“Oh, I’m not talking about his life in Wyoming. I meant the years after he kicked you out of his bed and you met me. Shall I get you a list?”

  She knew he hadn’t been alone, but a dread she didn’t want to feel ripped at Madison’s heart. “We weren’t together. It doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s not what your face says. Stay there.” Todd marched out of the room and down the hall.

  The ensuing silence nearly crushed her, and she didn’t dare look at Ethan. Not only had her husband maligned and insulted him, she felt so small after Todd’s sneers about her. Did Ethan even think she was worth protecting at this point? Once he heard about this altercation, would Matt?

  She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to run away.

  Ethan took her shoulders. “Don’t disappear into whatever dark place you’re going to in your head. He’s manipulating you to get his way. Don’t let him have it.”

  Logically, Madison knew he was right. She couldn’t let Todd win. But his words crawled into her heart like maggots and began eating her from the inside out. If it turned out that Matt really had slept with that many beautiful women and didn’t want her again after seeing how worthless her own husband found her, she would break into a million little pieces.

  “Sweet pea?”

  “Yeah. I’m okay.” She faked a smile. “He’s an asshole.”

  “One hundred percent. Don’t listen to him.”

  She didn’t want to. Then Todd stormed back into the room, full of reprisal, carrying a folder. He shoved it into her hands. “Here are the names of the women he fucked from the time you said yes to my proposal until now. Look at them. Want me to tell you how many there are? Or do you want to count them? There are ninety-four.”

  Ninety-four? He’d picked up a new woman, like, every few days? Madison’s stomach rolled and turned. Sure, Todd could be lying, but if he’d paid for someone to investigate Matt, then he always got his money’s worth. Todd made sure of that. And she’d known Matt wasn’t a monk, but either he had been propositioned a lot and simply never said no…or he had gone out of his way to constantly find new women to fuck. And she knew Matt. It was the latter.

  Oh, god. She was going to be sick.

  Todd whipped open the folder. “They’re in chronological order, too. Listed by date. He started the night we got engaged. Look.”

  Madison couldn’t help but study the paper he’d shoved in her hand. The name at the top of the list? Hannah Jamison, her high school nemesis. Matt had told her about that, but he’d neglected to mention that he’d also nailed the bitch’s best friend, Liv Lawson—on the same night. Regina Hilton came two days later. A sea of names, some she knew far too well—like Yasmin Frazier, Elle Rogers, and Alicia Ray—populated the list. Some she had even considered friends, like Tabitha Drake and Isabelle Vázquez. Others she didn’t know at all—Dana Linville, Michaela Grayson, Parvati Tash, Meredith Case, and Olivia Tucker… The list went on and on. And on, ending with Casey Simmons mere days before Madison had returned to Lafayette and thrown herself at Matt’s mercy.

  She carefully blanked her expression. The last thing she wanted was to react and give Todd the satisfaction. But her stomach kept churning. Bile crept up her throat. She felt clammy and faint.

  She had pined and pined for Matt. And he seemingly hadn’t thought twice about her. He’d spent all his time getting lucky. And didn’t she feel stupid now?

  “Ah, did Romeo forget to tell you about all the cunt he banged while you were apart?” Todd snarled in her ear. “I’m guessing he didn’t brag to you about the groove he had going. But he was hustling, sometimes fucking multiple women in the same stretch of time. Hell, sometimes at once. My hat is off to him. And he rarely even took off holidays, just violated pussy after pussy. I can’t stand the cowboy son of a bitch, but he did damn good for himself.”

  Madison tried to piece together a response that sounded unaffected, even dismissive, not like she wanted to claw Todd’s eyes out and scream. Not like she was questioning everything she and Matt had together.

  Ethan’s grip at her elbow startled her. He tried to finagle her behind him and take the brunt of Todd’s ugliness. She dug in her heels, not about to let him.

  “Madison—” Ethan all but pleaded.

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “My husband seems to think I care about my bodyguard’s love life in the past, and I can’t imagine why.”

