He’d thought them black but this close he could see they were dark red like her hair. Her mouth was…perfect. Small and full, and he could remember the taste. He had no fucking right to be thinking about her mouth. Or how sweet she had tasted. He didn’t do sweet.

Anyway, it had all been pretense for her grandmother’s benefit. The older woman obviously believed them to be married for real. He hoped that wasn’t going to be a problem. He’d never given much thought to why his “wife” had needed to marry—it hadn’t been any of his business. It still wasn’t.

He was here for one thing: to get his annulment.

She still hadn’t spoken, but he could see her thinking, working out what shewouldsay, so he strolled around the room, giving her some time, stopping at her extremely tidy desk. The only thing on the spotless surface was a photograph. His eyes slid past it and then back. He reached out slowly and picked it up. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was him on a beach he was pretty sure he’d never been to in his life.

He turned and waved it in her direction. When she didn’t respond, he stepped closer, snapped his fingers under her nose, and she jumped.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was thinking. Or rather, I was trying not to think, but…” She looked at the photo in his hand and gave a tiny shrug. “Our fourth wedding anniversary.”

“Really? Where did we go?”

“You took me to the Seychelles. We had a wonderful time.”

“I’m glad,” he said drily.

“Look, Mr. Slater…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Josh. I really wish you hadn’t said you’d come to dinner tonight.”

He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. When I don’t arrive, you can say something came up.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. You have to come now, or she’ll never let it drop. She’s tenacious. She’ll hunt you down and pry the truth from your bleeding and broken body.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.”

“You don’t know Grandmamma. God, I need a drink.” She batted those long lashes at him, gave him another of those pleading looks. “Please say you’ll come to dinner.” Her mouth was pink and full, but her skin was pale, and the hand she used to tuck a stray curl behind her ear was shaking slightly. “Honestly, it will only be this once. After all, I’ve managed to avoid you meeting my family for five years. This was a combination of bad timing. My grandmother never comes to London, and you…” She paused and looked at him, a little line forming between her brows. “Whyareyou here, anyway?”