He...loved her?
She turned the thought over in her mind, remembering the way he always stared at her after they made love. There had always been a tenderness there, an affection that the mocking, laughing Brooks would never say aloud.
But when he held her in his arms, she knew.
Even if he didn't say it aloud, she knew.
She was his. All his.
And him?
He was...
Directly across from her.
She zeroed in one his thick wave of dark hair, nestled close to some blonde woman who was whispering in his ear. So close, in fact, that Natalie wouldn't be at all surprised if his ear lobe were coated in tacky, bright red lipstick.
Her heart froze in her throat and she watched as he smiled, nodding and she continued to dither beside him.
It was like a reenactment of all those society photos that used to grace the papers before they'd been together.
Society Millionaire Finds Love...Again
She shook her head. She could already see tomorrow's headline. A photo of the two of them together on the red carpet and then, directly beside it, the image of Marilyn Mon-Faux in her deep-cut cherry dress and her red talons practically digging into his thigh.
By noon, they'd be the talk of the town.
And the office.
Look at me.
She willed him to look up. Like maybe if he saw her there, staring at them from across the room, he'd run to her and offer some easy explanation. She was a client who was always a little too friendly. An old flame he'd been trying to get away from.
Something.
Anything but what she thought, no, knew it was.
Revenge.
Look at me.
She poured every ounce of energy into the thought, but he still just sat there, grinning stupidly at the woman
beside him.
Natalie had to stop this. In a weird way, she'd started it. The way he'd handled it had been bad, sure, but they could work it out. She could forgive this, no matter how it made bile churn in her stomach and acid course in her throat.
They could get through this.
As long as she stopped it from going too far.
So she cut through the crowd, careful to ignore calls from old friends along the way, only to be stopped again by a strong grip on her bicep.
Dammit, when would Franco learn? She could handle herself. He just had to let her try.
She whipped around. "Franco, I don't have time to—"
The words died in her mouth as she took in the man who was holding her back.