Stealing Her (Covet 1)

“Don’t.” I clung to him, afraid to let him go.

His gaze softened. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Is Julian . . . is he stopping by?”

“It’s his apartment,” Bridge reminded me. “But tonight we decided—together—that walking in here, seeing us together, knowing what we did, would be a bad idea, and since he’d been drinking, I figured it was better to let him sleep it off. He’s at the Ritz-Carlton.”

“And you’re here with me,” I whispered. “Forever.”

“If you’ll have me,” he confessed. “I’ll be by your side forever.”

“He didn’t love me, not anymore,” I said, more to myself than to him. “The love I feel for you is so different. It steals my breath and makes me want to run in the other direction. The love I have for you, Bridge Tennyson, is terrifying.”

“Well, Izzy Tennyson, I think that’s going to be our first argument as a married couple. Because the love we have between us, while terrifying, is perfect.”

He kissed me hard on the mouth.

And I was lost to him.

I parted my lips as his hands wrapped around me and lifted me to my feet. Fingers pulled at my dress until it was free from my body, and all I felt was cold air from the room and the heat of his mouth on my skin.

My eyes drifted closed, and I released a sigh.

I just wanted to feel him.

My husband.

My forever.

He braced my hips with his hands and I lifted my eyelids, taking in his face as I spread his shirt open, touching his smooth skin while he made promises against my neck.

Ones I knew he would keep.

“I love you so much.” The lights from Manhattan glittered outside the tall windows, and I wondered if anyone would believe that the man in this apartment making love to me with his hands, with his mouth, was the self-proclaimed villain in our story.

And that as he pulled the remaining pieces of clothing from my body and bent me over the couch, I thanked the universe that he wasn’t the white knight.

“Look at us.” He exhaled against my neck, our naked bodies reflected in the living room window.

The lights of Manhattan.

And me and my villain.

He gripped my hips again, pulling me against him as he thrust inside me, as he made me his and said my name.

I didn’t want to shut my eyes.

I wanted to see us.

To feel us and see us.

It was all-consuming, wave after torrential wave.

Not all stories end happy.

Some end messy.

Ours would be filled with chaos.

And I would always remember the day I fell for my fiancé’s twin and vowed to keep him forever.

Chapter Forty-Eight

BRIDGE

I went to bed Sunday night with the world knowing that the CEO of Tennyson Financial was me.

Bridge Anderson Tennyson.

The news of my identity and the fallout with Julian wasn’t just front-page news. It was on every single newspaper, on every single channel.

My picture. His picture.

My phone was blowing up, and all I wanted to do was hide under the covers with Izzy’s body.

Instead, I had to get up early Monday morning and meet a brother who hated me, so that we could once and for all fix what we should have fixed when we were kids.

I’d told Izzy what we were planning.

And then I told her I would need her later.

The car stopped at the hotel. I sent a text to Julian.

And out he came, in his perfect suit with his Ray-Bans and stoic expression. Paparazzi were already waiting outside the building, but he took it in stride, not once opening his mouth to deny or confirm.

He got in the car as more cameras flashed, and shouted questions went wild with speculation. Who else was in the car with him, his long-lost brother?

“They make it sound like I’m the prodigal son,” I grumbled when the car finally took off.

He shrugged. “The only part of that story I remember is where the dad throws a party for the shitty son while the good one gets jealous.”

“Trust me, our father’s not going to be throwing a party for either of us today.”

“Good.” Julian let out an exasperated sigh. “I hope like hell you’re right about the board eating out of your hand.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Julian turned and gave me a murderous look.

“What?” I smiled. “I was trying to make you laugh. Not working? Lose your sense of humor?”

“Yeah, about the same time you slept with my fiancée.”

“What about the maid?”

“Excuse me?” Julian frowned. “What the hell would the maid have to do with this?”

“When Izzy returned home the day of the accident she found her very naked in your bed.”

“Son of a bitch.” Julian wiped his hands down his face. “No wonder Izzy was pissed when you showed up. The maid has been after me for the last year, but I never thought she’d take it that far.”

“I think it was more than just that, but good to know the maid didn’t stand a chance with you.” I made a face. “I also may have fired Amy.”