Grace's fingers twist together. "It's not important?—"
"Grace." My voice comes out sharper than I intended. "What did my mother say to you?"
She flinches slightly at my tone, and I force myself to take a breath.
"She said..." Grace swallows hard. "She said I'm not a good fit for you. That I don't understand your world or what's expected of someone in your position."
The rage that floods through me is immediate and white-hot. Of course Celeste couldn't resist. She probably couldn't wait to corner Grace alone, to pick apart every insecurity she could find.
"She had no right."
"Asher, please." Grace reaches out to me like she's trying to calm a wild animal. "Just ignore it. I don't want to cause problems between you and your family."
"Problems?" I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Grace, my mother insulting my fiancée is already a problem."
"But we're not really…"
"That's not the point." I run a hand through my hair, the familiar urge to control something, anything, clawing at my chest. "You're my fiancée."
Grace shakes her head frantically. "I can handle your mother. Please don't make this into a thing."
But it already is a thing. Celeste crossed a line, and the fact that Grace is asking me to ignore it, to let my mother's cruelty slide, only makes it worse.
"What else did she say?"
"Nothing important."
"Grace."
Placing her hands on my shoulders, she leans closer. "Truly, Asher. Nothing else. I'm fine."
I exhale a long breath as Grace's touch grounds me. Normally, I hate having someone touch me, but I find herscomforting. I close my eyes, and when I open them, we're staring at each other, something shifting in the air between us.
Her breath catches. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" I reach up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her skin is warm and glowing from the spa treatments.
"Like you want to..."
"Kiss you?" I finish, my thumb tracing along her jawline. "Because I do."
Her pupils dilate, lips parting slightly. "We said only for appearances."
"Did we?" My voice drops lower as I push up to my knees and move closer. "Because right now, the only person watching is me."
Grace's hands flatten against my chest, but she doesn't push me away. "Asher..."
"Tell me no," I murmur, my forehead touching hers. "Tell me to stop, and I will."
Her breathing quickens, hazel eyes searching mine. The word hovers between us, unspoken.
Instead, she rises onto her knees, closing the distance.
The kiss ignites immediately. Her lips are soft, yielding, tasting faintly of champagne and orange juice. My hands frame her face as she melts against me, all pretense of resistance crumbling.
She gasps against my mouth, and I take advantage, deepening the kiss until she's clinging to my shoulders.
One of my hands grips her hip, and the other finds the back of her neck. She whimpers against my mouth, submitting to my kiss easily. I toy with the hem of her shirt, running my hand underneath the material to feel her soft skin.