  “You care because you’re fucking him. And because you’re spineless enough to let him use you in whatever kinky ways he wants, like the cum dumpster you are. Have you forgotten that I found you wearing nothing but his T-shirt and his stench a week ago?” Todd turned to Ethan. “You saw it, too.”

  “I didn’t see a fucking thing except gators and your annoying ass, tool.”

  Bless Ethan for his answer, but she wouldn’t let him fight her battles. She had to shut Todd down, then find some privacy so she could process the bombshell her husband had just dropped.

  “Nothing you’ve said matters to me. I’m here for the same divorce I wanted before I left DC weeks ago. You seem to think my desire to end our marriage has everything to do with Matt and nothing to do with you. You’re wrong. Then again, you’ve always been good at fabricating the reality you want. Why should Matt’s past—if it’s even real—or our relationship be any different?” She closed the folder and handed it back to him. “If you paid good money for that report, that’s a shame. I just don’t care.”

  She was going to hell for that bunch of lies, but no way would she admit to Todd that Matt’s busy sex life during their separation had crushed her beyond repair.

  “I don’t believe you.” He slammed the report on the coffee table and plucked his keys from his pocket. “I don’t give you much credit, but even you shouldn’t be stupid enough to leave nearly a billion dollars for a poontang-chasing douche. And if you are that stupid… Well, you get what you deserve.”

  Chapter Six

  Two days later

  * * *

  Matt let himself out of his room at five on Wednesday afternoon, wondering what the fuck he’d find today. Madison’s door was closed—again.

  She hadn’t been the same since his altercation with Todd their first night back in DC. After her rush of concern in the dark hallway, she’d been distant. At first, Matt had assumed she was avoiding temptation. He’d been trying, too, because he ached for her all the time. Having her so near and being unable to touch her made him fucking insane. But over the last couple of days, he’d realized he was wrong. She’d gone cold. And she wasn’t being aloof simply to mislead Toddhole and get him off her back. No doubt the little asshole had rebuked her for masturbating on the sofa, especially since she’d done it at Matt’s command, for his viewing pleasure. Todd knew that, too. But as the hours had turned into days, and Madison had barely met even his clandestine stares, he suspected something else—something he didn’t know about—was going on.

  As he reached the main living space, he found Ethan camped on the sofa with ESPN and a soda. “Hey.”

  The kid rose and downed the last of his carbonated can. “Hey. Good sleep?”

  Not really. He couldn’t relax being under Todd Pershing’s roof, and he didn’t like the distance growing between him and Madison. But he wasn’t confessing any of that to Ethan.

  “Fine,” he lied. “Where’s the douchebag?”

  “Gone. He left about noon. No idea when he’ll return.”

  If it was like last night, where the cockbag had rolled in at three in the morning, pupils dilated like he was high and smelling of sex, that suited Matt just fine.

  “FYI, he ripped out the sound system before he left,” Ethan added.

  Matt glanced at the shelving beside the TV to see all the equipment gone. So the prick had removed the only means he and Madison had to talk. Frustration compounded his anger. That son of a bitch… “Where’s Madison?”

  “We finished a movie about twenty minutes ago. Then she said she wanted a nap.”

  Or she wanted to avoid him.

  But she had zero problems hanging out with Ethan. In fact, the past two days Matt had awakened in the late afternoon to the sound of their combined laughter floating down the hall. That bugged the shit out of him.

  Was she attracted to Ethan? Ready to toss aside everything for the punk?

  Tomorrow—their one day away from this confining hellhole—couldn’t come soon enough.

  Matt scowled. “Anything going on I should know about?”

  “Like what?”

  There were a lot of ways Matt could ask the question burning in his gut, but he wasn’t spilling his insecurities to the jackoff seemingly fixated on stealing his woman. “Did Todd do or say something to upset Madison when I wasn’t on duty?”

  Ethan looked startled. “You haven’t talked to her?”

  Matt looked up at the ceiling, a silent reminder of all the surveillance. “I haven’t had a chance.”

