Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Tatum ushers us through the crowd, and despite holding a royal title, I feel out of place in my simple yet elegant pearl sheath. As if sensing my discomfort, Sebastian laces his fingers with mine, offering a quick squeeze.
He has a way of picking up on my moods, from arousal to unease, and his sexy smile reassures me. We enter a gigantic room with vaulted ceilings and dark wooden beams, and I relax a little. An arched fireplace separates the space, drawing the eye from all sides.
“Stick close to Sebastian,” Tatum says, his tone serious. “Understand?”
“Okay.” I narrow my eyes. “Are you going somewhere?”
He sends a lingering glance around the room, taking in the guests, from celebrities and social media influencers, to the waitstaff carrying trays of finger foods and champagne flutes.
“I need to find someone.” He looks between Sebastian and me. “Enjoy the party.” Tatum disappears into the crowd, and I’m still bewildered by his abrupt exit, and more curious than I should be about who this someone is, when I spot Axel near the fireplace.
Sebastian sighs, already staring the other man down. “If he doesn’t stop looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, we’re going to have problems.”
I can’t deny that Axel makes me nervous, especially when he winks at me and gestures us over to where he’s standing with Dedra and a group of models.
“He’s got connections,” I remind him as we bridge the space.
“I was hoping you’d make it tonight.” Axel smiles at me before nodding at the stunning brunette standing next to him. “Dedra, you remember Novalee, right?”
“Of course.” She raises her chin. “Axel has been talking non-stop about your designs. Congratulations on wooing the crowd.”
“Thank you.” I can’t tell if she’s sincere, but no one seems to question her praise.
Conversation flows for the next few minutes, the main topic being the fashion show, and then Alejandro Von Jean arrives, and the famous designer pulls me into an animated discussion about career branding and risk-taking moves.
At the first lull in the conversation, Sebastian leans down and speaks into my ear. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. Can I get you anything?” His eyes haven’t strayed from Axel, his hostility on full display. I’m not sure if there’s a deeper reason, or if he’s just being his usual possessive self, but I figure a minute away from Axel might do him some good.
“I’ll take a seltzer water.”
“One seltzer water coming up.” He kisses my cheek before winding his way toward the bar.
Axel wastes no time in taking his spot. “So he’s the one, huh?”
“The one?”
“The one you’re hoping wins the auction.”
If Landon’s plan goes off without a hitch, I won’t need to hope for anything, but I can’t tell him that. “Yes, he’s the one.”
An amused smirk plays on his lips. “I was so sure it was Ford.”
“Ford is a friend. Sebastian is…”
Everything.
“Being the one and all,” Axel says, moving closer, “he should know better than to leave you unattended.” His finger trails down my cheek, grazing the same spot Sebastian’s lips touched, and a shiver travels down my spine.
Shuffling back a step, I look for Sebastian, hoping to find him heading toward me, drink in hand. Instead, I spot him at the bar with a striking redhead. He’s leaning toward her, his familiar smile aimed at this gorgeous stranger in a way that makes my teeth clench.
There’s no way he just met her.
He knows this woman—I’m sure of it.
Who is she?
The question has barely materialized in my mind when their foreheads inch close together—as if whatever they’re saying is too important to be overheard.
And why is she touching his arm?
Dread slithers through my gut, shooting icy fear through me, and I forget all about Axel’s unsettling advances.
I tell myself it’s nothing. My mind is being unfair, giving in to a knee-jerk reaction. An unnecessary dose of panic. But that’s the problem with fear—left unchecked, it takes on the form of paranoia.
And now that paranoia rises in my throat, tasting of vomit and insecurity. What happened in Tatum’s bedroom last night springs to the forefront of my mind with sickening clarity.
Every lick of his tongue.
Every cry of pleasure from my treacherous lips.
Every moan.
Sebastian had reservations—massive ones he tried to ignore by pounding his hurt and anger into my ass.
And I have the audacity to fall apart at the sight of him talking to another woman?
Needing a moment to gather my thoughts, I excuse myself from Axel and his group of important people. Tears threaten, but I hold them back as I make my way into the quiet foyer. A couple heads my way, so I loiter in the shadows behind a statue of some formidable figurehead and wait for them to pass.
But I can’t hide forever.
I can’t hide from what I’ve done. My shame is so hot it might as well brand a scarlet letter on my forehead, a burned carving of self sabotage. Shuttering my eyes, I pull in long breaths and let them out, willing my racing thoughts to subside.