Blake held still.

Samantha slowly moved her head in his direction but she took a considerable amount of time before leveling her eyes to his. When she did, she noted how he glanced between the wine glass in her hand to her face. Even now, she thought, he considered their child before her. For effect, she brought the beverage to her lips, pretended to drink, and then lowered the glass.

“What’s going on, Samantha?” His gaze shot to the bags she’d packed so she could make a somewhat graceful exit.

“I thought we were going to be honest with each other. What happened to that, Blake?”

“Sam, what are you talking about?”

Unable to sit, she stood and placed the wine on the table, nearly spilling it. To Blake, she probably looked as if she’d been drinking too much. Just as well, she thought. “Your father’s will. What did it really say? Or did you think I’d never find out?”

Blake’s eyes grew wide, his lips fell in a tight line.

His expression said all she needed to know.

Guilt… maybe a little remorse. But for what? Remorse over being caught in a lie?

“I didn’t think it was important.”

“You didn’t think telling me your father mandated an heir was important for me to know?”

Blake shut his eyes, accepting her words.

And that said everything.

Killing the tears before they had a chance to fall, Samantha squared her shoulders and stormed toward her duke. “Honesty was what defined us. But you couldn’t trust me with that, could you?”

Blake opened his eyes and watched her approach. “I didn’t want to burden you with details.”

Her jaw dropped in a sarcastic laugh. “Burden me? God, you actually believe yourself. You’re no better than your father. You tell everyone around you how it’s going to be, force your ways on others, and they fall into step.”

He reached out, but Samantha sidestepped away from his hands. “Don’t touch me. Those days are over.”

“Samantha, please, I know this seems—“

“I know this is, Blake. You lied to me about your father’s will.”

“I found out about the second condition after we were married.”

Her stomach twisted. This stress couldn’t be good for the baby. She forced a big breath of air into her lungs and blew it out slowly. “That may be, but it didn’t stop you from making sure you’d win in the end, did it?”

Blake shook his head. “What are you saying? We both knew the risks when we slept together.”

“Don’t you dare. Come clean, Blake. I’ve had men bigger than you shove deceit in my face for a lot longer. I might have let my emotions get the better of me for the last several months, but I’m not a complete pushover.” She waited for his confession. His plea for her forgiveness for reducing himself to poking holes in condoms to get what he wanted.

Instead, she received a blank look.

Without another word, Samantha walked over to her bags.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving. Or did the bags confuse you?”

“Jesus, Samantha, we can work this out. I should have told you about the codicil.”

“You should have told me. I would have given you everything, Blake.” Her heart broke into a thousand pieces as the next words left her mouth. “All you had to do was ask.”

Samantha turned around and walked out of Blake’s life.

She half expected him to rush after her. But then that was the romantic in her, the part of her that believed she meant something to him other than the broodmare she’d become. It didn’t matter if she left. Blake would still have his heir.

And she’d have a lifetime of regrets.

Chapter Thirteen

She walked out. Dammit, she left him with no more than one simple omission on his part.

Women are emotional creatures. Pregnant women more than most. She needed time to blow off some steam. He understood that, but she’d come back.

Yet as the minutes rolled into an hour and the one hour into two, Blake knew his omission weighed on his wife a lot more than he could imagine.

When his phone rang an hour later, he jumped to answer it.

“Samantha?”

“It’s Jeff. Sorry, I can call back if you’re expecting another call.”

The last person he needed to speak with was his lawyer. Blake swirled the triple malt scotch around in his glass before tilting the amber liquid back in his throat. “What is it?”

“Are you okay? You sound like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, not in the mood for chit-chat. Just thought you’d like to know that my PI saw Vanessa corner Samantha in a department store today. According to him, Vanessa seemed a little aggressive, but instead of leaving angry, Samantha left upset.”

Vanessa?

“Did your guy hear the conversation?”

“No. He doesn’t get that close. Is everything okay?”

Blake’s mind ticked. Vanessa must have known about the will… but how. So that’s how Sam found out about the will.

Then the image of the woman in the picture swam in his eyes. “Fuck… the woman…”

“What?”

“In the picture with Vanessa… Leona… no, Neo… Naomi. Naomi something. Works as a f**king secretary for Parker and Parker.” Blake slapped a hand to his forehead. “Vanessa knows the legal secretary for Parker, Jeff.”

“Your ex knows the right hand to your father’s lawyer?”

“Which means Vanessa knew all along about my father’s will.” No wonder the woman was so willing to be a duchess.