Stay With Me by Maya Banks

being brushed aside, of never coming first, it frightened her to think that after having a brief moment of bliss, it could all slide away again.
    They ate in uncomfortable silence. A couple of times, Rhys or Logan brought up business, and she could tell they were dying to discuss strategy, but each time, they glanced over at her and the conversation died.
    Her food didn’t set well, and an uncomfortable ache nagged at her side. She twisted in her seat, ready to go back to the room as the men were obviously impatient to return as well.
    Though they still had a few hours yet when they got back to the room, the mood was tense. She hated it. Hated the breach that had opened up with one simple phone call. And she had no idea what to do to fix it, or if she even could.
    She watched as they packed their clothes and toiletries. Unable to stand the silence any longer, she went to Rhys and wrapped her arms around his waist. She laid her cheek against his back and just held on.
    She felt him sigh, a deep sound of regret, and she knew he hated leaving as much as she did. He gathered her hands in his and pulled them upward until they rested over his heart. Then he let them go and slowly turned until she faced him.
    He drew her into his arms and hugged her tightly. “I love you.”
    “I love you too,” she whispered.
    When he finally relinquished his hold on her, she glanced over at Logan.
    “Come here, baby,” he said when she hesitated.
    She went into his arms, and he buried his face in her hair.
    “I know the timing on this sucks, and I know you’re upset.”
    “Thank you for this week,” she said, not wanting him to go without knowing how much it had meant to her.
    He stiffened, and she could feel anger build within him. Puzzled by his reaction, she pulled away and stared at him in confusion.
    He touched her face, cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb over her skin. “It pisses me off that you feel you had to thank me for spending time with you. God. You’re my wife, and if anyone is entitled to my time, it’s you.”
    She tried to smile but gave up before she broke down and cried. How could she tell him that she hadn’t felt entitled to anything in a long time? Now that he said it, it pissed her off too, that she’d thanked her own husband for something she should be able to take for granted.
    With a shake of her head, she warded off her anger and resentment. She wouldn’t ruin their last moments together, nor would she send them off to San Francisco worried that she was going to divorce them. If this week had taught her anything, it was that she wasn’t prepared to walk away without a fight.

Chapter Thirteen
    Catherine shifted uncomfortably in the lounger overlooking the beach and stared down at the silent cell phone. The sun had long since set, and the moon had risen over the water, but she had no desire to go back to the room alone.
    The ache intensified in her side, and she turned again, curling her knees to her chest. She was miserable. Felt miserable, and she wasn’t sure if she’d caught a bug, eaten bad food or was just down in the dumps because Logan and Rhys had gone.
    They’d been gone nearly twenty-four hours, and she was waiting for them to call. Logan had said he’d phone as soon as their meeting was over. At one point, she considered calling him, but she hated to pile on him if he was stressed and trying to salvage his contract.
    The phone rang in her hand, and she snatched it up, opening it without looking to see who was calling.
    “Logan?”
    “Hey, baby.”
    He sounded tired, but she felt a thrill that he’d called like he’d promised.
    “How are you? How did it go? Are you finished?” she asked in a rush.
    He chuckled. “One at a time. I’m good. Rhys is good. It went okay, and yes, we’re done.”
    She breathed a sigh of relief.
    “Listen, baby. I called Paige and asked her to make flight arrangements for you if that’s okay. Rhys and I will take the jet back. It will save us some