If only my intentions were good, though. If only it was for her sake and not my own need to possess her, knowing all along I can never truly have her.

Setting my duffel back in the closet, I go downstairs, still avoiding Mercedes and her friends, and inform Lois that I will be home for dinner after all and that we will have a guest. I also ask her to instruct Mercedes to wear the dress I left out for her.

Later that evening, when I enter my bedroom, I find Mercedes trying to clasp the diamond necklace I sent over into place. I’m not sure why I bought it for her. She pauses when she sees me, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror over my dresser. The sight is so domestic. We’re sharing a bedroom. She’s in the middle of getting dressed. To anyone who doesn’t know our situation, we could be husband and wife.

She blinks away first and curses when the necklace slips through her fingers and drops to the floor. It falls beside her sandals. They match the white gold dress with its spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline that dips to the waist giving one a glimpse of the roundness of her breasts. From the fitted waist, the soft fabric of the skirt drapes past her knees but has a long slit along the front of one thigh. I’m sure Clifton Phillips will start drooling the moment he sees her.

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing,” she says as we both bend to pick up the necklace. I get to it first. We straighten, and I’m standing too close. But I don’t move.

“You seemed to enjoy Clifton’s company at Vivien’s birthday party, and I’ve considered what you said. And you’re right. You are in need of a husband.”

Her eyes are cold. Better than flat, like a Stepford wife. “I believe the exact words you used were over my dead body will you ever go out with him.”

“Hmm.” I look at the diamond necklace that cost a small fortune. I thought of her the instant I saw the woman setting it in the window of the exclusive jeweler I pass on my way to the courthouse. A delicate pavé-set diamond choker suspending a line of ten round diamonds. It’s one of a kind. Like her. I brush her hair over her shoulder, the heat of her skin sending an electric jolt through me.

“I can do it myself.” She tries to snatch the necklace.

“Be still.” I brush my thumb over the IVI tattoo on the back of her neck and feel the empty space above it. Would I ever really allow Phillips to put his mark on here? The thought makes bile rise in my throat as I place the choker around her neck.