All or Nothing(57)

By: Catherine Mann


He’d tried to tell her she didn’t have to work this hard, but she’d only rolled her eyes and told him they could sneak away for an opera once a month—if he promised to be incredibly naughty before intermission. In spite of his efforts to pamper her, he’d discovered his wife had grown fiercely independent. The way she took charge, her visionary perspective, reminded him of Colonel Salvatore.

Zhutov was no longer even a remote threat. One morning a month ago, guards had found him dead in his bunk, smothered. Most likely by someone as payback for any one of his criminal acts over the years.

Life was balancing out.

Conrad started toward the soccer field. Now that the loose ends had been tied up this past week he’d spent at Interpol Headquarters in Lyon, France, he was free until the next assignment rolled around.

He liked coming home to her, here. He could manage his holdings from a distance with good managers in place, and he could jet over with his wife whenever she was ready to take in an opera.

Right now, though, he just wanted to have dinner with his wife. The soccer ball came flying in his direction, and he booted it back into play. Jayne waved, smiling as she jogged toward him.

“Welcome home,” she called, throwing her arms around his neck.

He caught her, spinning her around under the warm African sun. Already, she whispered about her plans for making love in the shower before supper and how good it would be to sleep next to him again.

And he had to agree, his insomnia was now a thing of the past. Everything was better with her in his life. He knew, in his wife’s arms, he’d finally come home.