  “You should.”

  A chill iced Matt’s veins. So something had happened.

  “Listen, I’m going to kick back in my room.” Ethan trekked to the kitchen and dumped his empty can in the recycle bin. “See you in the morning.”

  “Wait.” As much as the kid irritated him, Ethan had information Matt needed. “Level with me, huh? I don’t want to ask if it’s going to upset her.”

  “That ship sailed, man. I don’t know Madison well, but one thing I’m crystal clear on? She doesn’t like secrets and lies.” His fellow operative sent him a stare that suggested he’d fucked up, then he disappeared into his room, shutting the door with a final click.

  Son of a bitch. Todd had crawled inside Madison’s head. Why would she believe her asshole of a husband? And why hadn’t she told the man she’d agreed to marry just last week what was wrong? Given him an opportunity to set the record straight?

  Then again, how could she in this fishbowl of technology?

  Fuck. They wouldn’t be able to hash out this shit until tomorrow, but he ached to at least see her face. Fuck coffee, food, and everything else right now. He needed to remind her that Todd was a snake trying to separate them for his own ends.

  Palms sweating, he rubbed them on his jeans and marched to her bedroom door, then knocked. More than a minute passed. Matt was about to knock again when she cracked the door, wearing a T-shirt and matching shorts in a soft gray cotton with her hair pulled into a severe ponytail. She wasn’t wearing a drop of makeup. Or a bra. And for a woman who was supposedly napping, she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. And fuck, she’d been crying.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “You look pale and tired. You sure nothing’s wrong?”

  She raised her chin, looking back at him as if he were a stranger, not the man she supposedly loved. “Positive.”

  Matt gritted his teeth. She was lying. She wasn’t fine. But he held onto his temper—for now. He’d give her today to figure this out. But tomorrow, once they were alone and away from this godforsaken place? Madison had better fucking get honest. Or she was going to meet his unforgiving Dom side.

  “Do you need anything?”

  “Just time alone.”

  Translation: Go the fuck away. Not happening. Todd had said something to hurt Madison, and Matt wasn’t about to let that go.

  “It’s just the two of us for dinner. Why don’t you let me throw something together?”

  “Agatha sent over pictures of my wardrobe for campaign season and demanded that I lose ten pounds in the next ten days, so I won’t be eating tonight.”

  When she started to shut her door between them, Matt blocked it with his boot.

  She looked down before her gaze zipped back to his face. For the first time in days, he saw emotion flare in her eyes. Anger. He’d take that over indifference.

  “With all due respect, Agatha is out of her fucking mind. You’re already tiny, and your weight is perfect. She can go to hell.”

  “Unfortunately, she calls the wardrobe shots, and she made it clear that I need to look as thin as possible at our first public event. Then, over the next month, I should put on a few pounds to support my ‘pregnancy’ announcement in September. I’ll be dieting again after that so I look gaunt in October, supporting the narrative that I’ve lost the baby.”

  Volcanic anger seared Matt’s veins. That manipulative old bitch. “I won’t let you go hungry, Madison. That’s not an option. Do you understand?”

  “No, Matt.”

  She used his name like an honorific, as she had at the swamp. But instead of heavy-lidded obedience and panting pleas, she sounded cool. Detached. Dismissive.

  The Dom in him really, really wanted to light up her ass and turn it bright red. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Here wasn’t the place. Now wasn’t the time. He was too fucking furious.

  Instead, he tried another tactic. “How about your company for dinner, then?”

  Hurt flashed through her eyes. Then she blinked. Her expression went blank again. “Sorry. I’m too tired.”

  So she was avoiding him. Somehow, she’d let Todd crawl into her head, goddamn it. “Just a few minutes. I have some questions, and I don’t think they can wait.”

  Since he couldn’t ask her what he really wanted to, he’d have to fabricate something.

  Madison glanced over his shoulder, and Matt turned to spy a security camera embedded in the crown molding, capturing their every word and gesture. “Tomorrow maybe. I hope I’ll feel better then. I think I’m coming down with something.”

