Page 67 of Her Every Fantasy

My robe trailing behind me, I completed the walk.

Each one of my twelve models stood ready for the last parade. Swivelling to face the audience once more, I led them down the catwalk to thunderous standing ovation.

But not everyone stood up.

Maybe his seated position was the reason my gaze flicked over to the figure on the second row. Whatever the reason, his portentous presence struck me harder than it should have.

Only years of training stopped me from stumbling and making a total fool of myself. Only a strong force of habit kept the smile on my face.

But still, he saw me falter. And smirked.

And as much as I hated myself for reacting, I felt the slightest wobble in my chin as I stared at the spanner to end all spanners.

My ex-husband.

Bryce

My God, she was spectacular.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her, and it had nothing to do with the magnificent outfit she wore or the perfection of her body.

From the start it’d been Savannah’s spirit that had called to mine. A warm and compassionate place to land where I’d known only callous indifference and uncertainty.

Granted, I’d doubted the sustainability of those attributes for the longest time. Hell, I’d spent the last three days fighting the urge to test the true depths of the waters to see where I stood.

I still wasn’t completely sure. But I knew one thing.

If I couldn’t bear to be away from her for a measly three days, what the hell would the next weeks, months and years look like?

The only sure-fire way to find out is if you don’t try.

The contents of the letter from my mother I’d unearthed in some hope of dissipating their power reeled through my head, a cold wash threatening to invade my system. It’d been happening with alarming frequency, as if my dear dead mother were trying to make her point from the grave. If you believed that sort of thing.

Enough!

My palms stung with the power of my applause, dragging me back to the present.

Back to Savvie.

A heavy dose of angst drained away as I watched her smile.

Someone shoved a hideously large bouquet of flowers in her hands, temporarily obscuring her face from me. Probably her investors, who must be ecstatic at how the collection had been received.

Or...the man her gaze slid to as she turned to leave the catwalk.

Even before I caught a full view of him, I knew.

Dan.

My leaden hands dropped to my sides.

Had she invited him here? Would she really do that?

‘Jesus, Bryce. You look like you’ve seen Satan himself.’

The stark observation shattered my thoughts, reminded me of another situation I needed to deal with.

Graciela.

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