I take another sip.
“It’s been a long four years,” he says, running his hand across his chin as in thought.
I frown, wondering what he means by that.
“As a Lord, we’re taught to never accept defeat. To never give up on what we want.”
His eyes are looking past me, over my shoulder. I turn to see what he’s staring at and regret it the moment I do. It’s Matt. He stands there, dressed in a suit and tie like the others, and his girlfriend is wearing a black sequined dress with a plunging neckline to show off her assets. Giving them my back, I turn to face the stage once again.
“Some of us will never know defeat. Others will never know victory,” Ryat goes on. “But what I can tell you is those who don’t try will never know what they are capable of.”
I take a sip of the champagne.
“Blakely,” he calls out my name.
And I snort into my drink. Then quickly wipe it off my chin, praying it didn’t spill on my dress. Not again! Last time, I left a party here covered in alcohol.
I look up at him wide-eyed.
He stands there, looking every bit of a powerful man dressed in an expensive tux, hair slicked back and clean shaven. He’s so gorgeous.
“For those of you who don’t know, Blakely is my chosen.”
What is he doing? My hand holding the flute starts to shake.
“Sometimes, you get lucky in life. And I can say that I’m the luckiest man in this room.”
Oh, God. No. no. no.
“Just look at her.” He gestures to me with his left hand and my eyes go straight to his wedding band. The thought that he’s mine fills my stomach with butterflies. “She’s amazing, breathtaking, good hearted and a hundred percent mine.”
Don’t do it …
“As of yesterday, I can add my wife to that.”
Audible gasps fill the large room, and I hold my breath. “The stunning Mrs. Blakely Rae Archer, everyone.” He introduces me to hundreds of people.
I give a shaky smile to the applause given to us that follows, wishing the floor would fucking swallow me up.
Ryat walks down the stairs and comes over to me, people moving out of his way.
“What are you doing?” I hiss under my breath.
He takes my drink from my hands and passes it off to a server who walks by. He spins me around, pulling me into his body, not answering me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
RYAT
FUCK EVERY SINGLE goddamn one of them!
“Ryat,” she whispers. Her eyes darting around the room.
I begin to dance with her. One hand on her bare back, the other coming up to cup her face while “Broken” by Lifehouse starts to play through the speakers in the ballroom.
She nibbles on her bottom lip nervously and her eyes continue to look around the room, looking at everyone as they watch us.
Coming to a stop, I run my knuckles down her cheek and along her jaw before lifting her face to mine. She licks her lips, wetting the matte red lipstick. I run my thumb over it, lowering my face to hers. Her pretty blue eyes stare up at me, and it’s like everyone else in the room fades away. She only has eyes for me, but everyone is looking at her. My wife.
I never really gave much thought to my marriage. That was because I never really cared about it. I looked at it more like a contract. And even though this is exactly what it was, it feels like more.
She licks her painted lips and I lean down, pressing mine to hers. I kiss her. The first time I kissed her was yesterday standing at the city hall, vowing my life to hers. The thought had never crossed my mind. Now? Now I can’t get enough of them. Doesn’t matter what we’ve done, this feels more intimate than any of it.
Her tongue meets mine and I taste the champagne. It’s as sweet as her. She kisses me with so much passion, so needy. It’s as if she’s breathing for me.
She stood in this very spot just weeks ago, and all I could think of was that I was going to take her from a man I hated. Now, all I can think of is spending the rest of my life with her.
I lift my hands to her neck, making sure everyone watching can see my ring, tilting my head to the side of her face and open my eyes. They land on Matt, who stands behind her, just like I knew they would. I hope they say everything I’m thinking.
I fucking win!
The way his narrow on me and his fists clench, he gets the message. He grabs Ashley and spins around, running off with her.
Slowing the kiss down, I pull away. Her heavy eyes slowly open to look up at me. “I owed you a dance, Mrs. Archer.” I finally answer her question, and her body melts into mine. A look of pure admiration written all over her Barbie doll face, and it makes me smile. I want to see that more from her.