looks.
Enough already!
He should go in. Take a shower and take matters into his own hands like he’d toyed with minutes ago. Or better still, find Elana. Make love to his wife like he’d been doing since they got here. Or they could just talk.
When he was around her, thoughts of other men stayed suppressed in the secret vault in his mind where they belonged.
But his body refused to obey his brain. He remained on the lounger, his gaze once again straying to the man’s tight abs and ass. It was almost a relief when the attractive attendant gathered his cleaning equipment, wished Thom a good evening and vacated the terrace.
With one obstacle gone, his mind, still eager to find trouble, slid once again to Gabe. Within twenty-four hours he would be back in the Fixer’s orbit.
Under his mercy.
Hell, no.
Whatever he had to do, there was no way he was going back to being intimidated by the guy. From what he’d overheard on the phone, the Fixer had as much, if not more, to lose than Thom did. If nothing else, his new position as a member of the Marshall family would buy him some leverage. Would Gabe really threaten a member of his family?
He was pondering how best to turn that to his advantage when the sliding doors of the living room jerked open.
He managed to school his features into neutral before turning his head to watch Elana walk slowly toward him. But he needn’t have. Her head was downcast, her face severely pinched as she chewed on her bottom lip. As she drew closer, Thom noticed how pale she looked.
“Hey, are you okay? Did the meditation go that badly?” he half joked.
She shook her head distractedly and carried on walking straight past him. Thom frowned as he watched her stroll to the edge of the pool then stare blindly at the view.
If he had to guess, he would’ve said his wife had just had unwelcome news shoved down her throat. Except all she’d done was attend what should’ve been a mind-calming session. He knew she hadn’t received any phone calls from Santa Barbara regarding Harrison, because her phone was where she’d left it on the poolside table.
As if his thought connected to hers, she whirled around, stalked to the table and snatched up the phone. Frantically, her fingers flew over the surface, her frown deepening.
He sat up and planted his feet on the ground. “What’s going on, Elana?”
“What? Nothing. I’m... I’m fine.”
“Really? ’Cause you sure don’t look it. In fact, you look the opposite of post-meditation bliss.”
She flicked a shrug at him, her eyes still glued to the screen. “Yeah... I’m not cut out for it, I guess. Should’ve stuck to swimming.”
She was being cagey about something. But what? Was she sick? Surely she wouldn’t think he would berate her for being ill on their honeymoon? He wasn’t that much of an asshole, was he?
He dismissed the thought a second later. This was Elana Marshall. She didn’t need anyone’s permission to be sick.
Nevertheless...
“Honey, if you’re not feeling well, just tell me. I’m sure we can get one of the private doctors to see you—”
“No!” Her head snapped up from the phone, her eyes going wild for an intense moment. Then she smiled a very false, forced smile. “Seriously, Thom, I’m fine. I didn’t think I’d be the first to crack, but I think I’m just about ready to take a break from paradise.”
A thin band of steel tightened around his chest. “Tired of me already?”
She shook her head, but her gaze slid away from him, back to her damned phone. “No, of course not. I’m just...eager to start our lives together, you know?”
Thom nodded automatically, despite not being able to shake the thought that she was lying. Or at the very least not telling him the whole truth. He could’ve pressed her for more, he thought as she flashed a smile at him and retreated back into the villa.
But then, wasn’t he keeping huge secrets of his own?
“You need to stop reading the tabloids, Tía. You know it’ll only upset you.”
Mariella whirled around to face her nephew. From behind the desk in her home office at Casa Cat, Gabe stared back at her with calm, steady regard.
Not for the first time, she wondered how he could remain so dispassionate, act like this was nothing but a storm in a teacup, when the tablet in her hand was trembling from the sheer force of her anger and outrage.
It didn’t matter that she’d relied on Gabe’s unruffled strength so many times in the past, and on many occasions in the last few terrible weeks. Right now, she would’ve loved to see a little of the righteous anger twisting inside her reflected in his eyes.
She’d thought the furor about the wedding would come before the occasion. This was turning out to be the bullshit after the storm. How could the media treat her this way? Not a single one of the wedding guests had turned down the lavish gifts offered to them. Many had even tweeted and Instagrammed their good fortune. Every single person who’d attended the Marshall-Scott wedding had left happy.
Except the media’s portrayal of it suggested the opposite, ripping into them about every tiny aspect of her daughter’s special day. How unnecessarily extravagant the whole affair had been. One had even called the whole thing gaudy, for heaven’s sake.
And not just that.
So what if she’d blown the twice the budget she’d intended to spend? They’d worked damn hard to earn every single dime of that money.
Hadn’t they?
The thought brought her up short, reminding her there was so much she’d taken for granted that she hadn’t known before. Renewed anger flashed through her bloodstream. Was there something the media knew that she didn’t? Something else waiting in the wings to sink its poisonous fangs into her vulnerable existence?
“Damn right it upsets me! Why aren’t you upset? Look at this.” She stormed over to the desk and thrust the tablet in his face, let him see for himself the damning headlines blazing across the screen. “They’re not letting this go. All the newspapers have been ripping the wedding to shreds, and it’s been over a week since Elana and Thom got married. This wedding was supposed to reestablish us as being stronger than ever. That we were forging ahead despite our adversities. Instead, they print this crap!” She almost spat at the words blazing at her.
Marshalls Flaunt Shameless Wealth While Harrison Lies Dying!
Marshall Bride Dragged to Wedding as Groom Suffers Cold Feet
A Diamond for Every Guest? Get Real, Elana Marshall!
Has Mariella Won the Crown of Most Garish, Over-the-Top Society Wedding?
“Garish! How can they take something so beautiful and trash it like this? There’s nothing in there about how beautiful my baby girl looked on her wedding day. Nothing about the love and laughter in the room. All everyone’s talking about is how much money we spent! What the hell business is it of anyone’s how much the wedding cost? It’s not as if we stole or borrowed it.” But could she say that with absolute conviction?
“Tía—”
“And what is this crap about Harrison lying dying? The news anchor’s report was supposed to shut down endless speculation.”
Gabe leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “The paparazzi will always go for the most attention-grabbing headlines. You know that. This will all blow over very soon.”
Mariella shook her head, anger