Page 85 of An Inevitable Marriage
I wasn’t jealous of how utterly stunning my sister was. Not really. I was sad and angry that I couldn’t love myself enough not to compare. That I wasn’t entirely happy in my own skin.
“If I were you,” my sister said, “I’d do it. He’s rich. He’s hot. Did I mention, he’s rich? If the guy wants to pay you to be his wife, then why the hell not?”
I couldn’t help it; a laugh bubbled over my lips. “Just like that? I like the green one, by the way.”
“Yup, just like that.” She tossed the red dress on the bed and wiggled into the bottle-green one. Stepping closer to the camera, she twirled first left then right then bent down to bring her face in full view.
Two thin straps hung loose over her shoulders while a big bow at her back pulled the bodice tight over her chest. The skirt flared out and ended mid-thigh.
She looked amazing.
I smiled. “Gorgeous.”
“Hey, where are you? That background doesn’t seem familiar.” Her brows dipped for a second before her eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with Anthony. That good-for-nothing piece of shit doesn’t deserve you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell my sister I’d gone through with it. That I was, and for the next five years would be, a married woman. But something stopped me. Maybe it was how things had backfired so spectacularly when I’d told our mom.
I didn’t know, just that the words wouldn’t come.
I shook my head. “There will never be an Anthony and me again.”
“Who the fuck is Anthony?”
I slapped a hand over my chest, and my gaze shot to the doorway. It wasn’t empty anymore. Arms folded over his ridiculously broad chest, hair wild and loose, Liam leaned his shoulder against the frame.
One look at this man, and the butterflies in my belly took flight.
“Who’s there?” Cece asked, her face filling up my screen.
I eyed the big man eyeing me right back. “Uh, I’ll call you later. Love you. Bye.”
“No, no. Don’t ha—”
Disconnecting the call, I let my phone fall into my lap.
“You’re home.” Why the hell did my voice sound like that? All flustered and breathy.
Liam pushed off the frame. “You didn’t answer me. Who.” He took a step forward. “The.” Another step. “Fuck.” And another. “Is.” A few more steps, and he stood right next to the bed. “Anthony?”
He was so close and so tall, I had to tip my head all the way back to look at him. And goodness, the way those stormy eyes bored into mine was almost too much.
“My ex.”
Liam’s jaw muscle popped. “Was it serious?”
“Does it matter?”
I blinked, and he was right there. Bent over, fists digging into the mattress, and his brutally beautiful face inches from mine.
“Yes, it matters.”
“Why?” I managed to squeak.
Liam’s stare intensified, and those steely blue eyes turned a few shades darker. “Because I need to know if it was his face you saw when I had my tongue inside your mouth and my hands on your body.” The muscle in his jaw popped furiously. “It matters because I don’t fucking share.”
His voice was so low and so serious, something deliciously warm crawled over my skin and seeped into my pores. It reached behind every wall, slithered through every crack, and settled somewhere deep inside my chest.
“No, Liam.” I exhaled a shaky breath. “Only you.”
