Jackie’s gaze wandered from headstones to somber faces. But not to the casket that held the body of her only true friend Desmond Sinclair. She recognized all of the people standing around her. Except for…
Now she knew she hadn’t worn the black net veil because it matched her black suit. She’d worn it to hide her eyes. She continued to stare at the man. The handsome stranger who looked familiar even though she was positive she’d never met him. She searched her memory until it came to her. Andrew Michaels. She saw his picture in her
How dare he show up here? Thanks to her Desmond couldn’t harm anyone anymore. A cold chill rolled through her. Perhaps the district attorney had come for her.
Undecided if she should bolt or approach the man, Jackie was suddenly frozen in a time past when Marcus DeMario stepped into view.
The sight of him took her breath away just like the first time she saw him all those years ago. She watched him step away from the limousine and weave around headstones in her direction. As he neared, she saw his features had changed little. What had changed was the hardness in his composure, a coldness that sent another chill through her.
With her chin tucked into her chest, she watched him step up to the casket to pay last respects. Once or twice his steely eyes glanced her way. But he showed no signs of recognizing her.
Of course he wouldn’t recognize you, she reminded herself. You were just a disposable piece of property to the man.
But Marcus did recognize her. Not the first time he glanced in her direction. The second time his gaze traveled up her black nylons he knew of only one pair of legs so perfect. But what was Jackie Bertoni doing at Desmond Sinclair’s funeral? What was she doing in
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