Page 130 of A Vicious Love

“Yes.”

My gaze moved across the terrace.

That was when I saw Emmie.

She stood beside Marcel near the Crow table with one hand wrapped around her champagne flute. Marcel’s fingers touched the rose gold diamond collar absently while someone spoke to him, sliding over the metal in that familiar little ritual of his.

Emmie was looking at me.

I lifted one hand in greeting.

She lifted hers too. Harrison noticed and glanced toward me. He raised his drink.

My eyes found Jamison. He stood beside them.

Weston noticed the direction of my gaze.

He said nothing. I handed him my glass.

“I’ll be back.”

His eyes searched mine briefly. “All right.”

I crossed the terrace.

The closer I got to Jamison’s table, the more my confidence thinned. It was ridiculous. Four nights ago, his mouth had been on mine.

Today, he looked furious that I existed within sight.

Emmie smiled as I approached.

“Sienna.”

“Hi.” I looked between her and Marcel, trying to keep my voice light. “The event is beautiful.”

“It is,” Emmie said softly.

Marcel nodded once in greeting. Harrison looked toward the St. Cross table, then back at me with an expression I could not read.

Jamison said nothing.

His black shirt and dark trousers made him look severe against all the summer linen. His whiskey glass was nearly empty.

I tried to smile.

“Jamison?”

“What?”

I swallowed. “I’m sitting with Weston.”

“I can see that.”

“I thought…” I glanced at Emmie because I suddenly felt childish. “I thought I was sitting here. With everyone.”

Jamison’s mouth tightened. “Your name is on the St. Cross table.”

“Yes, but I don’t understand why.”