Chapter 3

Sloane's POV

"Jesus, Whit." It took me one second to suppress the ice water flooding my veins. I forced a perfectly pitched, pleasantly surprised smile. "When did you get here?"

"I was just walking past your office." Whit stood up, his voice as gentle as always. "I found the door locked. And inside, there is only a... very young, extremely handsome boy."

A tightrope of tension instantly snapped into place across the room.

I didn't even dare look at Linus. If this lunatic opened his mouth and said, "Your wife wants to bleed you dry and take absolutely everything," my four years of eating dirt, along with the bone-deep hatred fueling me, would be flushed down the drain.

"Whit, if you knew the first thing about psychiatry, you'd know his condition is extremely unstable right now!" I marched up to him, then hit the intercom on my desk. "Nurses Station, send two orderlies from Ward B to my office immediately. Bring restraints."

I spun back around, looking Whit dead in his bespectacled eyes, my words sharp and rapid-fire. "Listen to me. Linus just had a severe paranoid episode in the courtyard, exhibiting potential violent tendencies. I brought him here to keep him from triggering the other patients, and to run an emergency evaluation. Are you barging in here to question my professional judgment?"

Whit flinched.

He was always like this. The minute I showed the slightest bit of backbone, he acted like a kicked dog.

"That's not what I meant, Sloane..." he muttered, nervously pushing his glasses up his nose.

Footsteps echoed outside, and two orderlies pushed into the room.

"Take Mr. Crewe back to his room," I ordered coldly.

The orderlies moved toward the sofa. Linus, who hadn't said a word the entire time, slowly stood up. As he passed me, he stopped in his tracks. I instinctively held my breath, my muscles aching from the tension.

"Mr. Caldwell," Linus said, tilting his head slightly, his grayish-blue eyes bottomless with mockery. "Your wife is a very... 'dedicated' doctor."

Before Whit could respond, he obediently followed the orderlies out. The heavy door clicked shut.

The second the door closed, Whit's awkward hesitation vanished. He sighed, took a sudden step forward, and yanked me into a bone-crushing hug.

His arms clamped around my waist like iron, his face buried deep in my neck, greedily inhaling my perfume.

"I'm sorry, Sloane... I just missed you so much." His voice was muffled, carrying a pathetic tremor. "I just can't stand seeing other men stare at you like that. The way that kid looked at you made me insane with jealousy."

In his blind spot, I let out a massive sigh of relief.

I gave his back a perfunctory pat. "Stop acting like a child, Whit. It's just my job."

"I know." He reluctantly let me go, his eyes full of obsession. "But I won't get to see you for a few days. I have to leave for Boston tonight. My father set me up with a medical archives expo. I probably won't be back for three days."

"I'm going to miss you, Whit." I lowered my eyelashes, perfectly playing the part of the devoted, reluctant-to-part wife.

"I'll miss you too." He kissed my forehead. "Be a good girl and wait for me."

The second his car pulled out of the hospital lot, I slammed on the gas pedal of my own.

Night had fallen. I parked my car in the secluded, ultra-wealthy neighborhood—17 The Reeds.

Caspian was sitting on the white slate patio, shirtless.

I walked up behind him, trailing my fingertips down his left shoulder blade, stopping right on the tiny 's' tattooed near his collarbone. "Miss me?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me onto the sofa. What followed was frantic and bruising—a breathless blur of torn clothes and biting kisses that eventually dragged us to the mattress.

Afterward, his chest still heaving, Cas leaned against the headboard. "When does this end?"

I kept my eyes closed, my fingers tracing the lines of his abs. "I told you, just give me a little more time."

"A little more time?" Cas abruptly sat up, swatting my hand away. "A year? Two? I am sick of this! Every single day I have to picture the woman I love sleeping in another man's bed, watching you play the perfect, happy couple on TV!"

"Do you need money?" I sat up, my eyes instantly going ice-cold. "Is this house not enough for you? Did you see a car you want? You want to open your own studio? Name your price, Cas. Whatever it is, I'll buy it."

"I want you to get a divorce." He glared at me. "I want you to slap the papers on that coward's desk tomorrow morning."

The air in the bedroom froze.

I threw off the covers, letting my bare feet hit the cold floor. I walked over to him, looking down at his face, and forcefully grabbed his chin.

"Divorce? Absolutely. Not. Happening."