HUNTER GOT UP with Peyton and was handing her over to the newly arrived nanny when Amelia came to find them. She was dressed, but her hair was in a messy clip and she was still befuddled with sleep.
“Why didn’t you wake me? Isn’t she hungry?”
“I gave her a bottle.” Amelia had started pumping so he could feed her. “And we’ll be out tonight, so I thought you should sleep in.”
He tried reading her expression, but she became wrapped up in chatting with Matinder, so he left them to it.
The truth was, he had left her sleeping because she’d almost killed him last night. He’d awakened wanting her—that was constant—but he’d also been disturbed by how close he’d come to simply letting go last night.
He’d been tense after a long, restless day of ruminating over Remy and Eden. The oddest thing about that news was, once the initial shock had worn off, he discovered he didn’t care.
He cared about them as people, especially Remy. Hunter had met Remy in their first year of university. They had both been bored with the basic prerequisites they’d been forced to endure, going through the motions of earning paper credentials for work they already did. Unlike their classmates who were learning the theory of business, they had been deep in the practical trenches of their respective family corporations. Hunter had been leading Wave-Com’s R&D team. “You’re young,” his father had told him. “Keep us ahead of everyone else.” Remy had been running his family’s airline with his grandfather. He’d been flying planes longer than he’d held a license to drive a car.
Aside from the tragic fact that Remy had lost both his parents while still in high school, Hunter had always envied him. Remy’s family, spread among Paris, Montreal, Martinique and Haiti, was closely knit and very supportive of one another. Remy was good-looking, charming and smart. Everyone admired him for being a pilot and a talented vintner among his many other accomplishments.
“Chin up. No one likes the cable guy, but we all need him,” Remy had noted once, proving himself sarcastically funny as well.
Remy was, simply, a good friend. As the court case had begun taking its toll on Hunter, when he’d still been reeling from his father’s death, trying to keep the wheels from falling off the bus while fighting legal eagles and his dragon of a stepmother, Remy had insisted, “You need to unwind.”
The weekend was supposed to be golf, a few drinks and no phones. When the server at a microbrewery had flirted with Remy, Hunter hadn’t been the least surprised. He’d been taken aback that Remy suggested, “Ask your friend to join us.”
Hunter had been lousy company and said so, but Remy had said, “For God’s sake, man. Buy a pretty woman a drink and let her smile at you for an hour. That always cheers me up.”
Now he came to think of it, that was the last time Hunter had spent any time with Remy. He had congratulated Hunter on the legal win. Vienna had hosted a small party to celebrate and Hunter had invited Eden since they had begun to date. Remy had arrived, but quickly mentioned another engagement.
When Hunter had called to ask him to be his best man, there had been a brief pause and a cryptic remark about a business rivalry with Eden’s brother Micah. It had sounded like old news and something that happened across the pond.
“Who else would I ask? No one else would put up with me,” Hunter had insisted.
“Then it would be my honor,” Remy had assured him.
He had made an appearance at the engagement party, but hadn’t lingered. He had attended Hunter’s bachelor party, which had been another golf weekend, this time in British Columbia’s wine country. Remy had jokingly had “the talk” with Hunter, asking, “Are you sure about this marriage?”
At least, Hunter had thought he was joking.
As far as he knew, Remy and Eden had only met once before Hunter had reintroduced them, but now Hunter wondered. And even though he found the pair’s rushed marriage strange, he discovered that he felt no envy for Remy. He should. His friend was marrying the woman Hunter had thought would be his ideal match. Hunter could no longer imagine being married to Eden, though. Not now that he was with Amelia.
He wasn’t sure if he’d been misguided in his thinking when he had proposed to Eden, or was falling into the trap of self-indulgence with Amelia. Either way, it seemed he couldn’t and shouldn’t trust his own judgment.
That inner conflict had been eating at him when he met up with Amelia in their bedroom.
She had leaped on him in a way that had been gratifying. Too gratifying. His cynical brain had wondered if she was beginning to recognize her power over him and exercise it. Yet when he had asked her what she wanted, she had said, You.
