. Thought of Paige.
Paige, who was as caring as Susan.
Paige, who’d only ever tried to help him.
Paige, who had remained his friend through everything.
Paige, who had risked opening her heart to him completely.
Paige, who was fearless. Magnificent.
And who loved him.
“Two can sling mud,” he said in a deliberately soft voice. “Do you really want your friends and all of San Francisco high society to know why I left you? The gossip magazines would have a field day with that.”
She eyed him like he was a rattler she’d suddenly found coiled at her feet. “It’s your word against mine,” she said, but her tone wasn’t quite so haughty anymore.