But her pulse jumped traitorously at the thought of seeing him.
As she turned onto his long dirt driveway, she spotted a sleek, expensive car with city plates parked near the house.
Her heart tightened before she could stop it.
She pulled off to the side and stepped out slowly, her pulse beginning to pound in her ears. She had never actually been inside Rhavor’s house before.
She stepped onto the porch and froze by the half-open kitchen window.
A woman’s voice drifted out—soft, polished.
Familiar.
“You look great, Rhavi. I missed this place. It reminds me of all the good times we had together. Do you remember?”
Rhavi?
Sylvie blinked.
She recognized that voice. It was the woman from the pub who won the bid.
It was Ronda.
Arla had told her about the ex-fiancée. The one who had cheated. The one who had broken his heart and left him.
It looked like she was back.
And she sounded very much at home.
Was this what the auction bid had been about?
A way to buy herself back into his life?
Sylvie’s hand hovered over the doorbell. Her fingers trembled so badly she couldn’t press it.
You’re an idiot,she told herself.
She and Rhavor weren’t even officially dating.
They had never defined a thing.
They were just two people who had shared some heated moments.
And it didn’t matter that those had been the best moments she had ever shared with anyone in her life.
She had no right to make a scene.
To ask questions.
Her eyes stung. Her throat tightened painfully.
Quietly, she set the basket by the door.
Then she turned.
And bolted back to her car.
He must still love her. You don’t get engaged to someone unless they are your whole world.
