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No. Stop. Not happening.
Faced away toward Sven as she was, Warrick couldn’t see her face, but knew that unique color of hair like his own. Only this very morning, he’d had his face buried in the exact same strands of hair where Sven’s fingers were now tangled.
The memory of snuggling with her against the master bedroom sink right before she left his house stayed in his thoughts all damn day. But she’d been in a hurry. Agitated for some reason. Had it been because she was seeing someone else tonight?
Was this what she considered an errand during her meal break?
Of all the things he expected, betrayal with another man wasn’t even on his top-ten list. Warrick acted without thinking things through too far. No he hadn’t promised her anything yet, but he planned to very soon.
All day he’d relished the idea of telling his family to get bent as he considered her as a permanent partner in a perfect ménage life with Colton.
Warrick marched forward with the intention of stopping them from the imminent kiss about to take place. He simply couldn’t take it if she kissed him. He didn’t want that horrific vision burned for all eternity in his brain.
Sven didn’t notice his approach until the last second before he touched her. Sven’s large body stiffened in last couple seconds before Warrick moved close enough, and he was unable to stop the physical intervention.
Warrick put a hand on Isabelle’s shoulder, pulled back hard enough to keep the kiss at bay, spinning her partly away from Sven’s eager mouth. Her dance partner was obviously angry about it, if his surely expression was any indication.
Too fucking bad.
Sven’s squint of recognition also didn’t hide the rage of being thwarted from kissing the beautiful woman still seductively pressing herself to him.
Warrick’s gaze was focused on Sven to see what his next move would be. His dance partner twisted at the waist, sending her very livid amber gaze his way.
“Who the hell are you, and what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
Warrick froze in place, uncertain what he was seeing.
The woman, still half-locked in Sven’s massive arms, looked exactly like Isabelle. She sounded exactly like Isabelle. Her hair and eye color were exactly the same as Isabelle’s.
What the fuck, indeed.
Warrick stared at her too long before trying to speak.
Sven straightened to his full height, which was sizeable.
The female firebrand in Sven’s arms remained there, hugging even closer and more intimately to the man Warrick had wanted to hire and then thrash.
Meanwhile, Warrick still tried to reconcile what he saw with what he thought he knew. Which was apparently nothing.
This woman was not Isabelle. How is that possible?
Without warning a familiar voice behind him said, “Ari?”
Warrick whipped around, seeing Isabelle. His Isabelle.
She’d just come through the front door of the bar. Good news, she hadn’t just been grinding on Sven like she was about to fuck him raw on the dance floor.
The woman he’d first thought was Isabelle looked past him, and said, “Izzy. There you are.”
His beautiful Isabelle inhaled deeply and said to her identical twin sister, “Don’t call me Izzy. You know I hate that nickname, Ari.”
Chapter Twelve
Isabelle saw the relieved look in Warrick’s eyes. She also took in the tight proximity of her sister, Aribelle, to the strapping, tall man she’d likely been dancing with very closely. The sexy music played on into the sudden quiet of the room. Everyone else in the bar held their tongues as their eyes fixed on the drama about to unfold.
Isabelle could only imagine what Warrick had seen Ari doing with a virtual stranger. She’d probably been about to kiss her dance partner. Some things never change.
Warrick had come in here for some reason and seen her sister Ari dirty dancing with some other man. Even after the lengthy crying jag she’d endured all day, Isabelle was heartened to find out Warrick had obviously been jealous when he saw her sister with someone else.
“You thought she was me, didn’t you?” Isabelle asked.
Warrick put an arm around her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Only until she turned around. I knew she wasn’t you when I saw her face. Your hair color is the exact same shade as hers though. And she sounds like you.” He acted like everything was fine, when she was still heartbroken. He sounded very relieved, in fact.
To be fair though, he didn’t know how she felt. He didn’t know she’d overheard his morning conversation.
“What are you doing here, Warrick?” She tried not to sound so despondent, but by the expression on his face, she didn’t carry it off.
