She reels back a little, as though dazed. She stares at my hand, her eyes unfocused.
I cock an eyebrow, hiding an unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty. Is she going to pick him? I’m not exactly sure what I’ll do if she does, but it won’t be pretty. She doesn’t get to blast into my life, then invade my dreams. She doesn’t get to send photos and dare me to do something about her situation, then act innocent.
A slight tremor racks her body. Indecision fleets across her beautiful face, calculation flashing in her eyes. Even now she’s trying to weigh me and Jude, to see who’s going to benefither more.
Just what the hell did Jude promise her? Respect as his wife? His wealth?
Suddenly she lunges forward toward me. My heart crows with jubilation.
Finally.
“You whore!” Jude grinds out, then runs after her.
Her cumbersome dress must’ve tangled with her feet—she starts to fall.
Shit.I lunge forward and catch her, then in one smooth motion push her over a shoulder. Her weight feels good. Too good.
Aaron steps forward, his face red. Numerous guests rise, without any idea what they want to do.
Sherry Oberman only counts some beads and murmurs things under her breath, seemingly oblivious.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Aaron shouts like a clown.
“Sealing a deal and saving the family,” Fiona mutters.
I start walking out.
“Stop! She’s my woman!”
I feel something tugging me and Fiona back. I spin around. Jude is gripping the end of the train, his knuckles white. Ah. That explains the little backward jerk.
Jude’s face is twisted with impotent fury and embarrassment. I almost laugh at the scene. Seeing him like this is surprisingly entertaining.
“Put her down!” He reaches for Fiona. “She’s mine—”
With great relish, I kick his knee hard enough to make it crunch. He yelps in shock and pain. His eyes bulge, and a vein stands out in his forehead as he wraps his hands around the knee.
What a beautiful sight.Hope the moment is forever etched into his brain.
I yank the train out of Jude’s hand, then turn around and start to leave, with Fiona on my shoulder. Unable to resist, I raise my voice loud enough to carry. “Might want to do something about your grip strength if you plan to use that hand for more than just jerking off.”
Chapter Ten
Fiona
My heart hammers as Bryce carries me out of the venue. Oh my God. Now what?
Jude screams. Aaron is shouting. Guests murmur, and Jude’s parents seem about to faint. Sherry acts like she hasn’t witnessed anything out of the ordinary as she recites her mantra, probably praying that this is more good karma for Finley.
“Can you stop by the dressing room and grab my purse?” I say quickly as Bryce strides past the bride’s room. “To your left.”
His body heaves as he sighs, then kicks the door open and snatches the black purse I left on the vanity. He unceremoniously dumps me into his Rolls-Royce, then climbs behind the wheel. As my body sinks into the buttery leather seat, reality starts to reassert itself.
The wedding didn’t happen. I didn’t marry Jude. And Bryce is here…next to me.
I turn my head slowly to stare at his handsome profile, from the straight nose to the high forehead and the taut line of his mouth. Why did he do this? He couldn’t have known about the ceremony…or did he? Jude wanted me to invite him, but I didn’t bother because I knew he wouldn’t care.
But maybe he does care.
