Page 73 of Prelude To You

“You asked me to explain happiness to you,” I hissed. “And I did. Leave your personal feelings about Sergei out of this. You don’t know him and you never will.”

Roman’s exasperation was coated with the flimsiest layer of casualness. He continued his ambush with deliberate restraint. “If you’re concerned about my happiness outside of our little bubble, shouldn’t I be concerned about yours too? There’s no justice in the world when a man can’t bring a woman like you to the heights of pleasure she’s capable of reaching. Which it seems he doesn’t or can’t. Or you wouldn’t be looking for it here, tonight, with me.”

I froze. Guilt spread rapidly through me.Had I mentioned Sergei to antagonize Roman?Yes, maybe I did. But whichever way, I was responsible for those words Roman just spoke, and that hurt me for Sergei’s sake.

At that moment Roman realized he’d crossed the line. He watched me, those blue eyes flooding with remorse. But something else nagged at me. This was not a man who felt nothing. He just didn’t recognize what it was he felt.

His eyes pleaded with mine. “I’m sorry, that was an asinine thing to say.”

I wasn’t about to admit that I’d subconsciously baited him.

“It’s fine. What’s puzzling here is why you said it. What difference does my sex life make to you beyond that tryst in the hallway?”

“You want to know why I said it.”

I wasn’t going to ask again.

He leaned closer, his eyes the darkest, fiercest blue. “Because for a moment I imagined another man’s hands on you, and it wasn’t a feeling I particularly cared for.”

And if that didn’t send a flaming arrow straight between my thighs.

I simply couldn’t help the little smirk injecting itself into my lips. “Well now you have me curious.”

“And why is that?”

Before I could answer a high, modulated voice called out from behind us.

“Roman!”

It was a gorgeous woman in her late twenties, in a stunning evening dress. Where Celeste was trying hard for classy and failing miserably, this woman oozed class from the crown of her silver-blonde hair to the tips of her manicured toes. There was no doubt she was well-bred and well-tended.

The type of woman you’d expect on Roman’s arm.

With a dazzling smile, she moved right up to him. He gently kissed her on the cheek, and even if he wasn’t expressing optimal joy, I knew by the way she looked at him that they’d slept together.

And my God if it didn’t kill me that I was looking at someone who’d had Roman inside of her.

“How are you, stranger?” she asked in the tone a woman would use to address a lover. “You disappeared off the face of the Earth the last few months, all my messages unreturned.”

And then Roman smiled the same smile that filled all the chambers of my heart with red-hot blood until it overflowed intothe empty crevices in my chest. Only now that smile was directed at this lovely woman.

“Just busy,” he said and turned to me. “Isabel, I want you to meet Cassandra. Cassie, this is Isabel.”

Cassie’s inspection of me was quick as lightning but very thorough. She smiled warmly. “Hello, Isabel.”

I returned her smile. “Cassandra, the Trojan princess who stole the god Apollo’s heart.”

“Really?” Cassie said congenially. “That’s interesting. But you must tell me where you get your lash extensions. They are simply perfect. I have to go to New York for mine.”

A frown momentarily crawled over my face before I realized what she was saying. “Oh, actually these aren’t lash extensions,” I said, as amiably as possible. “They’re my own.”

Cassie looked at me, her features pained. “Well, aren’t you blessed.”

Roman’s gaze welded to mine. “That’s not the entire story though, is it?”

Confusion entered the chat. “The fact that these are my own lashes,” I said, “or Cassandra and Apollo’s ill-fated liaison?”

“Cassandra and Apollo,” Roman answered. “I’ve had enough closeups to know those are your real lashes.”