My hand slid along Jasper’s, my fingers skating over the knuckles on his left hand. His bare left hand. The ring I’d bought him had disappeared. For all I knew, he’d thrown it in the trash.
He didn’t wear rings. Fine. Part of me still hoped that maybe . . . maybe mine would be his exception.
Had he worn Samantha’s ring? Probably. Yes. I knew the answer. I hated that answer.
That woman had taken everything. Every first. Every memory. From that very first night at the Clover Chapel, I hadn’t even stood a chance, had I?
The ache in my chest made it hard to breathe, so I wiggled free, slipping from Jasper’s arms. “I’d better get in the shower.”
Before I could slip past him, he caught my elbow. Then he framed my face with his hands, dropping his lips to mine.
I rose on my toes, fluttering my tongue against his, needing to hear that low growl in his chest. The desire for me, not Sam. Me. Emotion clawed at my throat, so before I could cry, I broke the kiss, forcing a smile as I slipped into the bathroom. Then I channeled the turmoil in my heart toward looking my absolute best.
The gown Jasper had chosen was a pale lavender. The neckline left my shoulders exposed but its sleeves hit past my elbows. The bodice fit my slight curves, giving the illusion of an hourglass figure. A pleated gather at one hip created a sexy slit that ran to the top of my thigh.
I artfully applied my makeup, going heavier than normal with eye shadow. But my lips stayed pale. And my hair was straight, falling in sleek panels over my shoulders, where the ends tickled my waist.
When I emerged from the bathroom, I found Jasper in the sitting area, adjusting a silver cuff link.
The sight of him in a tux, the black jacket and slacks tailored perfectly to his broad frame, stole the air from my lungs.
This had been his life, hadn’t it? Tuxedos. Elegant hotels. Money. He’d donned that suit and, with it, a power I hadn’t noticed before. Wealth fit him. This was the other side of his life, the side he worked so hard to hide.
Cuff link secure, he glanced up. And froze.
Those dark eyes traveled down my body, head to toe, in a lazy inspection. His Adam’s apple bobbed. And then, without hesitation or reserve, he adjusted the bulge swelling behind his slacks.
“You are magnificent.” His gravelly voice sent a shiver down my spine. A curl of desire bloomed in my core. My hands itched to strip him out of that suit, but that would have to wait.
First, I had a job to do: make his ex-wife jealous. I’d gladly be the woman to rub what she’d lost in her face.
“Ready for this?” I asked.
“Are you?”
“Yeah.” I was ready.
He walked over, bending to brush a kiss to my cheek. Then he held out an elbow, waiting for me to take his arm before he escorted me from the room and down the carpeted hallway to the elevator.
The ride to the first floor was quiet, but the moment the doors slid open, noise filled the lobby.
We strode toward the crowd gathered outside the ballroom, my heels clicking against the polished black and white marble floor. I clutched Jasper’s arm while letting my eyes wander, taking in every detail from the crystal chandeliers to the ornately carved pillars that bracketed every hallway.
“This hotel . . .”
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s a dream.”
Jasper hummed. “I prefer a quaint little hotel in Quincy, Montana.”
“Funny.” I looked up, finding his gaze waiting. I’d expected to see some teasing there, but he was dead serious, wasn’t he? He liked The Eloise better than this?
I loved Jasper for that.
I loved Jasper.
Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with my husband.
That emotion came clawing back, but I swallowed it down, once more concentrating on the hotel’s intricate details. “I’m taking notes tonight for our own wedding offerings.”
“I would expect nothing less,” he said as we fell in line with the other guests, inching our way into the reception.
A string quartet was staged in the corner, their music mingling with the hum of conversation and laughter.
The ballroom was bright, the walls cream, as they were throughout the hotel. Matching cloths covered the tables and chairs. The centerpieces were gold candelabras that held dripping white candles. Every table was teeming with pale peonies and pristine white roses. Crystal wall sconces and glimmering chandeliers bathed the room in golden light.
One wall was made of arched openings to an outside terrace. The scent of roses and tangy ocean salt carried across the air.
It was elegant. Mesmerizing. Samantha’s tastes were similar to my own. That shouldn’t have surprised me considering the man we’d both married, but seeing this venue brought the realization front and center. It left a sour taste in my mouth, but I refused to let any bitterness show. There was nothing but a carefree smile on my face.
If the worst thing people said about me tonight was that I was too smiley, I’d call it a win.
Women in designer dresses sipped from crystal champagne flutes. Men in tuxes, like Jasper’s, held tumblers with amber whiskey or colorless cocktails.
The bride and groom were noticeably missing. Thank God. I was going to need a drink before that face-off.
As a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne, Jasper took two glasses, handing me one.
Expensive bubbles burst on my tongue.
Jasper lifted his to his lips, taking a drink. His shoulders were pinned back, his posture poised, yet relaxed as he scanned the room.
I knew it the moment he spotted a familiar face. His frame locked tight, the muscles of his arm flexing. I followed his gaze to two older couples talking and laughing and locked in conversation.
One of the men had brown, almost black, hair with liberal streaks of gray. The woman at his side was slender, almost willowy, wearing a strapless black gown. She was beautiful and had Jasper’s dark eyes. At her throat was an intricate—expensive—diamond necklace that caught the light every time she moved.
“Your parents?” I asked.
Jasper hummed.
I squared my shoulders, letting go of his arm to trail my hand down his sleeve before lacing our fingers together.
“You good?” he asked, glancing down.
I looked up at him, and the concern in his eyes melted my heart. I guess tonight, we’d worry about each other. “Yeah, babe. I’m good.”
With a nod, he led the way, weaving past tables and clusters of wedding guests.
His father noticed us first, stopping the group’s conversation. The couple they’d been talking to said a quick goodbye, then shifted to mingle with a different group while Jasper’s father held out a hand, forcing Jasper to drop mine. “Hello, son.”
“Dad.” Jasper shook his father’s hand, then stepped closer, moving in to kiss both of his mother’s cheeks. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, darling. Isn’t this a lovely evening? We were just on the terrace and it couldn’t have been more beautiful.”
Seriously? This was a woman who hadn’t seen her son in years, and she wanted to chitchat about the weather? And all his father had to say was hello? Not even a, “Good to see you, Jasper”？
My mother would have taken any one of her sons by the ear, hauled them into the hallway for a screaming lecture, then hugged them so tight they’d barely be able to shake her loose. And my dad, well . . . he wouldn’t have allowed years to go by in the first place.