VANESSA BELMONT
I went down hard, my knee scraping against the rough surface, the sting sharp enough to make me cry out.
"Vanessa!"
Nathan was there in an instant, his hand outstretched, his expression one of ... concern? But before he could help me, Fiona materialized out of nowhere. Her delicate fingers fluttered to her lips in faux distress as she stepped between Nathan and I.
"Oh no! Miss Belmont, are you hurt?" she said in her breathy voice. She clutched Nathan's arm.
Unbelievable.
Nathan shook off her grip, or at least tried to. She pretended like he wasn't trying to extricate himself. I glared up at her, but her adoring gaze never left Nathan.
Carver shouldered past my fiance, his usual smirky expression exchanged for one of anxiousness. "Neenie, are you okay?"
"Other than bruising my pride and my knee, I'm fine."
"You're bleeding," said Carver. He effortlessly scooped me up. I had no choice but to hold on to him. Nathan's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering between me and Fiona, who was now wrapped around his arm like kudzu.
"It's just a scrape," I muttered, but Carver was already carrying me toward the house.
Grace and Ollie fell into step beside us. "What does Nathan see in Fiona?" she asked. "She's obviously horrible."
"They're childhood friends," I said.
"Friends with benefits," muttered Grace. "I know a really great lawyer. I hate his guts, but he's amazing at his job. I can call him and see if there's a way for you to break the contract without paying the penalties."
"He'd be a miracle worker," I said. "Why do you hate his guts?"
"That's a long story," said Grace. "Just know that if I ever got into trouble, he'd be my first phone call."
"Does he hate you?"
"No. I wish he did."
"This sounds like a story I want to hear," said Ollie gleefully.
"Maybe one day I will tell you the tragic tale of Grace Witherstone and Marcus Lu."
"Of the Lu Group? Isn't their main business real estate?" said Ollie.
"Yes. Marcus opted out of the family business to become a divorce lawyer."
"On purpose?" I asked.
Grace nodded. "I know, right?"
We reached the house, and Ollie led the way into the huge first floor guest bathroom. He opened the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out a First Aid kit.
After he put medicine on the raw wound on my knee, I hissed in pain. He leaned forward and blew on the stinging owie.
I heard an angry male voice yell, "What the hell are you doing?"
Did you guess it was Nathan?
Because, yeah, it was Nathan.
***|***|***|***|***
VANESSA BELMONT
My fiance carried me down the hallway. He was not happy.
"Carver was blowing on my boo-boo to make it feel better," I explained.
"I am the only one who gets to blow on you."
"Oh, yeah? Yeah? Well, what about fucking Fiona? You shouldn't blow on her, either."
"We're just friends!"
"Lies!
We entered a guest room, one of many in this huge mansion. I don't want to say Nathan tossed me onto the bed, but yeah, he kinda did.
Then he started taking off his shirt.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Going to sleep."
"Here?" I pointed at the bed. "Here here?"
He nodded.
"Find a different room," I said. "There's a thousand of 'em."
"There are a lot of overnight guests and space is at a premium. We're engaged, Vanessa. It's only right that we share a room."
I grabbed a pillow and threw it. "Sleep on the floor. Or with Fiona."
"Malone took Fiona home."
I stared up at him. "You sent her home? Why? Don't you like cuddling while you sleep with your mistress?"
"She's not my mistress. What about Carver? You cuddle with him?"
"He's not my mistress, either." I crossed my arms. "You rented her an apartment, right? Buy her food and clothing? Gave her a job? Let her paw your chest muscles?"
"When did she--oh. The pool. I thought you were the one who fell in."
"I know how to swim. Why would you try to rescue me?"
"Because you're my wife."
"Not yet."
"Why do people keep saying that?"
"You told me we should break up!"
Nathan stared at me. "No, I didn't."
I pulled out my cell phone, opened my text app, and showed him last night's message.
"I didn't send that." He plucked his own phone out of his pocket and checked his texts. "It's not here. Are you it was sent from my phone?"
"This is why I don't want to marry you."
"What? Why?"
"Because one, you will always take Fiona's side and two, you never believe me when I tell you things."
Nathan took the phone again and studied the message string. Presumably to confirm that the text was sent from his phone. He pointed to the name at the top. "Asshat?"
"Formerly known as Nathan."
Nathan sat next to me. He returned my phone. "I'll investigate, okay? I'll give you an explanation. And for the record, Fiona has not, and will not, be spending the night with me."
"Why are you telling me? It's none of my business."
"You are so certain I'm going cheat."
I wagged my finger. "It's not technically cheating because this marriage is a business arrangement. That reminds me … we don't have to be sexually exclusive, right?"
"Why? You thinking about getting together with Carver Haynes?"
I shrugged.
Nate cupped my chin and turned my head so that I would look at him. "Let me answer for you. You're not. I don't want anyone else seeing what you wear under your clothing, much less touch you."
"Then don't touch Fiona. And don't be on her side all the time." I pushed his hand away. "Never mind. I'm not doing this again. The first time was hard enough. I died, you know? I died, Nate, and you saved Fiona." I poked him in the chest. "You suck."
Nate clasped my fingers. "You died? What the hell are you talking about?"