  Shit. She was not just shutting him out, but shutting down. He had to do something—fast.

  Matt brushed his fingers over his temples, looking straight into her eyes, willing her to understand that she was on his mind.

  Her gaze skittered away. Her lower lip trembled. Fuck, she looked on the verge of crying.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She tried to shut the door again.

  He wriggled his whole body into the frame and grabbed her elbow. He’d ten times rather be dragging her close, demanding she tell him what Toddhole had spewed to upset her, and reassuring her that he loved her. The hurt all over her face was killing him.

  “Matt…”

  “Don’t shut me out. It’s my job to worry about you.”

  “It’s not. Your job is to keep me safe. No one has threatened me, okay? And no one has touched me.” Her face hardened. “No one will.”

  Not even him. He got her message loud and clear.

  To his shock, she shoved him square in the chest. Caught unprepared, he stumbled back. While he tried to right himself, Madison shut the door between them. Matt lurched forward, but the quiet snick told him he was too late.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face. What the hell had just happened? He didn’t know…but he was determined to get answers as soon as they were alone. Until then, he’d have to lie low and wait. Short of tipping off the fact that the key fob he’d received with Todd’s access gave him entry to her bedroom—information he was keeping in his back pocket until he really needed it—he had no other options.

  But once he got Madison to the apartment Deke had arranged for them? He’d extract answers from her.

  Snarling, he made his way back to the main room and switched off the TV, resisting the urge to slam down the remote, then forced himself to sit. He took a deep breath and sorted through every possible fucking thing that might have upset Madison. But he’d have more luck finding a needle in a haystack than guessing Todd’s latest depravity or lie.

  Matt yanked his phone from his pocket and debated calling Nash for a cool head. But anything he said would be captured by Todd’s cameras and scrutinized by the fuckbucket—and probably his grandfather, too. Besides, he couldn’t drag his buddy into more of this bullshit. Nearly thirty stitches later, Todd’s crap had already scarred Nash for life.

  Matt disregarded calling the bosses. They would bitch to high heaven if he bothered them for what they’d term his personal, unprofessional shit. Worse, they’d be right.

  He needed to figure this out himself.

  The key fob to the forbidden parts of the apartment burned a hole in his pocket. He’d experimented yesterday after Ethan had delivered his, “accidentally” stumbling in front of Todd’s bedroom door to see if it unlocked the asswipe’s lair. Holy shit, what do you know? It had worked. In fact, everywhere else he tested—Madison’s door and Todd’s study—the telltale green light blinked on the panel, and the lock clicked in release. Matt had exercised every ounce of self-control not to barge in and start searching the dirtbag’s hiding places. He’d only held back because the minute he opened the door, Todd would have been alerted in an instant and thrown him out of the unit—and off Madison’s protective detail.

  Time for plan B. He had to gather information without the prick catching on.

  Matt tossed together a high-protein dinner of eggs, chicken, and broccoli, scheming as he shoveled in clean calories, then tidied the kitchen. Absently, he flipped channels, but had no interest in the meaningless talk shows, news, reruns, or retread movies. He hated being cooped up. And after all their time together in the swamp, he couldn’t handle Madison refusing to speak to him. Everything he needed was just down the hall, and he couldn’t touch any of it.

  Fuck.

  Matt lurched off the sofa. He couldn’t take feeling bottled up for another minute.

  On the far side of the living-dining area, he stared at a set of double doors. He’d noticed them, of course. He’d even taken stock of the fact there was a long, narrow balcony with—of all fucking things—a swanky underlit lap pool, complete with water feature and chaise lounges. Todd was a pampered SOB.

  Matt wasn’t about to leave Madison, but he needed some goddamn fresh air or he’d explode.

  He shoved his way out the doors and into the unbearably humid evening, then skirted the narrow pool and leaned against the railing, staring out over the Potomac. He watched the sun dip slowly toward the horizon.