Page 32 of Liberating Bells
Smirking, I give Izabel a squeeze and then step away. I give her a mock bow, making her smile—a real smile. Unbridled joy and amusement play across her face, her eyes twinkling brighter than I’ve seen in a while. “Thank you for the dance, my lady.”
Izabel dips into a curtsey, pulling at the edges of her dress, still grinning from ear to ear. “The pleasure was all mine.”
I grin and stand up straight, giving her another lingering look, taking in her beauty and just Izabel. Then I walk away from her and head back to our table, but I don’t see Josie. My eyes do land on Mark, who is watching me with a look so dark it makes my hands clench into fists.
I don’t know if he saw anything, or if he knew precisely what Josie was doing. But he’s not happy. Biting the inside of my cheek, I look away from his glare.
I don’t care. He can bark and bite at me all he wants. I’m not scared of him. All that matters is that I got a real Izabel smile tonight. I could die a happy man after that. It was the firstreal glimpse that the her I used to know still exists deep inside herself.
It was a beacon of hope for me. The light at the end of the tunnel that assures me that My Bells is still there.
It's just a matter of time. I don't know how, and I don't know when. But I know that it's going to happen.
She and I are inevitable.
12
IZABEL
As I watchRyan saunter away from our dance, he holds his shoulders tall, displaying his confidence. Passing a waitress, he grabs a champagne glass, giving her a big smile, before finding his seat at our table again.
I place my hand over my heart and feel the rapid rhythm. I am in way over my head. After the kiss a few weeks ago, I thought space would help me clear my head. If I would just take some time away, maybe these weird feelings I have would disappear.
But now...after that dance? I feel like I’m floating on cloud nine.
I still feel the grin Ryan conjured as he strolls over to the table of our friends. The muscles in my cheeks ache. I’m not sure when I last smiled this big. Being in his arms again, even just for a few slow songs, leaves me with more questions than ever.
I’m standing in the middle of the dance floor when I shake my head and come back into the present. Taking a deep breath, I head back over to the auction table to resume my perusal of the items. They all seem to be bidding reasonably high, which is excellent.
The band begins playing a more upbeat song, and I smile at a few guests who greet me. My eyes dart around the room, catching on the figure of my fiancé walking toward me. I plaster on another smile as he approaches.
He has his hands in his pockets, and his earthy brown eyes are cold. I noticed he had to step out earlier to take a phone call; I wonder if everything is okay. Things have been stressful at work lately for him. One of the partners assigned him to a complicated case. Mark thinks it’s just another test before they’ll offer him a partner position, but I’m not sure. This career seems to be consuming him.
Turning to him, I give him a small smile and place a hand on his arm. “Hey, is everything okay?”
He shies away from my touch and shoots me a menacing glare. “No, Ryan’s stupiddatejust spilled champagne all over me.”
I press my lips together and look him over. I feel like I’m treading in uncharted territory. Mark has never been in such a foul mood over something so inconsequential before. Thankfully, his suit is dark enough that any type of stain won’t show.
Dejected, my hands flutter over the edges of his jacket, straightening out the invisible wrinkles. “I’m sorry. I’m sure Josie didn’t mean to. I saw you ran out of here to take a call. Is there something going on with work?”
“No. Look, we need to talk.”
My heart stutters in my chest at his low tone and menacing expression. “Okay.”
His eyes dart around, and then he reaches for my hand. “Come with me. I don’t feel like making a scene here.”
He wraps his big fingers around my wrist, fully encasing me. Giving a slight tug, he heads toward the entrance. I stumble, my heels getting caught on the tulle skirt of my dress. Thetall strappy heels I’m wearing were not made for this kind of walking. I can feel my ankles protest.
“Mark,” I say as he pulls me along. “Slow down.” Guests step out of our way, seeing the warpath that my fiancé appears to be on.
He doesn’t respond. He just keeps walking, dragging me out the main banquet hall doors and then down the hall away from the gala. I’m still trailing after him, my wrist aching in his tight grip. I can feel the strength of his fingers digging into my sensitive flesh. Mark stays silent as he suddenly turns on me, pulling and twisting me until he has me cornered in a tight dead-end hallway.
When he releases my wrist, my fingers come up to rub at the hurt right away. I shoot him a glare. “What is this all about, Mark?”
His face is stormy. “Why don’t you answer that for yourself?” I frown, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Mark steps closer to me, his face inching up to mine. His breath smells like champagne, his eyes wide with anger that I can see boiling. “Were you dancing with Ryan?”
His voice is deep, lower than I think I’ve ever heard it. The baritone timbre makes goosebumps rise on my skin.
