Page 6 of The Ring Thief
“No.” I sip delicately at my Chardonnay. The crisp, chilled liquid slides down my throat almost too easily. “Just got too much sun today, I think.”
He finishes eating and lays his cutlery down, still watching me curiously. “Should’ve stayed and napped with me.” With a soft chuckle, he reaches across the table, clasping my hand in his. I forcibly lower my shoulders, using every ounce of my self-control to stop myself from snatching my hand from his grip.
“We can have an early night,” he says suggestively, thumb brushing over my knuckles. My eyes drop to the movement as he smooths it over my wedding rings, just like he did the night before. My chest goes tight, my breath catching in my throat, and I want to yank my hand away, to rip the rings off and throw them at him.
“What do you say?” he continues, oblivious. “We can get dessert to go, snuggle up in bed and put a movie on.” I look up, his chocolate eyes heating as they lock with mine.
Before today, that would’ve been all it took—one molten look, a stroke of his skin against mine, the way he rubs his thumb over his full lower lip, and he knows it. He’s made an art form of studying my bodyand my reactions to him, learning exactly what to do to make me breathless, panties damp and lust flaring sharp and hot in my chest.
Now, I just feel like ice is sliding through my veins, my hand lying limply in his as his conversation with Silvia echoes in my ears. I lower my lashes, desperate to hide from his watching eyes.
“Sorry, Dec,” I murmur. “I think I’d rather just sleep. I’ve got this horrible headache.”
Through my lashes, I see his brows dip down, his desire morphing into concern. “You’re not getting sick, are you?” He leans closer, his hand lifting from mine as if he’s about to touch my forehead. I casually shift back, pretending like I didn’t see, and swap my wine for a glass of water.
“No,” I say quietly. “Just too much sun, like I said. And everything’s catching up with me, I think.” I smile wanly. “It’s been a rough few weeks.”
He sinks back into his seat, his frown easing slightly. “You definitely put your all into planning the wedding. It was an amazing day.”
I hum a small noise of agreement, eyes roving around the restaurant, desperately looking for a place to focus that isn’t him. “Everyone said they had an amazing time.” A devilish imp lifts its head, pushing me to add, “Even Silvia looked like she had fun.” I look back at him, flashing a small, unassuming smile.
He shrugs, his jaw going tight. “I didn’t notice.” The words feel false, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m reading too much into it. I’ve never been worried about his friendship with Silvia. Not until now.
I’m not typically an insecure person, and I think it’s entirely possible for men and women to have platonic friendships. Even when Silvia was shooting subtle digs at me, making acidic comments designed to slice straight at my self-esteem, I hadn’t thought there was anything between them. Declan has always treated her like everyone else.
Now, I’m looking back at our entire relationship through a new lens, wondering when the betrayal started, or if we had ever been real. I think of all the times he worked late, of every canceled date and trip away, every excuse he’d ever given me.
Had he actually been with her?
Did he think about her while he was with me?
Did he fuck me imagining Silvia’s face?
The wine sits uncomfortably in my empty stomach, and it cramps, my mouth filling with saliva. I must have grimaced, because Declan’s up and striding around the table. He gently clasps my elbow and pulls me up.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of here.”
Floundering for an excuse to pull away from him and coming up blank, I let him lead me out of the restaurant and back to the resort, wondering how the hell one day—one conversation—can ruin everything.
CHAPTER 4
Lily
Declan hustles me into our suite, helping me to get ready for bed. He even goes as far as putting toothpaste on my toothbrush for me, hovering over me until I shoo him away.
He watches, eagle-eyed as I climb into bed, feeling oddly numb. Nothing feels real—every action, every word, every twitch of his expression…it’s all shrouded in suspicion, making me wonder what he’s truly after.
He slides into bed beside me, rolling onto his side and making the mattress dip, tipping me towards him. I hold myself stiffly, even as he curls his arms around me, holding me tight to him.
It’s as if he thinks I’m about to float away.
For a second, a heartbeat, I think about leaning into him. Nuzzling my face against the soft fuzz covering his chest. It would be so easy to pretend this day had never even happened. Unable to help myself, I relax against him, letting his body heat soothe me. He presses his lips to my jaw, my cheek, the corner of my mouth, and just when I’m about to let it happen, he opens his mouth.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs.
The pain steals my breath, it hurts so badly, and I mash my lips together, just to make sure not a single sound escapes my mouth. Theroom is dark enough that he doesn’t see my reaction, so I press my hands to his chest, gently pushing him away.
“Sorry,” I whisper, letting a hint of remorse creep into my voice. “My head… It’s just—I think I just need to sleep.”
