The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

told her as soon as he’d recognized just what a lucky bastard he was. Should have told her that he wanted this marriage to be real.
    His footsteps sounded overly loud in the quiet and he tried to shrug off the sensation of abandonment that clung to the house. Taking the stairs two at a time, he hit the landing at a dead run and raced down the carpeted hallway toward the master bedroom. He pushed the door open, and felt his heart drop to his toes when he didn’t see her. Then he rushed to the bathroom. No sign of Megan. Anywhere.
    His gaze dropped to the gleaming blue-green tiles and noticed that her wide array of creams and lotions, her hairbrush, even her toothbrush, were missing. His heart stopped momentarily. “Doesn’t mean anything,” he muttered. “Not a thing.” She wouldn’t leave. Not without a word.
    Not without telling him, damn it.
    But anxiety chewed on him, nibbling at the corners of his heart, tearing at his soul with dread as he turned and headed back out into the hallway. It was a big house, he told himself. She could be anywhere. “Megan?”
    He swallowed hard as he took the stairs going down, just as quickly as he had going up. By the time he hit the foyer again, Simon’s insides were churning and his brain was racing.
    Then he saw her. Standing beside the open front door, looking at him with a world of pain in her eyes and a steely determination on her face.
    “Megan.” He started toward her, but she backed up, shaking her head.
    “Don’t, Simon. Don’t make this harder. On either of us.”
    Harder? What could be harder than that feeling of mindless despair when he couldn’t find her?
    “What’re you talking about?” His blood rushed through his veins, clouding his vision, thundering inside his head.
    “I’m going.”
    “Going where?” Two words. All he could manage.
    “Doesn’t matter,” she said and swallowed hard. Her summer-green eyes filled with tears she frantically blinked away. “I’m sorry. Sorry about all of this. The mess with my father—you being involved. I’m sorry.”
    Damn it. He took a step closer, but she kept pace, backing up until she was now on the porch, with the night behind her. He was too wary to try to get closer. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
    She laughed, but there was no humor in it, only regret. “I’m an Ashton,” she reminded him wryly. “Apparently, that’s more than enough reason to be sorry.”
    “This isn’t about you, Megan,” Simon said and wished to hell she’d come back into the house. So they could talk.
    She shook her head again and lifted her chin in a defiant tilt he recognized. “I’m packed.”
    Panic rushed through him again, this time making his knees weak. “Packed? Why?”
    “I’m leaving, Simon. I have to. You saw the reporters out there.” When he opened his mouth to argue, she cut him off. “They’re not going to be leaving anytime soon. This thing with my father is only going to get worse and I’m not going to bring your family down with mine. I won’t do it, Simon.”
    “Don’t you think you should let me decide that?”
    “No. Decision’s made. We had an agreement when we got married. No scandals, remember?” She gave him another smile and a wrenching pain slammed through him as he read goodbye in her eyes.
    “Megan, don’t.”
    “I’ll sign the divorce papers as soon as they’re ready.” She turned away and started walking. “Goodbye Simon.”
    He couldn’t move. He wanted to chase her down and drag her back. Hold her tightly enough that she couldn’t walk away from him again. But he suddenly felt as though he were made of stone. He couldn’t force life into his limbs. He stood there like a man who’d been cut in two and didn’t know enough to fall down.
    The night swallowed her while he stood alone in the big house that had her memory stamped all over it.
    His plan had failed. She hadn’t said she loved him first, so she’d left, never knowing how much he loved her.
    Not knowing that by leaving, she was killing him.

Chapter Twelve
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    H iding out on the estate wasn’t exactly the brainiest idea Megan had ever had. After all, it was like trying to hide from sharks by diving off the Great Barrier Reef.
    The Ashton estate was like a medieval castle under siege. No one but family was allowed in, all tours and events had been canceled. Reporters still clustered outside the gates. Freshly hired security guards kept them at bay, but that didn’t mean