Page 118 of It Must Be Fate

“I think he lives exclusively to find ways to put a smile on your face.”

“He’s very good at it,” she admits, the signature smile her husband loves to pull out of her blooming on her lips.

I look over at where the guys are standing and find Phoenix with his gaze pinned heatedly on his wife. She hasn’t noticed yet, too busy telling me about how they’re not rushing into adoption and ‘they’ll know’ if and when the right child comes along. Phoenix tracks every movement of her lips the entire time she speaks. He’s too far away to hear a word she says or even read her lips, but he stares anyway, his gaze unwavering. Rogue, Tristan, and Rhys talk animatedly around him but he pays them no mind.

When he sees me watching him, he tips his chin at me in a request to get his wife’s attention.

“Um, Sixtine,” I say, clearing my throat. The intensity of his gaze on her has me feeling flush via secondhand contact.

“Yeah?”

“I think Phoenix might be ready for round six.”

“What?” She lifts her head and looks around until her gaze connects with his. He tilts his head to the side slowly, his face settling into a peaceful expression but his eyes turning smoldering with possession.

“Yeah, he’sdefinitelyready for round six.”

A blush creeps steadily up her neck. “Oh.”

“Gobefore he causes a scene. We can talk later,” I add with a laugh.

“Bye,” she answers distractedly, her feet already carrying her across the room to him.

Phoenix doesn’t let her do all the work—he leaves the trio behind and meets her halfway. He swallows her hand in his and tugs her after him, no doubt to find the nearest room with a locking door. This is a five-star hotel so one item this place has in excess is beds, but something tells me Phoenix isn’t going tohave the patience to go through the process of checking into a room before having his way with Six.

“I’m glad your friend finally left,” a voice calls from behind me.

I turn to find an attractive man with blond hair and blue eyes, a lean build, wearing an expensive tux standing before me. He gives me a charming smile.

“I’ve been waiting all night for a chance to get you alone.” His eyes rake languidly down the length of my body and back up. He hums appreciatively. “That’s a very beautiful dress.”

I’m wearing a burnt orange designer gown with an embellished illusion bodice. The peplum style top is crowned with a sweetheart neckline. It narrows at the waist and flares at my hips before dropping into a straight, floor-length skirt. With my pitch-black hair pinned away from my face and straightened into a glossy mane down my back, I know I look both elegant and beautiful.

“Thank you,” I say, and because I’m not in the mood to extend this conversation any longer than is strictly necessary, I add with a decided lack of subtlety, “My husband is going to be ripping it off me later tonight. I’d wager with his teeth.”

I get a real kick out of watching the man choke on a sip of champagne. He brings his glass down from his lips and coughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Well, that’s certainlyoneway to tell me you’re not interested.”

“Would you like to hear another?” inquires a dark voice at my back.

A chest presses against me from behind and ignites a fire low in my gut with the barest of touches. The heat of his body envelops mine and makes my heart clench violently in response to his presence. I’m not surprised; Tristan is never far from me at these events, no matter what it may look like. He lurks closeeven when we’re separated, always at the ready to intervene if needed.

And clearly, right now he feels it’s needed.

My pulse flutters when I feel the dominant press of his hand on my waist. A wave of arousal washes over my skin, tightening my nipples and causing a raw ache to throb in my pussy.

He curls me territorially into his side and I can’t help but moan softly at the feel of him against me, at the way he overtakes my senses.

Similarly affected, Tristan makes a quiet noise of pure male satisfaction when I lean closer still and daintily cover his left hand on my waist with mine.

The man’s eyes drop down once more, this time registering the large diamond ring now visible on my fourth finger.

“Apologies.” He inclines his head in a conciliatory manner, his tone amiable. “I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“Mywifevery much is,” Tristan answers, not without bite. “And now you know, so leave.”

The man puts his hands up in a universal sign of surrender and backs away, eventually disappearing into the crowd.

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