Free Sin and the Millionaire by Lucy Farago Page A

she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
    â€œI hated how she treated you,” she finally said. “Like she was some kind of princess and you were her bloody pink poodle.” She glanced up then, staring him straight in the eyes. “And I hated how you didn’t see it.”
    Was that what she thought? “Because I let her get away with stuff doesn’t mean I didn’t see it.”
    â€œThen why would you let her treat you like a lapdog?”
    He shrugged, encouraged by the flare of temper. She wouldn’t be getting so mad if she didn’t care for him. “I learned early in life to avoid confrontation. It made living easier, first at home then at school. And it wasn’t like she didn’t treat everyone with condescension. Plus, I assumed she loved me. And that I loved her.”
    â€œAre you saying you didn’t? You were married five years.”
    â€œI didn’t understand what loving someone meant. At least not the right way.” He set the bottles of water on the desk. “My father was an academic. He married very late in life, and my mother was one of his students.”
    â€œHigh school?” she asked, making a face. “That’s gross.”
    â€œNo, college. He wasn’t that amoral. But there was a thirty-five-year age difference. I’m fairly certain I was… unplanned. She left when I was five. Her own father, my grandfather, had died when she was a little girl, and she told me later that one father had been enough. She was killed in car crash when I was nine.” He hadn’t seen much of her, but he missed the times he had. She was the fun his father wouldn’t allow him to have.
    â€œI’m sorry. So it was just you and your dad?”
    He nodded. “Until I was ten. Then he retired and remarried.”
    â€œAnother student?” she asked warily.
    â€œNo. My grandmother.”
    Lizzy’s jaw dropped. As would anyone’s.
    â€œMy mother’s mother,” he explained. “She had the Elvis newspapers I told you about. They got together after my mom died. Nanna, slash stepmom, loved to take care of people. It was very claustrophobic.”
    â€œSo he goes from being the father, to being mothered? That’s…”
    â€œVery Jerry Springer, I know.” He pulled up a chair beside Lizzy and held her hands in his. They were strong, confident. He loved her hands.
    â€œI married Victoria because I thought she checked all the boxes. She was beautiful. She needed me and made me feel like a man. At least, so I thought. I learned the hard way that without respect, you have nothing.”
    Lizzy looked down at their joined hands but made no attempt to move hers. “You married a bitch.”
    He gave self-deprecating laugh. “I know. But she didn’t deserve to die that way.”
    â€œNo,” Lizzy agreed. “But, if it turns out she was in on the embezzling, I think jail time would have killed her.”
    â€œYou’re probably right.” His wife might very well have gone insane doing time.
    â€œLet’s finish this.” She pulled away, leaving his hands empty and cold.
    Sooner or later, they would end this conversation and one way or another he’d have Lizzy. His IQ had garnered him billions; surely it’d get him the woman he knew in his heart of hearts he was meant to be with. Lizzy wasn’t Victoria. Her ego didn’t require stroking and she could stand on her own two feet. He was the needy one. He hadn’t known what love was until the day he realized he’d fallen in love with her. And now that he did, she’d become as vital to his life as breathing itself.
    She popped in another flash drive.
    â€œYou know each one of those is dated for last access. I think, like her e-mail, we should check the latest ones first.”
    â€œGood idea,” she said. “This one is from three years ago.” She pulled it out and slid in another, going through