Page 49 of The Vow

My lashes dipped to my cheeks, the press of his face forcing my head to tip back, and that was when I saw it. Mired amid the crystals on the chandelier was a small blinking red light.The mistletoe drone wasn’t the only camera in the room.

“Let me get our coats.”

I nodded, mutely following him to the exit.

Looking over my shoulder, I caught one last glimpse of Belmont enjoying the attention of his guests. I’d never been closer to bringing him down than I was in this moment.

But when I turned back to Damon, I could only wonder not how much it had cost me, but how much more my heart would still have to pay…

Chapter Fourteen

Robyn

“Worried he’ll drown, Robbie?”

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Pat step into the living room. He might be the human equivalent of a boulder, but the soundless ease with which he moved through spaces was as effortless as sand sliding through fingertips.

Apparently, my concern that Pat didn’t like me sparked the slight change in his demeanor; still very imposing, still mostly silent, but when he did address me, it wasRobbienow.

Pat was the big, sarcastic break in the icy tension that cracked between me and Damon since Belmont’s party on Friday. This time, it was me who avoided my husband at all costs, furious at the show he’d put on for everyone to see.

My wife.

Robyn Remington.

Just the thought of the name sprung a leak of shivers down my spine. I’d never used the name aloud. It was my ownpersonal version ofVoldemort,my married name going unspoken for fear of what it might conjure. Ache. Anger. Regret. Longing.

“Who says that’s not what I’m hoping for?” I countered, giving myself one final look at Damon in the pool below, his muscles gliding through the water.

These last few nights it was the same unspoken ritual. He’d swim and not look up, and I’d pretend he didn’t know I was there.

No matter how long I stood—twenty minutes, then thirty minutes, and now forty minutes—he wouldn’t stop swimming until I was gone.Like he’d kill himself to prove he wouldn’t be the one to walk away from me again.

Even now, days later, I could remember perfectly the feel of those muscled arms wrapped around me at the party. Those legs as they threaded through mine and led me around the dance floor—led me right into his trap. And that mouth…

That kiss—that stupid, incredible, engineered, addictive,dangerouskiss—had changed something. Created a weakening. A wanting. Like pulling a single piece from a Jenga tower, my resistance to him hadn’t toppled, but it wavered. And no matter how I wanted to pretend I stood just as unbroken as before, there was no ignoring the gaping hole in my restraint.

“Is it?” Pat’s droll lilt poked at me.

Spinning away from the window, I gave him a blank stare, hoping he’d interpret it one way, though the twinkle in his heavy eyes suggested it was the opposite.

“For my sake, let’s hope not because then I’ll have to jump in there and save his wiry ass. Again.”

That brought a small smile to my face. “How many times have you saved him?”

Pat tipped his head and sank into the chair facing the coffee table—and his one-thousand-piece puzzle.

“About as many times as he’s saved me.” He squinted at the progress.

The border of the puzzle was finished, and small pockets of the interior were coming to life. The scene was a coastal image of the Cinque Terre in Italy.

I hummed to acknowledge him and moved away from the window. “I’m going to head to bed.”

Pat lifted a brow. “It’s early for bed, no?”

My frown deepened. It was only nine, but I had no interest in another of my husband’s fan club waxing poetic about all he’d done for them. Not after the stunt he’d pulled at the party.

“Sit.” He jerked his chin to the chair adjacent to him. “You’ve done nothing for the last two nights.”

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