Page 95 of Barging In
Victoria closed her eyes, not only to block the view of her husband, but to distract herself from where she was. She always hated using the lift, but climbing the stairs to the penthouse wasn’t an option.
“What happened to your old driver?” she asked, eyes still tightly closed.
“He asked for a raise, so I fired him,” Drew bragged.
Victoria’s eyes shot open in alarm. “He had four kids.”
“Five.” He grinned smugly as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “His wife had another a few months ago. You’d think he’d have been grateful to have a job instead of trying to extort more money from me. The new driver is single and very grateful for the opportunity.”
Victoria sighed inwardly at yet another arsehole move by her husband. She’d watched him all night, puffing out his chest, name-dropping, laughing at his own jokes, clapping people on the back. Clem was right about him; he’d make a great politician. Drew’s effortless arrogance was second nature and utterly hollow. What was she evendoing there, hanging off his arm like a devoted wife, making him look good? She wanted more than this.
Her mind drifted back to Clem. She was probably asleep by now, curled up in her comfy bed on Florence.The memory of her scent returned, floral and spicy, filling her nose from nowhere. It was so vivid it filled Victoria’s mouth with the taste of her, making her chest ache. She pushed it away. It hurt too much to keep recalling that kiss, no matter how fiercely it made her burn.
The lift doors finally slid open, revealing the dimly lit expanse of the penthouse lounge. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a dark blue sky dotted with city lights that twinkled like distant stars. The view made her knees weaken. She clicked a button on the wall control to close the blinds, then kicked off her heels.
Drew pressed his lips to a gleaming bronze award shaped like interlocking beams, mounted on a slab of polished granite. He placed it reverently on the coffee table, then shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the sofa. A small table in the corner by the window held a vast array of bottles. She watched as he filled two with whisky. She wasn’t sure she needed any more, and he certainly didn’t.
“Thanks for coming, Hannah,” he said as he picked up the glasses.
Victoria froze.What the hell!Okay, he spent more time with her. Was it only natural for him to slip? What was she thinking? She was his wife — hiswife— not some floozy he’d been screwing for who knows how long. There was her feeling guilty about kissing Clem, and he couldn’t even remember her fucking name. She definitely deserved more than this.
He turned, whisky glasses in hand, and caught the look on her face. “Vic, I mean,” he corrected. “Fuck! Sorry.”Walking over, he handed her a glass and sank onto the sofa.
“I kissed someone,” she blurted out. God, it felt good to say it aloud.
“What?”
His tone sounded more like he wasn’t listening than that he cared.
“I kissed someone,” she repeated.
“Oh, right,” he said slowly. “I kind of assumed you saw other people, too.”
“No. I haven’t. Until recently, the thought never crossed my mind. I’m not proud of what I did; unlike you, my wedding vows meant something to me.Iwouldn’t bring someone back to our home.”
He sighed, as though she were a child failing to grasp a simple concept. “We were heading to Bristol for a meeting, and since we were passing by, it seemed sensible to stay. I didn’t think you’d mind since you were at the spa.”
“A rule is a rule. No exceptions,” Victoria stated, unflinching. “I did mind. I had to wash everything. It made me feel physically sick that she’d been there. You arrived late to my party and left early. We agreed we’d show up for each other when needed — like I have for you tonight — but you couldn’t do that. You even had her sat in the car waiting for you.”
The look of surprise suggested he thought no one had noticed.
“Yes, Jasper saw you kiss her,” Victoria growled. “Others saw you. Do you know how humiliating that was? That was another rule broken — that others don’t find out.”
“I thought we agreed on seeing other people,” he protested. “That was how we wanted things to work.”
“We did. But if I hadn’t agreed, you would have done itanyway. So, was it a choice or capitulation? At least by agreeing, I got to set some ground rules, most of which you’ve broken.”
“What are you getting at, Vic?”
At least he finally got her name right.
“I want a divorce,” she announced flatly, staring down at him as her heart pounded in her chest.
“That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?” He shot up off the sofa, drained his glass, and headed back to the drinks table to refill it.
Her throat tightened at his dismissal. “We don’t love each other, and we barely see each other. It’s hardly a marriage.”
“We can work this out, Vic,” he said casually, crossing the room to her side. “We don’t need to divorce. Let’s start again. Come back to London. We’ll sell the wharf and the house.”
