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She looked over Ian’s thin, twisted body as he sat in his wheelchair.
    â€œThat’s disgusting,” she snapped.
    Ian raised his eyebrows. “But after last night…What do you think, Alex? You’re the expert on what turns Fiona on.”
    Alex stared at his ex-wife. “Not as much as you’d think.”
    Fiona seemed torn between fury and pleading. “Alex, you can’t let him talk to me like that.”
    â€œWhy not? Ian has a great sense of humor.”
    â€œSomething you wouldn’t understand, babe,” Ian said. “Humor is not your thing.” He turned and rolled out of the room. “Love ya,” he called over his shoulder.
    Fiona drew in a breath. “I’ve never understood that boy.”
    â€œYou’ve never tried.” It had taken Alex a long time to figure out how Fiona felt about Ian, but he’d finally understood that she couldn’t stand to look at the kid. It was as if the variation on normal had disgusted her. That truth was only one thing on a long list of reasons he’d walked away from her and their marriage.
    â€œAlex, I don’t want to fight.”
    He crossed to the wet bar and opened a cabinet. After pouring himself some scotch, he faced her. “I’m not fighting.”
    â€œYou know what I mean.” She glided close to him and put her hand on his chest. “I miss you so much. There has to be something I can say or do to help you forgive me. It was only one mistake. Can you really be so cold and unforgiving?”
    â€œI’m the bastard king,” he said, then took a sip. “Literally. Well, the bastard part anyway.”
    She drew in a breath, as if determined to ignore his baiting of her. “Alex, I’m being serious. I’m your wife.”
    â€œYou were my wife.”
    â€œI want to be again.”
    He looked her up and down. On the surface, she was everything a man could want—beautiful, intelligent, an excellent dinner companion. She could talk to anyone, anywhere. Nearly all his friends had wondered how he had let her get away.
    â€œNot happening,” he told her flatly.
    â€œBut I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
    He thought about that night nearly two years ago. When he’d come home unexpectedly.
    â€œNo,” he said. “It doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

CHAPTER THREE
    D ANI STOOD ON THE PORCH of a large, impressive house in Bellevue and told herself that the world wouldn’t end when she rang the doorbell. It might feel as if it would, but that wasn’t real. Besides, just standing out here, lurking, would upset the neighbors. What if they called and told Mark’s wife about a potential thief hovering? Katherine Canfield would open the front door and find her there. It was not how Dani wanted them to meet.
    â€œI’m babbling in my head,” Dani muttered to herself. “This is bad. Seriously bad. I think I need therapy. Or at least a frontal lobe transplant.”
    She forced herself to push the bell. As the soft ringing sound echoed inside the house, she felt her heart speed up until it was in danger of bursting into warp eight and zipping off to the nearby non-earth galaxy.
    The door opened. Dani tried to brace herself, but there wasn’t enough time. Then all the air flowed out of her lungs when she recognized the man standing there.
    â€œThank God,” she said before she could stop herself. “It’s just you.”
    Alex raised his eyebrows. “Just me? So I wasn’t intimidating enough at our last meeting? None of the threats worked?”
    Oops. “No, no. Of course not. You were terrifying. I won’t sleep for weeks. Dragons. I’m going to have nightmares about them. Seriously. It’s just compared with meeting your mother…no offense, but you’re a snap.”
    He didn’t even crack a smile. Was it that the man didn’t have a sense of humor or was it her