Page 106 of Angel

The off-the-shoulder neckline exposed my collarbones.

A high leg slit showed off my legs and heels with every step I took as I made my way to the suite’s living room.

Sofia emerged from the adjoining room in the gold gown, featuring a plunging back cut down to her spine and delicate crystal halter straps.

‘Holy shit, Roxy,’ Sofia breathed, stepping beside me. ‘Look at us.’

We stood together before a floor-to-ceiling mirror, two very normal women, now feeling like models in haute couture.

‘Not shabby for a pair of regular gals from Nashville, right?’ I whispered, adjusting the neckline.

‘Not bad at all,’ she smiled back.

‘Now let’s get out of these gowns and shower; the label is sending makeup artists and hair stylists in 20 minutes.’

As I spoke, Angel walked into Jude’s suite, freezing in his tracks as his gleaming eyes swept down my body.

The untapped admiration in his gaze made my cheeks flush, the distance between us melting away into a charged tension full of promise.

‘Fuck,’ Angel rasped, his voice rough as his smoky gaze locked onto mine. ‘You trying to kill me?’

My rockstar, badass husband was making it clear I was a turn-on in that dress.

I’d never felt more sexy than at this moment.

He walked up to me and hooked an arm around my waist, dipping to kiss my bare neck.

‘Even better is you without the dress on,’ he growled in a whisper just meant for me, before he stepped back, lips twisting as he appreciated me all over again.

Jude followed right behind him, letting out an appreciative whistle as he ate up his woman with his eyes.

‘Damn, sweetheart, you’re gonna start a freakin’ war in that dress.’

Angel strode close again, his heat wrapping around me as he leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my temple.

‘I want to tear this off,’ he murmured against my skin, his breath fanning hot across my cheek.

‘Maybe later,’ I whispered back, my heart thudding hard.

Our eyes locked and glittered with promise.

Definitely later.

Chapter 20

ANGEL

The Mediterranean breeze swept up the cliffside, carrying spray from crashing waves, mingling with the floral bouquet wafting from the hotel gardens.

Floodlights illuminated the grand descending stairway at Hotel du Cap-Eden-Roc, turning the limestone steps into a glittering runway.

Leggy supermodels in ridiculous silk gowns crowded the terrace, struggling to squeeze five-foot trains through the narrow revolving glass doors.

They had nothing on the woman beside me.

With her makeup done and her hair in pixie-styled perfection, my wife was a dream.

I straightened my tuxedo jacket, brimming with pride as I guided Roxy down the carpeted stairs.