A few hours later I’m in a cocktail dress that feels too tight around my hips, too snug around my breasts and I’m clutching a glass of nonalcoholic sparkling wine like a lifeline.
My stomach is in knots.
The gallery is swarming with people, the buzz in the room excited. Theo and another one of Jensen’s security team, Luca, are standing close, scanning every face like they’re hostile.
Jensen’s across the room, deep in conversation with a few investors. He has that easy look on his face he gets when he’s enjoying himself. This is where my husband shines. He can empty anyone’s wallet just through the art of conversation.
As if he knows I’m staring, his eyes find mine, heated and sinful as he slides them down my body. He definitely likes the dress, and I’m pretty sure he’ll be peeling me out of it once this event is over. My thighs clench in anticipation and I take another sip of my drink to cover the fact I really want to cross the room and mount my husband like a stallion.
“If I have to speak to one more person about why modern art has a place in creative circles, I’m going to scream!” Juno’s voice slices through my thoughts and I almost choke on my drink.
I drag my gaze away from Jensen to her. She’s flushed, her irritation palpable. I get it. There’re a lot of egos in this room tonight.
A lot of money too.
Her gaze darts between me and then Jensen, before she grins. “You’re making sex eyes at each other.”
I nearly choke on my tongue. “We arenot.”
“I can leave and come back in a moment if you want to keep brooding across the room?—”
“There’s no brooding. I was just admiring the artwork.”
Juno snorts. “Is that what we’re calling Jensen?” Her eyebrows wiggle. “If you’re debating sneaking off for a quick you-know-what, I don’t mind holding the fort but just let me know before you vanish off the face of the earth, or I’ll have a room full of investors and buyers asking where you’ve gone.”
I roll my eyes, even though I have no doubt Jensen has already contemplated taking me in the stockroom and fucking me senseless. A room of people on the other side of the door is not a deterrent.
“Believe it or not, we can behave.”What a lie.“We’re not always tearing each other’s clothes off every second of the day.”
Also a lie. I swear Jensen would keep me naked at home if he could, just so he could slide inside me any time he wanted.
Juno scoffs, and honestly, I don’t blame here. “There are ballads less in love than you two.”
I rub my stomach, which feels crampy and unsettled. It’s probably nerves. “Poetic,” I murmur.
A server walks past and Juno grabs one of the little hors d’oeuvres off the tray. She pops it straight into her mouth even as she grabs another. The smell of the cheese hits the back of my throat like a punch and my stomach rolls. I cover my mouth with my hand until he moves away.
“Oh, these things are so good!” Juno’s dramatics are lost on me, because the smell is still coating the inside of my nose.
She offers me one. I recoil.
“No, thanks. I’ll pass.”
Juno shakes her head at me like she’s disappointed. “You don’t know what you’re missing, Mia. The cream cheese ones are divine. We should use them for the exhibition next month.”
I wrinkle my nose, trying to breathe through my mouth. “I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want anything?”
“I’m good. I’m going to find in David Elroy. I reckon I can get another donation out of him for the ‘Kids in Art’ program. Try to behave.”
“No promises.”
I wander over to the drinks table, my hand on my stomach. It feels like my insides are doing gymnastics. I feel queasy.
Breathe. Don’t puke at your own event.
I grab a bottle of water from the ice bucket, the coldness waking me up a little.
I’m struggling to get the cap off when a figure suddenly invades my space. A hand is held out. Not the hands I know.
