Page 124 of One Wealthy Wedding

“I told people that you’re the girl I always wanted. That everyone I’ve been with since you has been a means of erasing the memory of you. How you taste. How you feel.”

“Please stop,” I whisper.

“Why?” His voice is low.

“It’s too much.” I drag in a breath. “I can pretend with you. I promise. But I don’t want to talk about the past.”

At nineteen, I would have given anything for Theo’s words to be true. And the fact that he’s using our past as a lie to help his business? I hate it.

Theo frowns, like he’s going to argue with me.

“Let’s get this over with,” I say before he can respond, then I turn for the door.

Shopping with Theo turns out to be unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. And I’ve been to my fair share of fancy stores. But here, he’s greeted by name, and I’m greeted as Mrs. Archer. Every store we step into has a back room reserved for us, with water and champagne.

Theo doesn’t buy anything. He just watches me with those searing green eyes as I run my hands over dresses in every color.

I missed this. Not the shopping, but the freedom of not worrying about anything, just enjoying a day of indulgence. Perhaps I appreciate it even more now. My insides do a little dance of happiness when I see a dress in the perfect pink shade.

“Definitely that one,” Theo says from behind me. He’s like a bodyguard. Always watching over me, reaching around me to slip his credit card into the cashier’s hands at each store.

“I didn’t know you had such definite opinions on women’s clothing,” I say, glancing at him. He changed into a linen suit in olive green before leaving the hotel, and it might the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him wear. His skin seems tanner, his eyes brighter.

“Oh, I do. Especially when it comes to taking it off.” He winks.

I groan and turn back to the dress, fingering the delicate straps that tie in looping bows at the back, the lace edging the top of the bodice. It’s frilly and perfect and something I would have worn before and loved.

“Try it, Cat.” His voice is at my ear, raising goose bumps on my skin. “It’s the exact color of your lips.”

I freeze, my pulse hammering.

“I’m not that girl anymore.” I slide him a glance.

He’s frowning. “What does that mean?”

“Where am I going to wear a frilly pink dress? Certainly not to class. It would be ruined in an hour at the bar.” As much as I want it, I need to be realistic.

“Wear it with me. To brunch. Or dinner. Wear it on the boat tomorrow.”

“This is going to end,” I whisper. “I’m going back to my regular life.” Why doesn’t he understand this? “It’s worse to have something and have it taken away. I’d rather not have it at all. So stop.” I turn on him. “Stop trying to make things nice for me. Stop being kind. Just be an asshole, and then when it ends, I’ll be happy it did.” I press my palms against my eyes. My shoulders are shaking and my heart is racing, and, fuck, I hate this. A cold Theo I could handle. But he’s not cold. He’s impossibly wonderful. My heart is already entangled, and I can’t bear for my head to be.

He grasps my wrists and tug my hands down. His eyes are soft. “I’m not going to be an asshole to you.”

“Please, Theo.” Don’t let me fall for you.

“Try the dress,” he says. He reaches around to remove the dress from where it’s perched. A sales associate rushes over to add it to the dressing room. I open my mouth to argue, but a group of women comes in, laughing and posing to take photos. I recognize one of them. She’s an influencer from New York who vacations in Europe. She sees Theo, then me, and she whispers to her friends.

“Come on.” He tugs me toward the back room, ignoring the women, though I know this is all for their benefit.

“Turn around,” I hiss, when we’re shut inside the opulent changing room. Theo sips champagne and leans against the wall.

“I’m not looking.” He takes his phone out, as if to prove a point. I turn and slip my shoes and my dress off.

I can still hear the women giggling through the door. A slam of another door, and then I hear “That’s his wife. The disgraced socialite. Heard her family cut her off.” The words are crystal clear through the wall. They must be in the room next door.

In the mirror, I see Theo go still and then take two quick steps toward me.

“I can’t believe he married her,” the woman continues. “She always seemed boring to me. I used to run into her at parties. She was so…meek. I don’t know what a guy like him is doing with a girl like her. It won’t last. He has his pick of women.”

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