Page 126 of Be My Bride

And then it smacks the floor, bawling out as little pieces of it shatter and sprinkle like glass shards.

Svena knows my husband.

Those eyes hold sensual secrets that I thought I owned the key to.

Those lips have tasted him.

And been tasted in return.

I almost stumble.

It takes everything, everything inside me to walk away with my head held high. Right now, I’m clinging to politeness by my fingernails. I’m gripping on with all the strength in my body. But it’s falling apart by the second.

I inhale thick, frantic breaths.

My intuition thumps against my soul, knocking and knocking, refusing to leave until it’s roused my old fears and doubts. Until the old, by-the-books Asia answers.

As we walk away from Svena, Hansley places his hand on my back. The huge cut-out allows his rough fingers to graze my skin.

Down the dip of my spine.

Warmth in the cold.

A minute ago and that touch would have sent me into a tailspin of desire. Hansley left me on the brink back at the house. He left me panting for him, needing more.

He guaranteed that I’d spend the entirety of this dinner thinking about what we would do when it was over.

But it all went up in flames.

So quickly.

So fragile.

I stare into his brown eyes, searching for reassurances.

That I’m overreacting.

Thinking too much.

That we all have a past.

Hell, Thad was mine.

But I don’t find it.

He’s shuttered. Distant.

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

It’s obvious he’s worried about something.

I pick up on it and multiply it until I’m an anxious wreck.

The dinner is painful.

Tierra and Brett carry that meeting on their backs.

By the time our third course rolls around, my head aches and I’m more than ready to go home. Instead, I politely excuse myself to the bathroom.

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