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That was the only reason I’d felt comfortable bringing Saoirse tonight. I’d made the mistake of taking Francesca to bed a few years ago. Now, every time our paths crossed, her attempts to lure me in for a repeat were unsubtle and off-putting. There was no way I would willingly expose Saoirse to it.
Francesca hadn’t dropped her hand, merely sliding it down my arm. “Keeping up with me, are you?” A practiced, throaty giggle fell then disappeared like it had never been there. “Yes, I’m still living in Paris, but Dad asked me to be here for my step-monster’s big three-oh. How could I refuse?”
“Probably best if he doesn’t hear you call her that.”
“Oh, please. He married a woman three years older than me who barely speaks. What did he expect?” She gave my arm a squeeze. “It’s been too long since we’ve run into each other. Tell me what you’ve been up to, handsome.”
I took her hand in mine and lowered it to her side. “I’m married.”
She burst out laughing, this one real and boisterous. I cringed at the heads no doubt turning our way and took a subtle step away from her. The last thing I needed was for anyone to get the idea I was flirting with Francesca.
Especially Saoirse, who I’d lost sight of.
When I didn’t join Francesca’s laughter, it slowly waned. “Oh my god. You’re not serious, are you?”
I nodded once, folding my arms over my chest so my ring was visible. She homed in on it, her eyes flaring.
“I’m very serious. My wife is here somewhere. Actually, I should be looking for her.”
Francesca patted her rosy cheek, and her mouth pulled tight. “You’ll have to introduce us. I wouldloveto see the woman who tamed you.”
My nostrils flared, and another hit of heavy jasmine assaulted me. “We’ll see. Have a good evening.”
With that, I brushed by her and went in search of my wife.
Chapter Twenty-six
Saoirse
Saoirse
Some people didn’t enjoy themselves at parties where they didn’t know anyone, but that wasn’t me. My mother said I could make friends with a brick wall, and although I always thought she meant it in a negative light, it was true, and I liked that aspect of myself.
I was having a great time. With Clara here, the company was wonderful, and every time my earrings swayed, I was reminded of how sweet Luca had been in the limo.
I’d just broken away from Clara and Shira to find him when I stopped dead in my tracks. A gorgeous brunette had her hands all over my husband. I watched him stand there, not removing her hands, and bile rose in my throat.
I couldn’t watch them together for another second.
Swiveling in the opposite direction, I made my way into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water to cool off. Too bad I couldn’t pour it over my brain, which was sizzling.
Whatever our relationship might’ve been in private, in public, Luca was supposed to be mine, which meant no sexy brunettes pawing all over him. I hated that I had to witness that, and even worse, I hated that I wasn’t able to see how much worse it got. Who knew? They could’ve been making out right now. Licking whiskey off each other’s hot bodies. Fucking on the—
“Oh. Hello.”
My downward spiral was interrupted by Miller stutter-stepping into the kitchen.
“Hey, Miller.”
He gestured to the empty kitchen. “Is this a party for one, or may I join you?”
“Of course you can join me.” I held up my glass, pleased at the interruption, even if it meant having to spend time with Miller. “I was having a glass of water. Wild times.”
He filled up his own glass and leaned his hip against the counter across from me. His smile was stiff and didn’t reach his eyes. “Sometimes these things get overwhelming and I need to find a quiet spot to take a break.”
“You and Clara really balance each other since she seems to enjoy socializing.”
“She does.” He lifted his glass to his lips. “It’s always been a bone of contention between us.”
