He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re mad.”
My arms drop. I am surprised at how calm he is. “Not mad.” I tilt my head and give him a wan smile. “Just…tired.”
He studies me for a moment. “Is this about Tory?” The words rush out of him like he wants themoutin the open between us.
My hands roll into fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of my palms. A new fear is strangling me now. Is he having an affair? Is he going to tell me thatnow?
“Should it be?” I manage to ask.
He looks genuinely contrite. “Not at all. Not even a little bit. It’s…I am…I was being an ass when we were arguing about you coming to the gala.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “I…I wanted to provoke you. You seem jealous of her sometimes. But I promise, Jayne, she’s a colleague, a friend. That’s all.”
So, he’d noticed I was jealous, and instead of making me feel better about it, he decided to poke at me.
What an idiot!
I slip out of my dress, giving him my back. I hear the rustle of clothes as he undresses, too.
Marriage is strange. We share a life, a house, a bed. I’ve seen him naked more times than I can count. That’s supposed to be intimacy, isn’t it? So why is he still a million miles away?
I hang my dress and remove my bra. I throw it into the hamper and reach for the camisole that I sleep in. I put it on and turn to face him.
He’s in his boxers, and the butterflies in my stomach still stir, faint but alive. My husband is a good-looking man—truly sexy. Broad shoulders, abs, muscle in all the right places. No beer gut. There’s some gray in his hair now, and as unfair as it is, it only makes him look more distinguished.
When we first started dating, my friends used to call him pretty boy. Now, whenever I introduce him to someone new, they always say the same thing:Rhys is so handsome.
“Are you attracted to her?” I ask boldly.
The confusion on his face makes my knees buckle with relief. He has no clue what I’m talking about.
“Attracted to Tory?” he asks.
I swallow. Nod.
He chuckles. “Fuck no.”
“I…I don’t like how she touches you.”
He walks to me and cups my cheek. “I maintain professional distance, baby. Always.”
“She’s very pretty.”
“No one is as beautiful as my wife.”
There’s a beat of silence, thick and charged. We’re standing close now, closer than we’ve been in weeks.
“But I get it. I hated seeing you talk to Paul tonight.”
My eyebrows lift. “Paul?” I’m incredulous.
“He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”
I blink, startled, then laugh. “Paul? He was just making conversation.”
“I know, but…I was jealous.”
I shake my head, smiling despite myself. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe, but it’s true.” There’s a glint in his eyes now. “Do you have any idea what you look like in that red dress? Every man in that room was looking at you.”
