Red Tide (Siren Publishing Classic) by Tymber Dalton Page A

John’s face, though. Not dismay, not shame—hell, not even embarrassment that she’d walked in on his infidelities. He didn’t even have the decency to try to explain, much less cover himself.
    “I didn’t think you’d be home this early,” was all he said before she’d slammed the bedroom door shut.
    Mitch remembered walking into the kitchen, struggling to maintain her composure, feeling both anger at John for his actions and vindication that her suspicions were now validated. She walked back to the bedroom and threw the door open. The blonde was just crawling out of bed. Her bed. The woman froze when she saw the fury painted on Mitch’s face.
    John made no attempt to get up. He lay there, not even a sheet covering him, and listened to Mitch with that same calm detachment.
    Mitch’s voice was low and steely, fueled by hatred and disgust. “I don’t care who you are, or how you met him. All I know is that he is still my husband, and if I ever catch you in this house again, I will personally see to it that you don’t have any hair left. You have till the count of three to pick up your clothes and exit under your own power or I will bodily remove you from this house. One—”
    “But I’m not dressed!”
    Mitch took a step toward her and she scrambled for her clothes strewn on the floor.
    “Two.”
    The lady started to pull clothing on. Mitch took another step toward her.
    “Katey, I’d leave if I were you. She’ll do it. Get dressed outside.” John looked on in amusement. He still lay in bed, his hands clasped behind his head.
    Katey froze, unsure of what to do now that John wasn’t taking her side. Mitch took another step toward the blonde. Katey grabbed her remaining clothes and her purse and started backing toward the bedroom door, giving Mitch a wide berth.
    “Three.” Mitch took two angry strides toward her. Katey squealed in fright. Before she disappeared through the bedroom door she screamed, “You’re a shit, John! A real shit!”
    He smiled. “And you, my dear, are a cheap slut.” She reddened and ran. A moment later, the front door slammed hard enough to rattle the living room windows.
    Mitch turned her fury on John. Her entire body shook with rage. “Let me tell you something. I will only say this once. If you ever bring another one of your whores into this house, not only will I throw her out without her clothing, I will call the sheriff’s office and have you bodily removed from the premises, and you will be served with divorce papers the next morning. From now on, until you can show me a good reason why, I will be sleeping in the large guest bedroom. Alone. If you want to fuck around, you go do it somewhere else. Do I make myself clear?”
    She had hoped for at least an apology, for him to swear it was a one-time thing and it wouldn’t happen again, a reason to keep the marriage alive. Instead, he simply nodded. “Understood. “
    Mitch recalled standing in the bedroom doorway, staring at him, trying to remember why she fell in love with him. She couldn’t. Despite what she’d told the blonde, any chance for her to stay married to him vanished when she opened the door and found the woman on top of him, his hands on her hips. Mitch suddenly felt a wave of tears threaten as she fought the nausea rising in her throat.
    “Why?” she managed to choke out.
    He shrugged. His equanimity infuriated her even more than his actions. “I got bored. You’ve been a good wife. I can’t say a bad word about you. I just need something else now.”
    Mitch turned and ran from the house, barely remembering to grab her purse. She held back the tears until she was in her Bronco and down the street. For several weeks, she’d suspected something was up. He took more business trips, and acted evasive when she asked him how they went. She found cell phone bills with repeated calls to local numbers at all hours of the day and night.
    She found a condom in his briefcase.
    Mitch had hoped she was wrong,