Page 82 of The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée
If anything, seeing her after all this time only sends a pulse of heat racing through him. He's missed her more than he'd realized.
Then his brain registers what the man said.
"What do you mean? Guts?" Jace asks, still not taking his eyes off Sienna, who's now listening intently to the team pitching. Something about "tribespotting, meeting locals who share a passion for similar kinds of coffee".
The other man's voice turns suggestive.
"You mean you haven't seen the video?" The man chuckles.
"What video?" Jace doesn't bother lowering his voice.
For the first time, he notices the whispering in the room. The girl in the row in front of him titters, as if she's in on a joke. One he's not aware of.
A cold hand grips Jace's heart.
He turns to the other man. "Show me."
Phone whipped out, screen swiped to YouTube, and then Jace sees the video.
The sound of heavy breathing, then moans. Jace stares at the couple on screen. Lush auburn hair covers the woman's face. It flows over her chest, covering her breasts.
She raises her head, exposing the expanse of her throat. Then opens her eyes straight into the camera, a gasp leaving her lips.
It’s Sienna.
A younger Sienna, with fuller features. Lips unpainted.
Jace knows the taste of those lips.
Sickness twists his gut. What the fuck is she doing in this video? Who made the video? And who is the boy with her?
Purple-black fury races through him, his fingers curl around the phone.
Another groan escapes her, and his body reacts to it, even as he curses himself. He tries to make out the face of the man behind her. It's pixelated but from his bony shoulders he too seems young, a teenager.
The camera freezes on her profile.
Who could do this to her?
More importantly, was she aware of being filmed?
She must know the video has been leaked.
And yet here she was, on stage, composed and facing the audience. No sign of worry or discomfort on her face.
Either she doesn't give a damn that people had seen the video or what they thought of her. Or she's doing a damn fine job of ignoring them.
In this room, at least, she had the power. And she was holding onto it. She was refusing to let the video get the better of her. That took guts alright.
As he's thinking that, she raises her eyes and meets his gaze, squarely. She freezes, her shoulders still. Even at this distance, he can see her go pale.
Sienna's as surprised to see him as he was to see her.
Grabbing her bag, she bends down to say something to the Frenchman, kissing his cheek before leaving to walk out the side door.
The man next to him grabs his phone, pocketing it before jumping to his feet and joining the rest of his team who have been called in to pitch.
A low buzz breaks out among the audience, and Jace can feel most eyes in the audience following her out.
