Chapter 19 Anna #2
“Anna!”
At least, I think it’s my name. No one calls me ‘Anna’. I’m Annaliese, or if you’re my baby sister, ‘Annie’. Sebastien calls me ‘love’, and though I keep thinking he’ll stop, he hasn’t yet. But ‘Anna’? I’m not sure if that’s me.
It is.
I turn to see Alexandre heading my way, a drink in hand, plus two stunning women in matching satin dresses trailing at his heels. A quick peek at their necks reveal that they’re both wearing the Order’s brand, marking them as Used. His dates, I’m assuming.
Alexandre’s grin is bright and wicked as he bears down on me, kissing my cheek as though we’ve known each other all our lives instead of the both of us having met… three times? “This is perfect. You outdid yourself.”
I smile politely. “Happy birthday. Belated, but still.”
He laughs, brushing that part off. “It was worth the wait, I assure you. Right, girls?”
Alexandre is laughing, I’m smiling a prim smile, but the two Used… oh, they look pissed.
Worse, they size me up with open disdain. I guess I should’ve expected that. Neither one is the woman that I ended up in a slap fight with at the King’s Court, but the Order’s club is as ripe for gossip as Miranda’s school. They would’ve all heard about it.
Good. Maybe then the rest of the Used will know better than to flirt with my husband.
Fake husband.
My smile wavers.
Whatever.
“Anyway, Anna, I just wanted to stop by and thank you. Maman is having a wonderful time. Dad wants to hire you for every family event for the next decade. With a discount, of course, since you’re family.”
I’m ‘family’ now. I won’t be in a year, but there’s no way in hell I’m admitting that with those two shooting daggers at me with their gazes.
So, instead, I murmur, “Of course. I’d be happy to.”
Alexandre is Sebastien’s older brother by fourteen months. They have the same pretty features, dark blond hair, brown eyes… and, yet, watching him schmooze, all I can think is that I got the sexier brother.
I don’t know if it was the way I answered him or if he could see my judgment on my face, but Alexandre decides to cut the conversation short.
“I’m glad. Oh. Sorry. Looks like we have a line forming to thank our gracious hostess.
So now I’ll bid you adieu… come on, girls…
and you can come over here and say ‘hello’ to our Anna. ”
I try to rearrange my features into a pleasant grin, prepared to greet another of Alexandre’s guests. “Hello—”
“Anna, is it? Since when?”
My heart fucking drops. So does my stomach. That voice… that fucking voice.
I know it intimately. Just like I know those icy blue eyes.
Eric.
It’s Eric.
And he’s here.
My ex looks immaculate. Of course he does. Tailored suit, model smile, the picture of Order perfection.
But those eyes… in those eyes, I see promise. I see fury. I see lust.
I see trouble.
I gulp, trying to hide it. “Annaliese. You know that.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I do. But you’ve obviously changed so much since you left me… I just wanted to make sure that wasn’t something else.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about—and then he backs me up against the wall, cornering me before I can make my excuses and make my escape. His eyes flash, his deceptively broad build suddenly looming as he lashes out, grabbing my wrist.
“Eric—”
He lifts my hand, thumb tapping the underside of my Order band. “I know you’re joking. Tell me this is a joke. You’re not married. You can’t be.”
I jerk my hand out of his reach. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s the event of the year, according to my sources. So scandalous. An Owed celebrating his thirtieth birthday without a ring on his finger instead of being ashamed that he’s alone… when I heard that a premier event planner would be hosting it, I knew I had to come.”
A premier event planner… that’s how I used to teasingly refer to myself when I was working with Mom. It was my dream. It took creativity and organizational skills, and I was so good at it when Mom finally let me join her team. But then I met Eric and he wanted me to join him at his firm and… and…
He came here for me. Shit. That’s what he’s saying. He could care less about it being Alexandre’s birthday celebration. Oh, no. He finally had the chance to corner me—and that’s exactly what he’s done.
The rest of the room disappears. It’s just me and Eric’s blue eyes and the gold wedding ring weighing heavily on my finger.
He’s glaring at it. “Take it off.”
“What? No!”
“I’m not asking, Annaliese. I’m telling you. You’re not married. You can’t be. Now. Take. It. Off.”
I shake my head. “You should leave, Eric, before—”
“Before what?” he snaps. “Before your husband decides to come over here? Let him. Whatever sniveling Order member you fucked to give you that… why, yes. I think I do want to meet him.”
Oh, no.
No.
I thought my husband would be safe. That, no matter who I married, Eric would get the hint that he was off-limits.
This isn’t a one-night stand, even if Sebastien was my one-night stand.
I’m married, and the only two who know for sure that this is a marriage of convenience are the two who signed the marital agreement that evening in Sebastien’s living room.
Alexandre thinks it’s real. So do my folks, and Sebastien’s. I’m pretty sure Sebastien’s friends—brothers—know better, but they’ll keep his secrets.
Just like I’ll keep mine.
“That’s not a good idea,” I say weakly. “You should go.”
“Only if you come with me,” Eric counters.
What? “I can’t.”
“Of course you can. I’m done playing these games, sweetheart.
You will unblock my number. You will get into my car.
You will come home with me, and if you’re lucky, I might buy you a diamond to replace that cheap-ass band on your finger.
” He leans in, so close I can smell the booze on his breath.
“Take it off, sweetheart. Let’s see if your finger’s green. ”
I fist my hand. I love my ring. It’s like a shield, and there’s no way in hell I’m removing it until the year is up.
I’m just about to tell him that, too, when a very familiar male voice cuts in through the thrum-thrum-thrumming of my pulse, the thudding of my anxious heart, and the din of the crowd suddenly slamming back into me.
“Excuse me. I’d like a moment with my wife.”
Sebastien.