Page 189 of Sin
“You’re doing that thing,” he says.
“What thing?”
“Looking at me like you’re about to cry and make a joke to hide it.”
“I would never.”
“Laurel.”
“Fine. I was deciding whether crying at an adult products expo is chic or alarming.”
“Both.”
“That tracks.”
His mouth curves, but his eyes stay soft. “I’m proud of you.”
The words settle into me. Even after all this time, those words from him still find the tender places.
“Thank you.”
“And I want to leave.”
I blink. The warmth vanishes, replaced by immediate suspicion. “Leave?”
“Yes.”
“Sin, the reception started twenty minutes ago.”
“I’m aware.”
“There are people here who flew in to meet me.”
“They met you.”
“There’s a champagne toast at nine.”
“I’ll send a bottle to our room.”
“Our room?” I repeat, even though I know exactly where this is going.
His thumb brushes my ring again. “One room. One bed. Remember?”
My entire body remembers. Amsterdam. The first hotel. The forbidden heat. The way everything started with guilt and want and a door clicking shut. My breath catches.
His expression shifts from teasing to something darker.
“Come upstairs with me,” he says.
My pulse jumps but I glance around the room. “We can’t just leave my own launch event.”
“Yes, we can.”
“That is very CEO of you.”
“I’m not the CEO here.”
“No. You’re just the fiancé trying to lure me away from professional responsibilities with one-room nostalgia.”
