He grinned though his eyes never left the screen. “Oh, precious, work is not what I’ll be at all night. But I need a few minutes to send this new proposal to the board before I can devote my attention to you. Do you mind?”

“Take your time. I’ll get ready for bed.” I lowered the lights as he had the night before, then took advantage of his distraction and retrieved the sexy nightie I’d brought with me before slipping into the bathroom.

I didn’t hurry as I undressed, taking the opportunity to shave and apply lotion before slipping on the red lace halter baby-doll I’d purchased on Friday afternoon. The halter-top accentuated my br**sts, an area of my body that Hudson appreciated. I removed the ponytail holder from my hair and let it spill around my shoulders in a seductive mess. I brushed my teeth and applied a thin layer of strawberry lip gloss.

When I was satisfied with my appearance, I opened the door to the bedroom and posed in the doorway, waiting for Hudson’s reaction.

I was met with quiet snoring.

With his hands still propped on his open laptop, Hudson had fallen asleep, fully dressed. I sighed, debating how to address the situation. Of course I wanted him awake, but he wouldn’t have fallen asleep like that if he wasn’t truly worn out. Plus, I had to remind myself, night was my time of day—not his.

Gently, I slipped the computer from his grasp and placed it on the nightstand. The movement didn’t disturb him in the least—he was out. I decided to let him sleep, but as for myself, I wasn’t in the least bit tired. I wondered if Jack was still awake—maybe we could play another round of poker, though being alone with the man wasn’t entirely a great idea. I peered out the window and saw the guesthouse was dark. Probably for the best.

The pool sprawled below my window though, and suddenly a midnight swim sounded heavenly. I traded my lingerie for a string bikini, threw on my robe, and grabbed a towel. Then I slipped on my flip-flops and turned off all the lights before venturing down to the grounds.

The pool was heated and felt amazing—exactly what I’d needed. I hadn’t been for a swim in months, since I’d let my gym membership expire earlier in the year. And I had the place to myself—perfection.

I pushed myself through thirty serious laps before relaxing into a dozen or so at a leisurely pace. Then I sat on the step in the shallow end of the pool, letting my heart rate return to normal while lazing in the warm water.

“Where’s Hudson?” Sophia’s voice startled me from my reverie.

I shifted in my spot and found her standing behind me, dressed in the same robe she’d worn the night before, and, again, a glass of amber liquid in her hand. I wondered if she was a heavy drinker or if my being in her home brought it on.

“He’s…he fell asleep.” I climbed out of the pool and reached for my towel, feeling small in her presence. She had that effect on me in general, but also I hadn’t asked anyone if I could use the pool and I worried I’d taken advantage of my host’s hospitality. Although, Sophia hadn’t been hospitable in the least, so perhaps it was a moot concern.

I faced away from her as I toweled off, but I heard her take a seat in a deck chair behind me. “He doesn’t love you, you know?”

I’d heard her, but didn’t trust my ears. I turned to meet her narrow eyes. “Pardon me?”

“He can’t.” She swirled the liquid in her glass as she spoke, her tone laced with pain. “He’s incapable.”

Incapable. That was exactly what Hudson had said. Had it been his mother who had forced him to embrace such an idiotic idea about himself? The earlier hostility I’d felt toward her when I’d listened at the kitchen door returned and spilled like poison from my lips. “Maybe you’re projecting your own incapability of emotion.”

Her voice grew colder, but remained steady, in control. “Your words can’t touch me, Ms. Withers. This is my house, Hudson is my son. I’m the one in power here.”

“Fuck you.”

She smiled. “He’s had years of therapy. Extensive therapy.”

So have I. I threw my towel down and wrapped my robe around me, taking the time to make sure my tone was as level as hers when I spoke again. “He’s told me.”

“Has he? But he hasn’t shared the details.” She leaned forward, her eyes catching one of the outdoor lights, causing them to glow red. She couldn’t have looked nastier if she’d tried. “If he had, you’d know he can’t love anyone. He’s sociopathic. Diagnosed at age twenty.”

She surprised me, the lack of strength in my response telling her as much. “Hudson’s not a sociopath.” Was he?

“He’s deceitful and manipulative, egocentric, grandiose, glib and superficial. Incapable of remorse. He engages in casual and impersonal sexual relationships.” She ticked off traits easily, as if they always bubbled right there at the surface of her consciousness. “Look it up—he fits the definition to a tee. He has no concern for others’ feelings. He can’t love anyone.”

“I don’t believe that.” But my voice cracked.

“You’re extremely naïve.”

“You’re an extreme bitch.” I gathered my towel in my arms and slipped on my flip-flops, needing to be away from her and her horrible accusations. But her words had already done their job. I doubted, and she knew it.

“He’s only with you for the sex.” She stood, blocking me from the path to the house. “You’re attractive.” Her eyes skidded down to my bosom. “And clearly his type. He seems to like f**king buxom brunettes the most.”

I had nothing to say in my defense. He’d told me our relationship was only sex. I was aware enough of my obligations to my on-duty job, though, and I spoke as if we were a real couple. “If it was just sex, he’d never bring me to meet you.”

Her smile widened. “That’s an added bonus for him. He can rile me up and get his kicks with you all at once. It really has nothing to do with you. It’s about me and my son.” She took a step toward me, and it took all my strength not to cower. “You, Ms. Withers, are insignificant.”

I wanted to believe that I would have slapped her or pushed her into the pool—she deserved either, both really. But our confrontation was interrupted by Chandler and four other teenage boys boisterously entering the pool area, dressed in swim trunks and carrying towels.

“Mom?” Chandler said upon seeing his mother’s back. Sophia stepped aside and he met my eyes. “Laynie,” he said, surprised to see me or perhaps recognizing the stricken look that I must have worn. “I didn’t know anyone else was out here.”