Page 142 of The Temporary Bride

“If I ever hear you say something negative about my wife again, or if I ever hear that you’ve hurt her somehow, a lawsuit will be the least of your worries.” Anger simmers in my veins, burning through my limbs. “I will end you.”

I release the front of Vincent’s suit, letting the fabric slip from my grasp as I take a step back. He seems stunned and angry. He clearly wasn’t expecting me to snap like that, to push back so forcefully.

Vincent’s mouth opens as if he’s about to say something, but the words don’t come. He just glares at me, his face flushed with rage, but there’s a hesitation in his eyes. Maybe he’s finally realizing that this isn’t a fight he’s going to win.

“Do us both a favor,” I grit out. “Get the fuck away from me, and stay there.”

Vincent’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. He just stands there, fuming silently, his fists clenched at his sides. I hold his gaze for a moment longer before he finally turns and stalks away without another word.

I take a step to return to the table, but then I see her.

Chloe is standing there, just a few feet away, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and something else I can’t quite place.

Shit. She must have heard everything.

Chapter 52

Chloe

Tristan’s eyes meet mine, and I can tell he didn’t realize I was listening. There’s something like worry in his expression, as if he’s bracing for me to react badly to what I just heard.

But all I can think about is what he said. The conviction in his voice when he talked about me, how he defended me to my father without hesitation, the pride in every word. It hits somewhere that’s been closed off for weeks. This is what I missed. Not just the physical closeness, although I missed that too, but this.

Being someone he fights for.

Mattering to him without him trying to hide it or qualify it or walk it back.

Tristan clears his throat. “Chloe, I⁠—”

Before he can finish, I close the distance and kiss him.

His arms go around me as our lips meet, the sweetness of it spreading through my chest even as I go up on my tiptoes to kiss him harder. It starts as pure relief, just the need to be close to him again after weeks of distance and hurt and sleeping at Ivy’s place with a knot in my chest that wouldn’t go away. But his mouth moves against mine, one hand palming the back of my head, and heat builds fast underneath everything else. My hands find the front of his jacket and grip it as my teeth scrape his lower lip. He responds immediately, groaning into my mouth as the arm around my waist pins me even tighter against him.

We’re standing in a hallway of a restaurant and neither of us seems to care about that even a little bit. He backs me against the wall without breaking the kiss, and as my back hits it, I stop thinking about where we are entirely. His hands roam over me, his palms hot through the fabric of my dress, and I arch into him. Our breathing is fast and uneven, and I’ve missed this so much that it takes everything I have not to tear off his clothes right here and now.

He grinds against me, letting me feel exactly what this is doing to him, and a sound escapes me that I muffle against his lips.

Then he pulls back, breathing hard. He glances over his shoulder down the hall before leaning in close to whisper into my good ear.

“If we don’t leave right now,” he breathes, “I’m going to fuck you against this wall. And I need you so fucking badly right now that I might not be able to stop myself.”

My pulse spikes hard at that. I’m not entirely opposed to it, which tells me everything about the state I’m in right now. I look up at him, at the dark flush across his cheekbones and his eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing in this building worth looking at, and I nod.

“Then let’s go,” I whisper.

He exhales slowly, like he’s reining himself in with some effort, and takes my hand. He flags down our server and pays quickly, then steers me through the restaurant with his hand at the small of my back. A few people glance our way as we pass, and I’m aware that I probably look mussed and disheveled, but I really can’t bring myself to give a shit about their opinions right now.

We push through the front door and out into the night air. It’s cool against my flushed skin, and I suck in a breath as my pulse races. His hand is still at my back, his body still close to mine, and all I can think about is getting somewhere private.

The car is already waiting at the curb. Tristan opens the door so I can slide in, and he’s right behind me, reaching immediately for the partition and raising it before he’s even fully settled. Then he reaches over and tugs me onto his lap. I end up straddling him in the back seat of the car as it pulls into traffic, my skirt riding up, both of us still breathing harder than normal.

He kisses me before I’ve even found my balance.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he says against my mouth, his hands gripping my hips hard. “I mean that. Fucking never.” He pulls back just far enough to look at my face, his eyes dark and serious. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for what I said to you.”

“I know,” I whisper. Because I do.

“I should’ve trusted you from the start.” He kisses me again, harder, his hands moving from my hips to my back and up into my hair. “I should never have doubted you for a second.”