Chapter 11Markle stirred from sleep as a wave of heat enveloped him. The warmth, like a lover’s embrace, circled through his body, flowing with the blood in his veins. His eyes fluttered open just as he heard the door click softly.
He jolted up in bed, looking quickly around the room. Frye’s bed was empty and the chair was removed from under the door’s knob.
The dancer was up to something, and Markle intended to find out what. Was he going to perform somewhere else? Get more money he didn’t have to split with Markle?
A worse thought followed that one’s heels. Maybe he’s off to find a lover. He turns me down, but doesn’t have a problem bedding someone else.
The wave of depression at the idea startled Markle with its strength. He didn’t care about Frye; not like that.
Keep lying to your
