Page 60 of Over the Edge

A gaping hole opened in her heart, a black pit of despair that sucked everything else down, down into it, swallowed in longing and loss. She had a sinking feeling in her belly, rapidly turning into cold certainty, that he would never repeat their lovemaking again.

The best night of her life had just turned into the absolute worst.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Trevor dressed in the tuxedo he’d packed for today’s wedding, his fingers clumsy and his gut churning. Cripes. He would say it was panic giving him this nasty indigestion, except he was an experienced operator. And this had nothing to do with knowing his time with Anna was coming to an end. Nothing at all.

When Anna came downstairs today, dressed in a pastel pink gown, similar in cut to last night’s but even more elaborately embroidered and adorned in a combination of silver and gold, the low-level disturbance in his gut threatened to spill over into outright nausea.

He swallowed against the gurgle in his throat and choked out, “You look amazing.”

“Thanks.” She studied him for a second and asked quickly, under her breath, “Are you okay?”

Hell, no. He was not okay. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Have you eaten, today?”

As if he could swallow anything more than dry toast and antacid tablets. He lied, “Yes. I had a good breakfast.”

“You look nice in your suit,” Anna said almost shyly.

Why would she be shy with him, now? They’d crawled all over each other’s bodies last night. There were no secrets left between them at this juncture. Well, except one. The one that would destroy everything they’d shared together.

He was saved from having to make further conversation by the arrival of Anna’s grandmother, arrayed in dark blue with silver threads picking out traditional patterns on the cloth.

He strode over to Hania and bowed, kissing the back of her hand gallantly. In his best Zagari, he said, “You look like the stars in the night sky and are more beautiful than the rarest flower.”

Hania laughed delightedly and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “He’s a good one, child,” she said to Anna.

“Yes, he is,” she replied warmly.

He moved to Anna’s side as the car pulled up outside and the driver honked the horn. Trevor held his arm out to her. “Shall we?”

She looped her fingers lightly around his elbow as he led her outside. “Areyouall right?” he muttered as he handed her into the back seat of the car.

“Yes.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“You’re acting…off.”

“Last night ended rather abruptly. I guess it threw me off my game,” she replied.

He snorted under his breath.

“It bothered you, too?” she blurted.

“Hell, yes.”

“Don’t swear. My grandmother may not speak English, but she’ll recognize words like that.”

“Copy,” he mumbled, turning to face ahead in the front seat.

The rituals involved with getting the lucky couple married off were fascinating, if lengthy. The only bad part was that much of the day was spent with male and female wedding guests separated as the men helped the groom get ready, and the women helped the bride.

As for him, he did his best to avoid ole’ Gohar and his eager henchman, Mansur Mughul. Azamat and Anna’s other male relatives were pretty decent guys. They joked around with him in terrible English and passed him a flask of vodka that set his throat on fire.

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