Reid touched my shoulder. His hand was warm. “I don’t. I’ve discussed that with my brothers and sister. Your show was dark the night of the murder, but we can easily prove you weren’t anywhere near New York. Flight logs will show you weren’t on a plane, and it would take days to take the train or drive. Plus, you don’t have the kind of money or connections to have it done.”

I knew all this, but his words flew at me and pricked me as if they were little shards of metal. His voice seemed so distant and cold, in contrast with his hand so hot on my flesh.

“I suppose you’re right,” I said.

“Trust me. I’ve been through this with my lawyers ad nauseum. You won’t be charged. I guarantee it.”

“How can you guarantee it?”

“I just can. You may have a motive, but you’ve had that motive for ten years, Zee. Why now? And you weren’t even in the state of New York.”

His words still pricked me like talons, but he made a lot of sense.

“So when, then?”

“When what?”

“When will I meet with him? The detective?”

“Oh, right.” Reid squirted a tiny amount of gel into his palm and then whisked it through his hair. “Sometime today, I imagine. I have to go in for more questioning as well.”

“Will you be with me when I’m questioned?”

“You’re not being questioned, Zee. You’ll simply make a statement.”

“But after that, they’ll question me, I assume.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” He touched my cheek lightly.

His words no longer pricked me like tiny nails. He was sweet Reid again.

“Okay.” I attempted a smile.

He let his towel drop to the floor. I kept my eyes from widening. I’d already seen all of him, but he was still magnificent every time. Tan and muscled and spectacular.

“I’m going to call in your breakfast and then get dressed. I’m already running late.”

Okay. Back to distant Reid.

But was this truly distant Reid?

Perhaps this was businessman Reid. Billionaire businessman Reid. A billion-dollar empire didn’t run itself, and Reid had been his father’s right-hand man.

God, his father…

I’d learned to compartmentalize over the years. Some days I was more successful than others.

Right now, though, my mind didn’t really know which way to go. I was here with the son of my tormentor. I’d just slept with him, and now I had to tell the story of what his father had done to me.

So it was pretty difficult to compartmentalize, especially when I was in love with his son.

Except I wasn’t in love. I’d already been through that in my head. It was simply emotion spurred by physical reaction.

It had to be. No other explanation made any sense.