Read Two Weeks in Geneva: Book Three for Free Online Page A

dressed the part. Her black suit—the one she wore when she needed to project power, confidence, certainty, even if she didn’t feel it—draped her body as if it had been made for her, a minor post-pregnancy miracle, and gave off just the right mix of femininity and competence with the tiniest bit of sexy to pull it all together. The gray scoop-neck shell she wore underneath added a touch of playfulness, and she’d gotten her mother to brush her hair into a simple, neat updo that she’d never quite mastered on her own. The plain diamond-and-platinum studs that her parents had given her for college graduation were her only jewelry, and four-inch black pumps would complete the look. She hadn’t worn them since she’d found out that she was pregnant, but they were an essential element of this ensemble.
    She smiled, feeling if not prepared, then at least properly attired to see him again, and walked downstairs where her mother sat with Ethan.
    “Oh, you look beautiful, honey. Though I would have worn pantyhose myself.”
    “I’m not going to church, Mama,” Quinn said before she laughed, thinking of the twenty-year debate she and her mother had been having over pantyhose. Lily considered skirts without pantyhose an affront to civility and propriety, an opinion that Quinn did not share.
    “So what is this meeting about again? Seems serious.”
    “I just need to sign some papers, stuff about Ethan.”
    “Umm-hmm,” her mother said with a quirked eyebrow, her expression loaded with meaning that Quinn chose to ignore.
    She walked over and kissed the baby and headed toward the door.
    “See you later,” she said as she exited the house, her gaze snared by the black limousine with tinted windows that was turning onto her street.
    “Here we go,” she mumbled under her breath.
    The car stopped in front of her house and a suited driver emerged and walked around to open the passenger door. Suddenly, butterflies fluttered in her stomach as nervousness filled her. Somehow, she knew Alexander would be waiting for her inside. She’d been counting on the ride to clear her mind, hopeful that the space would leave her in a better state. But it appeared she’d have no such luck today, so she squared her shoulders and walked toward the car, kneeling in a manner she hoped was graceful but was probably more like a fish flop.
    It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark interior, but she didn’t need to see him to know he was there, didn’t need to smell his masculine scent, hear the gravelly tone of his voice when he spoke. No, she was aware of him on an elemental level, knew from the way her skin prickled and her body sparked with awareness that she’d be able to find him in a crowded room even if she were blindfolded. She idly wondered if he could do the same but then shut that down. This was about Ethan and the future, and whatever they might have had someday was gone.
    She couldn’t let herself forget that.
    The driver had closed the door and made his way back behind the steering wheel, she presumed, because the car slid away from the curb, the low roar of the engine the only sound penetrating the interior, mixing with the low murmur of Alexander’s words.
    When she looked at him, he nodded and smiled, but continued speaking, apparently in no hurry to end his conversation. She felt a prick of annoyance. Everyone knew it was impolite to use a cell phone in a car. Yeah, that was why she could feel her anger increasing by the second. She didn’t care at all that he seemed so indifferent to her presence, that she was so insignificant that she didn’t deserve a proper greeting. And she most certainly wasn’t comparing this ride to the first time they’d met, all the times after, when she’d been his singular focus. No, this was actually a good thing. She’d wanted time to compose herself, and he was giving it, no matter that he was being a jerk about it.
    She looked around the car, but couldn’t resist settling