Page 113 of The Honest Affair

His touch heated me to my core as I imagined just how Matthew might unwrap me.

“You need to stop looking at me like that, duchess,” he murmured, though the knowing smirk told me he was quite enjoying it.

“Then you need to stop making such suggestive comments.”

“Never.”

I leaned closer so that our noses were only a hair’s breadth apart. “Promise?”

Matthew’s eyes swept closed, then opened again with a new intensity. “With every bone in my body.”

We stared, caught in each other’s thrall for several long seconds. It occurred to me then that this might truly never disappear. Matthew and I had known each other for well over a year now. True, we had never come to that place where the mundane, everyday facts of life threatened to overtake passion. But there was a spark between us that wouldn’t ever really fade, no matter how many events we attended, how many mornings we were blessed to wake up together. The ember it came from was too hot. A fire everlasting.

“Come on, doll,” Matthew said as he pulled at his collar, looking as though it were physically painful not to kiss me. “You promised me a dance or ten.”

“Um, all right,” I said. “But I need to use the powder room first. I’ll meet you at our table?”

“Sounds good. I’ll get us some drinks.”

Matthew took off, blending perfectly into a crowd of couture and some of the most avant-garde fashion in the world. I sighed, and once I had lost sight of him, turned the corner to find the bathroom. But when I reemerged, I ran directly into the last person I wanted to see tonight. Or ever.

My husband.

“Whoa!” Calvin neighed like he was actually the horse he sounded like he was directing, steadying himself by grabbing and nearly knocking over one of the posts demarcating where guests could and could not go.

“Calvin? What are you doing here?”

I hadn’t seen him this close for so long, and he looked quite different. He hadn’t lost weight exactly, but everything about him seemed to have sagged in the last several months so that his tuxedo billowed a bit, as though it had been tailored for another body. His skin, always with a sheen of sweat, now looked pallid and blotchy, the red tip of his nose having spread to other parts. His eyes also had the same glaze as the nights when he would turn to me in a bourbon-soaked rage.

I shied toward the wall. “You need to go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, princess. Is that what you think?” he said. “Live somewhere else and you can just tell me what to do? I have some things to say to you. And I’m not leaving until you listen.”

I scowled, but glanced nervously at the other guests, who were looking at us curiously.

“Please,” I asked, trying for a bit more courtesy and ignoring the pounding of my heart. Every single part of me was screaming run. “I promise. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Ha. I’ve heard that before,” Calvin sneered.

I looked around for a security guard or one of the personnel, but then my phone buzzed with a text.

Matthew:You coming? I’m about to go in.

I swallowed.Oh, dear. What would Matthew do if he saw Calvin? What would Calvin do if he saw Matthew? Hastily, I tucked the phone back into my clutch, but not before Calvin grabbed my arm and turned me back to face him.

“Who was that?”

I wriggled my hand out of his sweaty grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

“Was that him? I saw the name. Marcus or Matthew or something like that. Are you seeing someone?!”

His voice was erratic, wavering over the words. He sounded desperate and looked even worse.

“Keep it down,” I pleaded. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, Calvin, but you need to go. Now.”

“I came because we need to talk!” Calvin snapped. “Without the damn lawyers. Just you and me.”

“What makes you think I would ever want to be in a room with you alone?” I shouldn’t have argued back, but suddenly I couldn’t help it. “Honestly. The restraining order might have expired, but my distaste for you has not. I don’t know why you decided to come here tonight, but it was a mistake. We are all but finished with each other. It’s over.”

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