Page 117 of The Perfect Mistake

I kiss him, and he groans against my lips, his hands tugging at my dress. I help him, ruching the fabric up to my waist. He rests me against the edge of a desk and kisses me so deeply, I can’t catch a breath.

“Then do it,” I say, reaching for his belt buckle. “I don’t care if the odds are against us. I just want you.”

His breathing is hard, and he shifts to stroke between my legs, over the thin fabric of my panties. “You’re wet.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. Here, let me—”

The door opens, and a bright light shines into the darkened space.

In the doorway, the illuminated shape of a familiar person.

“Isabel?” Connie asks cheerfully.

Then she freezes, seeing Alec and me together.

Alec

I block Isabel from my sister’s view. Isabel is still fully dressed, but it’s instinctual, something I can’t resist.

“Alec?” Connie asks. My name sounds faint on her lips, and then she backs out of her own home study, and the door slams shut in her wake.

“Shit,” Isabel says. She pushes me away and jumps off the desk, pulling her dress down over her hips. “Shit, I can’t believe that just… Oh my God.”

“It’ll be fine,” I say. But my voice sounds hollow.

Isabel runs a hand over her face. “This wasn’t how she was supposed to find out. I can’t… I need to talk to her.”

“Let me do it,” I say.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m the one who needs to… shit. What if she’ll hate me?”

I frown. “Of course she won’t.”

“She very well might, because I’ve been pretending like nothing’s been going on, and because she is the one who set me up for this job…”

“Hey, I’ll do it. Let me talk to her. Do you want to go home?”

Her eyes linger on mine for a long moment, but then she shakes her head. “No, I need to do it. We’ll go together.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

I sound a lot calmer than I feel. We walk back out and into a party that looks no different than when we left it. People are still laughing, and playing, and chatting, as if a bomb hasn’t just gone off.

Gabriel is leaning against the kitchen counter. I take one look at his eyes and know Connie’s already told him. My stomach sinks.

His gaze is inscrutable, moving from Isabel at my side to me.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“I’m not sure she wants to talk to you right now,” he tells me. His voice gentles when he turns to Isabel. “She’s in the bedroom upstairs.”

“Thanks,” Isabel whispers. She disappears, weaving through party guests to the staircase that leads to the upper floor.

I watch her disappear. “So Connie doesn’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Not right now,” Gabriel says. “Your sister’s best friend? Your hired nanny?”

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