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People were clapping loudly. Voices were raised. The sounds melted together and rang in her ear, making it hard for her to hear. Or maybe it was the champagne. She blinked rapidly, shielded her eyes, and almost immediately spied Hudson watching her a few feet away. His face was grim, his eyes so cold, they made her stomach turn. He looked as if he wanted to break her in two.
And then her world fell away.
Nash appeared beside him. He didn’t look angry. Or disappointed. Or hurt. There was no expression on his handsome face. Zero. It was as if he were made of stone and incapable of feeling. She looked back at the check. Was it only this morning she’d lain in his arms and said those three words that changed everything? Had he really said them back?
Could her world implode in less than twelve hours?
Pain hit her like a tidal wave, and with it, a wave of emotion. Her breath caught at the back of the throat and her eyes stung. She’d come so far—ended up in a place she never thought possible. She’d opened up her heart. Hell, she’d signed the damn thing and handed it over. Given her body and soul to this man.
And he was looking at her as if she didn’t exist.
I can fix this. She had to fix this.
“Nash,” she whispered, a cry meant only for him. But the words echoed throughout the room, amplified by the microphone a few inches away.
He flinched at the sound of her voice, as if it physically hurt him. He shook his head and stepped back.
Don’t walk away from me.
She didn’t know the anguished cry was ripped from her until he looked up at her with such loathing and dislike, she bit her lips so she couldn’t say another word. She thought he would leave and that would be the end of it. But he didn’t. He pushed his way past Hudson and strode toward the stage.
He didn’t stop until he stood below her, mere inches away. His anger so palpable, she felt it as surely as if he’d slapped her. For a few moments, he didn’t say a word. The entire room was deathly silent, the people in attendance aware that a very private drama was being played out in front of them, but unable to leave.
When he finally spoke, it was anticlimactic. “Did you use me to get close to the Blackwells so you could scam them for money?”
Oh God. Her stomach dropped and she thought she was going to faint. “No.” She shook her head. This had never been about money.
“Really.” His eyes narrowed. “Weren’t you arrested two years ago in Las Vegas for fraud?”
Her eyes flew to Hudson, and she remembered a conversation they’d had about Vegas. Her heart sank. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. She’d been through worse. Been h
urt worse.
“Nash, let me explain—”
“Were you arrested?”
“Yes,” she whispered, wincing when a few folks in the crowd voiced their surprise.
“Did you swindle a retired couple out of thirty thousand dollars in Florida?”
“I didn’t…” She looked down at the check. He wouldn’t believe her. Hell, she wouldn’t believe her if she were watching this train wreck. The fact was, her mother was to blame, but she’d taken the fall because it happened just after her mother had been diagnosed.
“You gonna answer that one?”
“Yes.” This time she answered more clearly and looked him straight in the eye. “But I paid that money back. I—”
“Did you work as a stripper in Shreveport? Did you get picked up for prostitution?” She saw the hurt in his eyes. The disbelief. The disgust.
That thing inside Honey, the thing that allowed her to survive all the crap she’d lived through, well, it rose up and rescued her. It grabbed her by the throat and wouldn’t let go. She knew she was done here. She knew he’d never believe the prostitution thing was a mistake. She’d been rounded up with a bunch of girls at the Gentlemen’s Club, but she’d never prostituted herself. Had she taken her clothes off for money? Hell, yeah. There’d been a time she’d been desperate for cash because her mother was ill and needed treatment for the cancer. She wasn’t ashamed of what she’d done. She was strong, and she’d survived. That was all that mattered.
“Yes,” she managed to say, her voice breaking when he took a step forward.
“Yes to what?” His voice was harsh, his attack unrelenting.
She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, I took my clothes off for money. Yes, I was arrested for prostitution.”
Again, surprise and outrage from the gathered crowd reached her ears. She looked out at them. Saw the condemnation. The disbelief. And from some, the satisfaction. Hot tears stung the corners of her eyes, and it took everything she had to push them back. No way would she cry in front of these people—in front of Nash and Hudson.
