Jaclyn pressed her cheek flat against the center of Gaines's chest.
Beneath the crisp white fabric of his dress shirt, she could hear his heart. It was hammering against his ribs in a frantic, erratic rhythm.
Gaines froze completely.
His arms hung uselessly at his sides. He stopped breathing. The sudden, overwhelming sensation of her soft body pressed against his rigid frame short-circuited his brain.
He looked down at the top of her head. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her hair. His fingers twitched.
Five agonizing seconds passed.
Gaines's survival instincts finally kicked in.
He grabbed both of her shoulders. His fingers dug into her flesh. He shoved her backward with brutal force.
Jaclyn's injured ankle buckled under the sudden weight shift. She stumbled backward, her arms flailing. Her hip slammed into the edge of the destroyed piano.
Gaines's eyes flared with panic. He took a half-step forward, his arms tensing as if to catch her, before he caught himself and froze, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his sides.
He stood tall, looking down at her with eyes as cold as liquid nitrogen. A cruel sneer twisted his lips.
"Very impressive," Gaines mocked. "Trying to get close enough to claim I hit you? Looking for domestic abuse evidence for the divorce settlement?"
Jaclyn gripped the edge of the piano to steady herself. Her heart ached at how deeply she had damaged his trust.
She didn't yell. She just looked at him, her eyes clear and calm.
"If I was looking for evidence," Jaclyn said softly, "why did you push me away?"
The logic of her question hit him like a physical blow. Gaines's mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. His brow furrowed in deep confusion.
Before he could formulate a response, a shrill ringtone shattered the silence.
It was coming from the cell phone resting on the glass coffee table.
Jaclyn turned her head. The caller ID flashed brightly on the screen: Cherri.
The blood in Jaclyn's veins turned to ice. Her fingernails dug into the wood of the piano.
Gaines saw the name. A harsh, ugly laugh escaped his throat.
"Answer it," Gaines commanded, gesturing toward the phone. "Let's hear what your handler wants you to do next."
Jaclyn took a deep breath. She walked over to the coffee table, picked up the phone, and hit the speaker button.
"Jackie!" Cherri's sickeningly sweet voice filled the living room. "Are you okay? Did that monster hurt you after you fell?"
Gaines crossed his arms over his chest. He watched Jaclyn intently, waiting for her to launch into her usual tirade about how much she hated him.
Jaclyn stared blankly at the wall.
"I'm fine, Cherri," Jaclyn said. Her voice was completely flat, devoid of any emotion. "He didn't touch me."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Cherri was clearly thrown off by the lack of hysteria.
"Well... Bradford is going crazy with worry," Cherri pushed, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "When can you sneak out to see him?"
At the sound of Bradford's name, the phantom sensation of his hands around her throat choked Jaclyn.
She lifted her eyes and looked directly into Gaines's dark, suspicious gaze.
She leaned closer to the phone.
"I am a married woman, Cherri," Jaclyn said, enunciating every single syllable. "Do not ever mention his name to me again."
Gaines's arms dropped to his sides. His jaw went slack. A storm of shock and disbelief raged in his eyes.
"Jackie? What are you talking about-" Cherri stammered.
"My head hurts from the concussion. I'm hanging up," Jaclyn interrupted coldly.
She pressed the red button and tossed the phone back onto the table.
The massive living room fell dead silent. The faint hum of Manhattan traffic bled through the glass windows.
Gaines stared at her like she had just grown a second head. His brain was spinning, desperately trying to calculate the angle of this new manipulation.
A woman who despised him didn't just cut off her lover in front of him.
It had to be a trap. A massive, lethal trap.
He took slow, predatory steps toward her until he was standing right in her personal space.
"Whatever game you and the Lesters are playing," Gaines whispered, his voice vibrating with dark menace, "you are going to lose."
