Claire stood as she responded, each phrase hitting him with painfully accurate aim. “You share this with me now, but not when we were married. That tells me that you never trusted me, the only person to really know you. Plus, you threw me away and left me to rot in prison.” Her hands slapped her sides with exaggerated movements as her volume increased. “You say you love or loved me, past or present. You don’t know what love is. You have an obsession, and it really needs to stop. Stop watching me. Stop having me watched. Your fun is done. It’s over.”

He couldn’t continue meeting her stare. If he did, he’d surely confess more than he was ready to admit. Instead, Tony concentrated on the swirling red liquid in his glass and weighed his response. His tone held none of the anger she’d directed at him. “I don’t know how to explain it. It was a loophole. Don’t you understand?”

Her eyes widened, filling his vision with green.

When she didn’t respond, he elaborated, “I tried to help you. Anyone else would have jumped at the insanity plea. I had a hospital all set; your commitment time would’ve been negotiable. But no.” Energy returned with each word. He stood and walked back toward the windows. “No! You refused! By doing that, you took your sentence away from me and gave it to the state of Iowa. I no longer had influence over your release.” He turned to face her, and his volume increased, “Why did you have to be so damn obstinate?”

“Me? You’re accusing me of being obstinate? I didn’t want you in control of my life any longer. I was willing to let the state of Iowa decide, rather than you.”

He tilted his head. “It was the only way to save you.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Save me from what?”

“Me.”

Claire resumed her seat as his one-word confession silently loomed larger than life, saturating the suite like a gas, filling the room, seeping into every crevice, and stealing the very air from their lungs. Tony had just admitted that the man he’d once been was someone he no longer wanted to be. What would Claire do with this revelation? His entire world hung by a string as he awaited her reply. Suddenly, their bubble shattered; her phone vibrated and flashed on the table before them. Without thinking, Tony read the screen: HARRY CELL.

His heart twisted. “Are the news stories accurate?”

“You should know the accuracy of news reports.”

The phone continued to vibrate. “Perhaps I should answer it?” he offered, the earlier sentiment in his tone now replaced with clipped sarcasm.

“No, thank you. I’ll be just a minute.” Claire reached for the cell phone and stepped into the bedroom. Before the door closed completely, he heard her say, “Hi.”

The difference in her tone was painfully obvious. With only one word, she’d thrust a knife deep into his chest. It was his fault, all of it. He’d done terrible things. How could he ever expect her to understand?

Tony poured another glass of wine and walked back to the dark windows. He’d come to San Diego for one reason. Neither reminiscing about the Red Wing nor making monumental confessions had been on his agenda. Besides, Roach had confirmed that Baldwin was still in Palo Alto; therefore, if Claire told him that Tony was there, their private time would more than likely be cut short. A part of Tony relished the idea of confronting the mighty president of security at a two-bit gaming company. It wouldn’t even be a contest; nevertheless, that confrontation was also not why he’d come to California. Tony heard the bedroom door open and watched Claire’s reflection in the window as she walked toward him.

“I apologize for the interruption,” she said as she neared him.

“Do you now, Ms. Nichols?”

Her fiery gaze penetrated his composure. “I do. You’re correct; I am Ms. Nichols, not Mrs. Rawlings.”

Tony faced his ex-wife. The knife in his chest twisted. Her name was his doing and he knew it. Although she was merely inches away, the expanse suddenly seemed massive. At this late hour, he didn’t have the energy to attempt to lessen it. He replied, “I’m sure you’re busy. If I were he, I’d be getting on a jet right now. According to my calculations, that gives us about ninety minutes to discuss what I came to discuss.”

Claire walked toward the sitting area, refilled her glass, and sat. “What do you want to discuss?”

“You will discontinue your discussions with Meredith Banks and any further plans you’ve entertained regarding speaking with the media.”

She leaned back and smiled. “Will I now?”

“Don’t push me. I’m tired and suddenly not in the mood.”

“Well, I’d like to discuss something else.”

His neck tensed. “I would like to stay on topic.”

“Then it seems we’re at an impasse. Perhaps you should go. We can continue this another day—or not.”

“You’re not changing the subject.” Tony’s volume increased. “The nondisclosure of our relationship is non-negotiable.”

“I don’t recall signing anything—well, other than a blank napkin. We didn’t even have a prenuptial agreement, so I have no legal restraints on what I can and cannot disclose.”

Tony stepped closer. “Legal, no, but what about ethical or moral?”

“Did those concerns come into play during your acquisition or our relationship?”