Page 33 of The Perfect Heart

The door in the mirror opened, and I jerked my head around to see Jack entering the room, my heart fluttering. He looked so handsome in his bespoke tuxedo, perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders and athletic build from rowing and tennis.

But his eyebrows drew down as he saw me, and the flutter turned into a twinge of concern.

“What are you doing in here?”

“I just needed a moment to breathe,” I told him quickly, my gown rustling as I moved across the room toward him. He beckoned, and I came to him, letting him pull me in as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

For a moment, I thought I heard an odd edge to his tone, as though he was serious and upset. But I laughed quietly, putting a hand to his cheek.

“Of course not, silly. Why would I have second thoughts?”

His eyebrows lifted, and he pulled me closer, his grip possessive. “Good, because if you were ever to leave me, I would track you down and drag you back home.”

I laughed again as he pulled me in for a hug, ignoring the shiver that went down my back at the words. He was joking, of course. He was always joking with me about my design choices, where I had come from, what I said, and how I cooked. I had imagined entirely the sharp edge to his words.

And yet, the words followed me as he took my hand and led me out, dragging me behind him like my train, leaving a cold pit in my stomach. But as the sounds of the party echoed up from the base of the curving marble staircase, I brushed them off.

He loves me. Of course, he would want to hang on to me. He told me I’m his world.

“Oh, Jack.”

Something had popped into my head at his words, though I wasn’t sure why, something that I had meant to ask but never found the time.

He looked over his shoulder, my hand still in his. “Hmm?”

“Did you ever get an RSVP from Nash?”

My husband’s eyebrows beetled again at the name as he tried to recall a face.

“My friend from Leavenworth. I was expecting him but haven’t seen him.”

The confusion cleared from Jack’s face, and he looked back down the staircase, waving at an old college buddy of his I had just met. “Oh, him. You’re no longer allowed to be friends with him, okay? You’re all mine, Hal, and I won’t share you with another man. You’re mine now.”

I stumbled on the last step, my hand falling from Jack’s as I reached out to steady myself on the balustrade, watching the back of my new husband’s head as he met his friend with a handshake. Not even looking back to make sure I was okay.

Not even realizing the ice in my veins his words had created.

Chapter 17

Nash

I DIDN’T FEEL THE PRICKLE on my neck until I turned the key to engage the last lock on the door. It was a prickle on the skin first, something that shivered across my shoulders, the hair rising in response.

But when I jerked around, nothing was there. The street was silent, no cars, no people passing by. This late at night, the entire town was quiet, the only light from the strings of holiday lights, the bulk of the mountains invisible in the darkness. I didn’t hear anything when I listened, and it wasn’t easy to stay silent when walking over ice and snow.

Finally turning to pull the key from the lock, I tried to suppress a shiver, uneasiness still prickling up and down my back. Was it a bear? It wasn’t unheard of for one to wander down the street. They were fun to see from afar, but I didn’t want to be on the same sidewalk with one.

But I saw no bear when I hefted my backpack, my gaze sweeping the area one more time before I started for my car, which was parked across the street and down.

Halfway across the street, I finally saw movement in the shadows of an alley between two buildings. I froze, assessing the situation. Was it some teenager looking for trouble? A raccoon looking through the trash? A tourist taking a late walk and a smoke break?

The shadows shifted, and I was suddenly on high alert as the figure moved out of the shadows, its attention on the sidewalk to the side of the building. Whoever it was had a mask pulled over their face, the kind you saw in movies when someone was trying to rob a bank, the type that obscured any specific facial features.

“Hey!”

The figure jerked to a stop at my shout, head whipping toward me. The eyes, the only thing I could see, rounded as the person realized I was coming across the road toward him. Had he been watching me? From what I could see of the clothes and broad shoulders, it had to be a guy.