Page 124 of The Heart You Kept

“Edward, this is Thomas. Thomas, this is Edward,” I splutter.

Thomas holds his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Edward nods but doesn’t reply, his eyes are locked on Thomas’s.

“Haha, who is this?” I laugh in a high-pitched voice.

So help me god.

“My apologies.” Edward snaps out of it. “This is Colette.” He puts his hand on the small of her back as he introduces her.

“Bonjour.” She smiles as we shake her hand. She has long blond hair and a stunning face. She’s wearing a skintight black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Who the hell is this woman…and why is his hand on her back?

Does he just have beautiful women on speed dial everywhere he goes…ugh, and why are they always blond? My eyes dart around as I search for the closest exit and that’s when I see his three bodyguards standing by the wall, watching us.

Perspiration dusts my skin and a fully fledged panic attack is imminent.

“So Colette, are you a local?” Thomas smiles calmly.

“Oui.”

He says something to her in French and she laughs and says something back.

Edward’s cold eyes hold mine; he’s openly pissed.

Well, that makes two of us…get your hand off her, asshole.

“So what did you do today?” Edward asks me.

“Um.” I try to think on my feet. “Had lunch. Went shopping, got a blowout.”

Witty….

Edward’s eyes roam over my hair as if deciphering whether I’m lying.

“What did you do?” I ask nervously.

“Lots of things.” He sips his drink and turns his attention back to Thomas. “So, Thomas, what’s your surname?”

“Oh my gosh, did you see what they have on the menu?” I cut him off.

“Yes I did.” Thomas plays along. “We’re going to have to get it.”

Edward’s jaw clenches as he glares at Thomas.

“Let’s get one.” I grab Thomas’s hand and pull him to the bar.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” I whisper.

“What are you shitting about, I’m the one about to be murdered.” He opens the menu. “Great knowing you, Alora, we should have had sex before we came down so it was at least worth it.”

My eyes linger on Edward and Colette as they chat. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

“Who fucking cares?” he whispers. “We need to leave. Now!”

“Oh, you think?” I widen my eyes. “And for the record, you are terrible at being discreet.”