Page 53 of The Devious Husband

He nods and smirks. “You don’t hear me complaining. I never get to hang out with you anymore. I’ve missed you, you know?”

“We see each other every other week,” I tell him, laughing. “We literally have a standing meeting.”

His smile wavers, and he nods. “Yeah, but it isn’t the same. We used to hang out together and grab dinner.”

I look away, remembering the way he walked out of my office when he realized Xavier and I were together. He called me the next day and apologized for reacting the way he did, and we never spoke of it again, but I still find it a little awkward to be alone with him.

“The three of us should grab dinner together sometime,” I say carefully. I tried not to notice, but it’s clear he doesn’t see me as just a friend, and I’m not comfortable having dinner with him alone. It doesn’t feel right.

“And risk the wrath of your husband for intruding on even a second of your time together? I know better than to get on Xavier Kingston’s bad side.”

I roll my eyes. “Xavier is just one big teddy bear. It’s hard to get on his bad side — trust me, I’ve tried.”

“You’re just as delusional as he is,” Graham says, laughing. “You could never get on his bad side, because he’s always been on your side. You just never realized it, and those of us who did never understood just how deep his affection for you ran.”

I stare at him wide-eyed, and he chuckles as he takes my champagne glass and puts it away before taking my hand. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s dance. Who knows if I’ll ever get another chance to dance with you.”

I chuckle as I take his hand, only to freeze when I spot my husband walking into the room, a beautiful woman on his arm that I vaguely recognize. Isn’t she an up and coming singer? I stare at him in shock as the brunette lets go of his arm to take his hand, throwing him one of those spoiled expressions as she drags him to the dance floor. He smiles indulgently as he lets her, and fury and heartache battle for dominance as I begin to see red.

Did he think I wouldn’t have come without him? Did he think I wouldn’t have heard if he brought a date to an event I expected to attend with him? I stare at them shell-shocked, my eyes roaming over that tux he’s wearing, before moving to the beautiful brunette in her dazzling black dress. He must’ve changed on the plane, and he never even told me that he’d be able to make it.

His hand wraps around her waist, and I take a step forward. “Excuse me,” I tell Graham, my body thrumming with indignation. He says something that doesn’t quite register, my focus solely on my husband.

I can feel countless eyes on me as the crowd parts, until I’m only a few steps away from Xavier. He looks up, surprise flickering through his eyes when I place my hand on his arm. “Apologies for cutting in,” I tell his date. “I’ve been looking forward to dancing with my husband.”

She smiles sweetly and steps away, seemingly not taking offense at all, nor does she seem surprised at the way I referred to him. Xavier, on the other hand, looks at me with fiery eyes. “Kitten,” he murmurs as he takes me in his arms. “You look a little murderous. I think I like that look on you.”

I glare at him and wrap my arms around his neck, my body pressed flush against his. This isn’t a civil dance — not in the slightest. “Who is she?” I ask, my voice breaking.

He looks at me in confusion, like the idea of him being with her is preposterous, and then he chuckles. “Sierra, that’s Calliope, my brother’s best friend. Hunter is very much in love with her, though he’d never admit it, and I don’t have the least bit of interest in her. I am, however, very interested in your reaction.” My shoulders sag in relief, and he stares at me in wonder, sometime akin to hope sparkling in his eyes. “I thought you wanted to keep me hidden, that you wouldn’t want me to approach you so openly the second I walked in.”

“I don’t,” I tell him, and his expression falls. He puts a little bit of space between us, but I bridge it and thread my hand through his hair. “I don’t want to keep you hidden, Xavier.”

His eyes widen in shock, and I smile as I lean in to kiss him, ignoring the gasps I hear around us. He groans and instantly deepens our kiss, my body melting into his. We’re both breathing hard by the time I pull away, and he looks at me like he’s trying commit this moment to memory. “You’re mine, Xavier Kingston,” I tell him. “And I want the world to know it.”

Forty-Seven

Sierra

I stare at all the articles about Xavier and me, each of them having captured a slightly different moment of the lead-up to me grabbing Xavier and kissing him. I blush fiercely as I look at all the comments and the outrageous speculative headlines.

Sierra Windsor sabotages Xavier Kingston’s date

Sierra Windsor jealous of more than just her rival’s success

Sierra and Xavier clash at fundraiser— but not the way we expected

“For god’s sake,” I mutter, my heart racing. The way I look at him in these photos leaves very little guesswork, in my opinion, and they still can’t quite get it right. Honestly, at this rate, the headlines should’ve just read Sierra kisses Xavier in a jealous fit. Even Sierra and Xavier reveal their relationship would’ve made more sense than this.

“Kitten?”

I gasp and jump up in surprise when Xavier walks into my office holding a giant bouquet of pale pink Juliet roses — my favorite. It shouldn’t surprise me that he knows such little details about me. He shows his affection in unexpected ways, and I’ve learnt that it often comes in this shape — it’s him proving that he pays attention to every little thing I do or say, and remembering little remarks that anyone else would’ve forgotten.

“These are gorgeous,” I whisper as I take them from him, suddenly feeling incredibly shy. He doesn’t know how meaningful these kinds of things are to me. These are all things I’ve been reading about for years but never got to experience for myself, until him.

“Not quite as gorgeous as you are,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. My eyes flutter closed, and I rise to my tiptoes, deepening our kiss.

Xavier is breathing hard when he pulls back, his forehead dropping to mine. “It’s six,” he whispers. “And I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me? I can wait for you if you’re still busy with work.”

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