I lower the brush. He’s done, and I need to change into the new dress so we can leave with the others. We won’t receive the address to the party until the hour before. The secrecy around this party is enormous.
Rafe doesn’t let me take a step back. His hands land on my hips instead, locking me in place between his splayed knees.
“Listen to me.” His hair is damp and curling lightly at his temples. “Where we’re going tonight? I need you to behave.”
“The perfect wife,” I say. “I know. Or will there be more expected of me? Nora mentioned that sometimes these parties get…”
“Sometimes they do,” he says. His green eyes dip briefly to my lips. “Don’t drink anything you haven’t ordered yourself from a bartender. Don’t take any pills offered to you, and no shots. Don’t suggest a game with a stranger, don’t make any bets, don’t disappear into any rooms.”
My mouth dries. “Okay.”
“I mean it. You love chaos, butnot tonight.Can you do that for me?” He shakes his head slowly. “Vivienne is not someone to be trifled with.”
“She runs these parties? Who is she?”
“Someone with too many connections and a penchant for drama.”
“Who will be there?”
“Everyone,” he says. “I have to play poker half the night. Behave when I’m not around to supervise you.”
“I’m not a child.”
His eyes flash. “No, you’re absolutely not.”
“And you’re insistent. If I didn’t know better,” I say, and slide the tip of my index finger along the sharp edge of his jaw, “I’d say you’re worried about me.”
They’re his words from last night. The hands gripping my waist flex, fingers digging in. “I know better than to underestimate you,” he says. It’s not a no. He made me promise after the fight that I’d never follow him again, never put myself in danger.
“Should the guests think that we’re real? You and me?”
“Yes. Nothing is recorded at these parties, but influential people go. Getting an invite to Vivienne’s parties is… well. Few people decline.” His eyes narrow. “I’m going to kiss you tonight.”
It’s not fear that spreads through me. It’s not hatred, either. I’m almost scared at the complete absence of those very sound, very logical feelings.
“Oh no,” I say. “I know how much you hate doing that.”
He’s closer now than he was a minute ago, his breath ghosting over my mouth. “I absolutely detest it.”
“Not as much as I do,” I say. “I gave you a chance to practice, but you’re still a terrible kisser.”
“And you’re the worst wife I’ll ever have,” he says, and brushes his mouth against mine. It’s a barely there kiss, and my eyes flutter closed, my body arching into him.Yes.
That’s when I feel his lips turn into a smile. “Come,” he says, and gets up. “We should get going.”
CHAPTER 39
PAIGE
Anonymous black SUVs pick us up for the party. They drop us off in Monte Carlo’s marina with instructions on which dock to walk up. At the end of dock eight is a large white yacht. It’s surrounded by a dozen others, but this one is by far the biggest.
“Someone clearly owed her a favor,” West mutters to James. They’re walking behind us.
“Or someone lost the last game,” James responds. He’s carrying a briefcase, and he was quiet the entire car ride here.
An attendant welcomes us onto the yacht. We take off our shoes and are offered thin slippers or white-soled boat shoes. Music pounds out from the top deck. Rafe and James share a look, and then I’m shuffled back, walking with West, Alex, Nora and Amber.
I don’t mind taking a back seat during this.
