dismissed. It was a new tactic, another game. He unbuttoned his cuffs, mo

ow. He reached for her waist, a familiar,

first time in four years, she moved away from his touch, a sharp, deci

absolute, that Julian froze. His fac

cold and clear as a tombstone. "W

ic. Where would you go? Back to that shoebox apartment you c

ward the master suite, her back straight. He watched her go, a s

he racks of designer gowns and the shelves of handbags. Instead,

airs of jeans. Some simple sweaters. She took onl

er jewelry, the Oscar de la Renta gowns-she left untouched. They

in with a small, worn locket. It had been her mother's. She fastened i

ring," a symbol of their arrangement. Her fingers closed around it. Wit

ith a sharp, definitive clink-a sound tha

oss the room and grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging

trength he didn't know she possessed, she wrenched her

the old sui

lly expensive heels he'd bought her. She left them neatly by the door. Then, barefoo

console table, right on top of the

quiet, deliberate grace.

use door and stepped out, dragging her

perfect, empty world. And for the first time, Juli