Page 57 of Inconvenient Marriage
Ignoring Loni and Adrian, I take a few steps away from our table, scanning the Court—and that’s when I see him.
He’s not heading toward us. He’s not in the bathroom, either.
And he sure as hell isn’t alone.
My husband—fakehusband, I whisper to myself—is leaning against the bar, a gorgeous woman touching his arm. She has it all. Big smile. Huge tits. Her blonde hair is styled in voluminouscurls, and her red dress leaves little to the imagination. She’s a knock-out…and she’s touching Sebastien.
My vision tunnels. At the same time, something inside of me snaps.
Discreet, I think to myself. If he wants to be intimate with anyone else during our marriage of convenience, he’s supposed to bediscreet.
That? Is the complete opposite of discreet.
She must be one of the Used. I can’t see her brand from her, but everything about her… she belongs here, and I don’t, but that doesn’t stop me. As she smiles up at Sebastien, her red-tipped fingers running along the outline of his bicep through his leather jacket, all I can think now is: he’s supposed to bemine.
My heart stutters. My blood heats up.
I don’t remember making any conscious decision to move. I don’t even remember walking. I just know that, by the time I reach the bar, she’s laughing at something he said to her, leaning closer, and every inch of me exists to get her away from Sebastien.
I start with words.
“Take your hands off my husband,” I hear myself say.
My voice is quiet. Doesn’t matter.
I know she heard me.
The woman—who, this close, is clearly one of the Used—startles to be interrupted, then recovers with a sneer that does little to mar her perfect beauty. “Oh, sweetheart. He’s been mine longer than he’s been yours.”
That’s the worst possible thing she could’ve said.
I don’t think. I don’t hesitate.
I simply grab as much of that gorgeous hair that I can and yank her away from Sebastien. Shrieking, she has to come with me, but once I let go of her, she slaps me.
Fine.
I slap her right back.
She launches herself at me, using her perfectly manicured fingers to claw at my face. I grab her hair again and then… well. I’m not really sure what happens except that, for the first time in years, I stop being the perfect Offering as I slap, I punch, I might even bite… I definitely kick. We’re on the floor now, and I’m pretty sure I’m on top of her when the noise around me becomes clear. Someone is calling my name. I ignore them.
I can’t ignore the large hand that closes around my wrist, lifting me easily off of the target of my jealous rage, before pulling me back against a hard, familiar chest.
“Enough,” Sebastien growls.
I swivel my head, looking up at him, and I realize: he’s not growling at me. His eyes are dark, a muscle flexing in his cheek as he glares down at the Used on the floor.
“I showed you my wedding band, Hilary. I tried to tell you delicately that I’m off the market. You should’ve listened. But what you just did… let me tell you. You touch my wife again and I will put you through the bar. Slowly. And not the way you like.”
She stares at him, red lips opening and closing wordlessly like a fish.
He turns to me. “Love… are you okay? Tell me you’re okay?”
The adrenaline is still rushing through me. My cheek is damp. My head is screaming in agony from where she yanked out my hair. My entire body burns, and it’ll only be worse later. For now? I just nod, burying my face in his chest.
And that’s when she finds her voice. “Congrats, Bas. You finally found your new Julie.”
Sebastien stiffens, but doesn’t respond—until she snaps, “Julie was prettier than this bitch, and that didn’t save her. Good luck with this one.”
