“And for what it’s worth,” I add lightly, tilting my head, “you might want to stop confusing ambition with happiness. They don’t always share the same address.”
Tory stammers something about needing to check in with Dr. Lin and scurries off.
Rhys is grinning outright now, his eyes bright with pride and amusement. “You just?—”
“Defended your honor?”
“Eviscerated her.”
I arch a brow. “I work with lawyers; it’s an occupational hazard.”
He laughs, a low, genuine sound that I can't get enough of. “God, I love you.”
“Good! Because you’re stuck with me, Dr. Prescott.”
“Mrs. Prescott, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
CHAPTER 28
Rhys
Ididn’t plan on feeling homicidal tonight.
But I do.
Daniel Cole, Jayne’s boss, has a firm handshake, an expensive watch, and a smile that’s just…a bittoogenuine.
He’s also spent the past fifteen minutes telling me how “extraordinary” my wife is.
And okay, she is. But something about hearing it from him—the tall, polished, clearly-smitten-in-that-respectable-mentor-way son of a bitch—makes my molars grind.
We’re at an event for the firm, one of those semi-charitable, semi-PR dinners with too much champagne and not enough food. Jayne looks stunning in a black dress, hair swept up, confident in a way that’s half corporate, half goddess.
I should be proud. I am. I am also quietly losing my mind.
I’m fucking jealous.
“We couldn’t have pulled off the Harper case without her.” Daniel’s hand brushes her elbow as he laughs. “She’s the backbone of the entire operation.”
Jayne smiles modestly, but I see the sparkle in her eyes when she’s seen.
And damn it, I get it. She deserves this. She deserves to be admired. I just don’t likehim, the good-looking bastard gazing at my wife like she stepped out of a catalog.
She did. But she’smywife.
When we finally leave, the cool night air hits my overheated temper. September is here, and the temperatures have gone from summer to fall. I go back to the hospital in a month, and a part of me is looking forward to it, and another is going to miss the time I’ve spent at home. I’ve enjoyed my sabbatical. I’ve learned a lot about myselfandhow to make a chicken marsala.
“You and Daniel seem…close,” I say, trying for casual and landing somewhere between suspicious and deranged.
She glances at me. “He’s my boss, Rhys. Of course, we’re close.”
“Right. Your boss who talks about you like you walk on water.”
She smirks. “Maybe I do. You never know.”
“Whatever.”
“What’s going on, Rhys?”
