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  Benedict didn’t reach for it or glance at it. “Now why is it,” he mocked, “that announcement doesn’t surprise me?”

  “Maybe you’re clairvoyant,” Paul snapped. “Either way, the evidence is in there—two videotapes and a letter. Don’t take my word for anything, Benedict, see for yourself. And then if you have even a trace of decency left, do something to alleviate her suffering.”

  “How much do you think it will take,” he asked with scathing sarcasm, “to ‘alleviate her suffering’? One million dollars? Two million? Twice as much, because you plan to share the bounty with her?”

  Planting his hands flat on Benedict’s desk, Paul leaned forward and said savagely, “I should have let the Federales beat the shit out of you all the way to the Texas border!”

  “Really? Why didn’t you?”

  Straightening, Paul raked him with a scornful look. “Because Julie made me promise before she turned you in that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. The only thing she lied to you about was being pregnant. She did it so that you’d let her join you. She must have been insane to think she was in love with you, you heartless, arrogant bastard.”

  At that, Benedict got out of his chair and started around his desk. ‘Try it,” Paul invited holding his arms out to his sides. “Please try it, movie star. Just throw the first punch, so I can finish it for you.”

  “Enough!” Matt Farrell thundered, grabbing Zack’s arm. “Richardson, you’ve had your five minutes. O’Hara!” he shouted. “Show Mr. Richardson to the door.”

  Joe O’Hara instantly materialized in the room from the doorway where he’d been eavesdropping. “Nuts, it was just starting to get good,” he said. Eyeing Paul Richardson with a modicum of respect, he gestured grandly to the door and said, “I’ve never met a lawman before who wears a suit and is willin’ to step out from behind his badge and put up his fists. Allow me to show you to your car.”

  His humor did nothing to diffuse the tension that stretched taut in the room when he left.

  “I think we should go,” Matt said.

  “And I think,” Meredith argued, drawing a startled look from both men, “we should wait while Zack looks at the evidence inside that envelope.” She turned to him. “I also think it’s time I tell you that I believe beyond all doubt that Julie loved you very much. I also believe that everything Richardson said is true.”

  “If that’s what you think,” Zack retorted with biting sarcasm, “then I suggest you take the ‘evidence’ with you and look at it yourself, Meredith. Then you can burn it.”

  Matt’s face went white with fury, “I’ll give you five seconds to apologize to my wife.”

  “I’ll only need two,” Zack said curtly, and Meredith smiled before Matt did because she was listening to his words, not his tone. Reaching his hand out for hers, Zack smiled grimly. “I apologize for my tone. I was inexcusably rude.”

  “Not inexcusably,” she said, studying his eyes as if searching for something. “I’ll take you up on your offer, though, and take that envelope with me, if you don’t mind.”

  “Since your husband is still debating about whether or not to throw a punch at me, and since I’ve already earned it,” Zack said dryly, “I don’t think I ought to press my luck by turning you down now.”

  “I think that’s very wise of you,” she said, transferring her laughing gaze to her husband. Picking up the envelope from the desk, she tucked her hand into Matt’s arm. “There was a time when the mere mention of my name could drive you to similar fury,” she reminded him gently, making a clear effort to diffuse the remaining tension between the two men.

  His scowl softened to a reluctant smile. “Was I really as big a jackass as Zack is?”

  She laughed. “Now there’s a question guaranteed to get me into a fight with one of you.”

  Matt affectionately rumpled her hair and drew her tightly to his side.

  “We’ll see you at the party after we’ve changed,” she called over her shoulder as they walked out.

  “Fine,” Zack said, watching them go, marveling at the closeness they shared, at the way it had changed Matt. Once, not long ago, Zack had imagined that Julie and he—Furious that she’d even entered his mind, he walked over to the windows and opened the drapes. He wasn’t certain what he despised more—her treachery or his gullibility. At thirty-five she’d reduced him to pouring out his heart in sappy love letters and gazing at her picture for hours, not to mention risking his neck to buy her just the right wedding ring at one of the most exclusive jewelers in South America. The shame and self-disgust he felt about things like that almost outweighed his humiliation at being beaten on his knees in front of half the world. She was responsible for that, too. And everyone with a television set knew it—they knew he’d been so blindly, insanely besotted with a small-town schoolteacher that he’d risked his life to get to her.

  Firmly dismissing her from his mind, Zack looked out at the increasing crowd gathering for the afternoon festivities. Glenn Close was talking to Julia Roberts. She looked up, saw him standing at the window, and waved.

  Zack lifted his hand to her in a salute. On his lawn, most of them available to him at the crook of a finger, were some of the most beautiful women in the world. Bracing his hand high against the window frame, Zack studied them, searching for one who especially stood out and appealed to him—one with particularly fine eyes, a romantic mouth, and piles of sexy, healthy hair . . . someone with warmth and wit and goals and ideals . . . someone who’d thaw the ice inside of him. He shoved away from the window and headed into the master suite to change clothes. There wasn’t a big enough blow torch in the world to thaw him out and make him feel the way he had in Colorado, and even if it were possible, he’d never let it happen to him again. Behaving like a lovestruck ass was not his style. He must have been insane in Colorado. No doubt it had been a combination of the time and place. Under normal circumstances, he’d never have felt that way about any woman alive.

  He was going to be more attentive to his guests than he’d been so far today, he vowed. He didn’t know why, after only six weeks, some of his delight in his renewed career was already beginning to fade. He was exhausted, he decided, unbuttoning his shirt. In six short weeks, in addition to meeting with six producers, five studio heads, and countless other business associates, he’d also read dozens of scripts, managed to bargain the tenants out of both his houses, hire new staffs, rehire part of his old staff, buy two cars, and order a plane. He needed to relax and enjoy the taste of success now that it was his again, he decided, tossing his shirt onto the bed. Behind him the door opened, and he turned, his hands on his belt.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Zack,” the redhead said with an inviting smile as she walked purposefully forward, her breasts swelling invitingly from her halter top, hips swaying in their long silk pants, jewels sparkling on her wrists and fingers. “And I’ve found you just as you’re getting undressed. Isn’t that an amazing coincidence.”

  “Amazing,” he lied, trying to remember who the hell she was. “But then that’s what bedrooms are for, isn’t it?”

  “That’s not all they’re for,” she whispered, sliding her hands up his chest.

  Gently, he took her hands between his. “Later,” he said, turning her around heading her firmly toward the door. “I need a shower, and then I have to get out there and play host.”

  73

  “GREAT PARTY, ZACK,” AN UNMISTAKABLE voice whispered teasingly in his ear, “but where’d you find so many monkeys willing to wear fancy clothes?” Grinning, Zack turned away from the group talking to him beside the pool and looped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side. “I was hoping you’d come.”

  “Why, to relieve your monotony?” she said, surveying the party that was getting into full swing at one o’clock in the afternoon.

  When she started to move away, he tightened his grip. “Don’t abandon me,” he joked. “Irwin Levine is bearing down on us and he’s going to pounce