Michael could feel the headache throb at his temples as if to mark the passing of each slow second. It had been two days since he’d left Kate sleeping, still tangled in the pool of bedcovers. Sleep hadn’t been as accommodating for him that night. He’d lain next to her, cradling her close, but his mind had refused to succumb to slumber. The passion had been sated for the moment, freeing him to deal with the more troubling emotions that had persisted in colliding beneath the surface. He wasn’t an expert at self-analysis, but there had been one feeling that had been pretty easy to identify. Sheer, unadulterated panic. He sent his gaze across the table and nodded soberly as Jake Winslow talked leverage buyouts and stock options with Hummels and his attorney, but his mind was occupied with far more serious matters. He could still feel the cold fist of fear that had gripped his insides when she’d made her little speech, laid out her terms. Keep it simple. Her phrase had slapped him neatly across the face, making a mockery of his carefully laid plans.
