Stealing Her (Covet 1)

And before I gave him my back, I saw it, the flicker of excitement and challenge in his eyes.

My father loved control.

He loved a challenge more.

And I’d just jumped into the arena and asked him to fight.

One way or another there would be blood.

Chapter Fourteen

ISOBEL

Julian rescued me about thirty minutes later. At about that time Marla was arguing with me over flowers and cake, and I had a fleeting memory of my birthday last year when things were still good between us, when Julian bought me the biggest cake I’d ever seen and told me it tasted like strawberries, just like me.

I’d blushed.

He’d kissed me soundly in front of everyone.

And I’d thought, This is perfect.

What we have is perfect.

“Sweetheart.” Julian’s voice made me jump as he poked his head in the conference room. His body looked massive in the doorway, his suit too small, and his confidence was like a tsunami headed straight toward the table. “Time to go.”

Marla sighed next to me, and I almost strangled her. It wasn’t a sigh of anger, it was a sigh of jealousy.

A sigh that said she wanted to touch him.

That her Tennyson was too old and she thought she deserved mine.

I wasn’t getting out of this wedding. I could see the veiled threat beneath Edward’s gaze, the way he looked at me with a forced smile. He would get his way. That much I knew. And I hated to admit that a part of me, after these last three weeks, was thrilled at the thought that maybe, just maybe this was going to be the game changer for us. Julian was getting back to being the man I fell in love with in college. Maybe the pressure of becoming CEO had been too much. He was always so worried about his dad being proud of him, and well, now it seemed like he’d rather strangle his own father than wait for him to say he was proud.

He was becoming his own man.

I flashed him a smile and gripped my purse, trying to sidestep him since we were in the office and he was always adamant that there be no PDA. Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me softly on the mouth, earning a curse from Marla and a few shocked gasps from people passing by.

I swayed on my feet a bit and almost touched my lips. What just happened?

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he said so genuinely that I felt tears well in my eyes. “Why don’t we go to lunch and we can talk about all the ways we can piss my father off. I’m thinking Twinkies instead of a cake, you?”

Marla gasped in her seat. “The cake has already been—”

“Marla, you must be under the impression I was talking to you.” Frost laced his voice as he added, “I wasn’t.”

I gawked at Julian. He didn’t even look at her.

I could feel her anger behind me. If she could dig her nails into my back and hold tight she would. I had no doubts about it.

“Lunch sounds good.” I found my voice; it sounded off, like I couldn’t quite catch my breath. It could be the butterflies in my stomach, or it could be the way my heart was hammering in my chest.

Because it was the first time in forever that he’d kissed me in front of people at his office, and in front of her.

And it was the first time in six months that he’d made me feel owned.

Like I really was his.

This was what danger felt like.

But I couldn’t find it in my heart to do anything but cling to him as we walked through the offices and entered the elevators.

“Thank you,” I said once the doors closed behind us. “For that, with Marla, back there, I . . .” Damn it, I couldn’t get emotional now. He’d use it against me. “I can’t stand her.”

“She probably can’t even stand herself.” He grinned.

“Funny, since you seem to be alone with her a lot.”

Julian stiffened.

Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut and stop attacking him? It did nothing but make me angry over his lies and him angry over my inability to believe them!

I felt like I was in this constant state of push-pull; I wanted his promises, I wanted that kiss, but what I wanted wasn’t real. I would always be disappointed in the end, and I knew any more disappointments where Julian was concerned would prove devastating. The heart was only so strong.

I pulled away from him.

I couldn’t handle the feeling he had given me in the last three weeks, the feeling of my heart beating faster, my fingers yearning for his touch, my mouth telling me his lips would feel different this time. My treacherous body was so on board with the way he was making me feel—nurtured, cared for—that I wanted to slap myself. It was almost more cruel than the cheating, than the words, than the stupid maid.