Page 144 of On Edge

I turn away, too, only to find my father in the doorway. He looks the same as always: sharp suit, expensive cut, but not new. When I embrace him, he envelops me in cheap cologne.

“Sage.” He kisses my cheek, and I force myself not to flinch. “You look ravishing. Troy Severin is a lucky man.”

He pulls back and regards me with calculating eyes that constantly targeted me as a child, and a smile that always gave me the chills. Still does.

“Luck had nothing to do with it.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

My father’s fake smile doesn’t falter. “Of course not. Everyone in this family plays their part.”

Before I can respond, there’s a hush around the room. Baby hairs prick at the back of my neck, and a warmth spreads to my toes when I hear his voice.

Troy is here.

It always feels like he’s watching me.

But when I turn around, his eyes are cold, reflecting nothing, looking at the person he’s talking to and not at me. For a rare moment, I get to study him. He’s dressed in a dark blue dinner jacket, a crisp pale blue shirt with the collar open, and no tie. He looks every inch the arrogant billionaire that everyone reveres him as. A far cry from the man who held me captive last night, who hissedgood girlagainst my skin like a sin, who teased me until I was writhing on the floor, making me feel needed for the first time in my life.

As his eyes fix on my father, his face goes hard, a snarl making his lips cruel momentarily. Then it’s gone, hidden behind a polite mask as he crosses the room towards us. Finally, his eyes find mine, the light glinting in his green irises, as a dark carnal look crosses his face that makes me forget to breathe.

But it’s not you he really wants,Nell whispers in my ear.

I shove Nell out of my head and smile at Troy. He doesn’t smile back, but he doesn’t look anywhere else, not even when Mundel appears beside him like a shadow to speak in low tones. He looks at me like a man starved, despite the tightness in his shoulders and around his mouth.

It’s then I realize, Troy is nervous.

He’s never nervous.

“Well,” my father says under his breath. “It looks like you’ve done your bit for once, and brought him to heel.”

“Richard. Melanie. Thank you for coming.” Troy’s voice is smooth as silk, sliding over me. As he reaches us, his arm does the same to my waist, pulling me over an invisible line to his side. “I trust your rooms are satisfactory?” Like a switch, he’s suddenly at ease, my charming fiancé brought to life; he even extends a hand to shake.

“Rooms are fine.” My father shrugs, not taking it.

Troy takes in my father for just a beat too long, his jaw clenching, before retracting his hand.

I force a smile. “Dad, you’re in the penthouse suite. It’s more than fine.”

Mother comes to the fray just as I want to leave it. “Quite the property portfolio you have, Troy. This hotel must be worth a fortune.”

I want to roll my eyes. Money is all she cares about these days.

“More than you can imagine,” he replies, looking right at my father.

“It’s also quite convenient. I do wonder about having the ceremony all the way out at that dreary estate tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be nicer to marry here?” As though she doesn’t want to make more effort than necessary.

“I prefer to have privacy.” Troy gives her a hooded look. “Keep what’s yours from prying eyes.”

“And lying hearts,” I murmur, finishing the saying before I can stop myself.

“How ominous.” My father chuckles. “You both sound like one of those old Wychshire families clinging to their dusty proverbs. Perhaps you’ve been out here on that island too long. Isolation breeds paranoia.”

Troy’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly.

“But you’re from the States, aren’t you, Troy?” My mother looks confused.

“Yes, but I appreciate local wisdom. The founding families understood that you protect what’s yours, no matter what, or let it be taken from you.” He tightens his arm around me, pulling me closer, muscle in his jaw ticking.

Line definitely drawn.