Possibly the most ominous demand of all.
He mentally balked at letting down his guard. The barriers he had erected against her had to stay in place, for his own peace of mind, but he could tell she was nervous about tonight. He felt her agitation as she handed Peyton off to him, heading into a spare bedroom to have her hair and makeup done.
Hunter felt guilty for putting her through this. He had a learned aversion to parties, but a man in his position had no choice about attending at least some of them. Vi had always been a sport about going in his place when it made sense, but there was no avoiding this one.
This first appearance as a couple was inevitable, he reminded himself. He couldn’t do anything about the clouds hanging over them, so he and Amelia would just have to power through.
He was nervous, he realized as he poured himself a second drink while waiting for her. This was the first time in a long time that he was escorting someone so important to him.
He shrugged against that word. Important. It wasn’t wrong. Not only was Amelia the mother of his child, she was his wife. He cared about her, which was only right. A person ought to care about their spouse, but he didn’t like how vulnerable his depth of caring made him feel. He didn’t like how helpless he felt taking Amelia to a party where she would be measured against Eden.
He wasn’t concerned for his own sake. He didn’t care what people thought of him. If there had been a bright side to Irina’s constant scenes, it had been to forever inoculate him against embarrassment. His depth of concern for public opinion only went as far as caring how it affected the company. It was his job to watch for bad publicity and fix it.
Amelia, however, was not so impervious to censure. He’d seen it when she had caught glimpses of online troll dung. She wanted to reflect well on him and Hunter wanted to say a weary, It doesn’t matter. People would talk behind their hands regardless.
He heard her on the stairs and turned, catching a glimpse of her legs. Never mind stopping traffic. Those stems stopped his heart, playing peekaboo through the uprights as she picked her way down in a pair of gold sandals with rhinestone buckles against her ankle and a lethal heel.
The rest of her appeared in a short, sleeveless dress in a nude color with gold beading in geometric patterns. The weight of the beads caused the fabric to rest against her curves in the most arresting way.
Her hair had been cut before the wedding, removing the blond, leaving a rich brunette curtain that landed on her shoulders and flipped up with a vintage flair. Her makeup was only slightly heavier than what she applied herself, but it managed to make her eyes look bigger and darker, her lips plumper, and her skin radiant.
“Unity picked it out,” she said self-consciously as she came to a halt halfway toward him. “I thought it disguised the fact that I was still carrying some baby weight, but it’s too short, isn’t it? Now that I’ve put on heels?”
“Define ‘too short.’ Because I think you look hot as hell.”
“I’m supposed to look like your wife.” She plucked at the hem.
“My wife can’t be hot? Change if you’re uncomfortable, but I think that’s perfectly on brand. For you, actually, not just for my wife. You were wearing something much shorter when we met, and it suited the hell out of you, same as this.”
“Big surprise that all you can remember about me is my legs.” She flicked her hair behind her shoulder.
“Excuse me, but your legs are not the only thing I remember. They’re not even the first thing that drew my attention.” They were the second. “I heard you laugh and it was so engaging, I turned my head to see what the joke was.” Then he had caught an eyeful of her smiling profile, her pretty legs and ample breasts and straw-colored hair. He had immediately tried to pretend to himself and Remy that he wasn’t mesmerized.
She made a noise of uncertainty, looking down. “You really think this is okay? Because I feel like people are going to talk about me behind my back.”
“They absolutely will. Let’s give them something to talk about.” He waved her to come closer and reached for the box he’d left on the end table.
“Oh,” she murmured as she realized it was a jewelry box.
“This is where I went today.” He opened it to show her the necklace with rose-gold links in a basket weave pattern. Seven pink and white stones were interspersed between them across the front half.
“It’s beautiful, but— Wait,” she said, balking when he drew a circle in the air, indicating she should turn and lift her hair. “Those aren’t real, are they?”
“You think I bought you glass and plastic? They’re diamonds and pink sapphires, yes. Why? Don’t you like them?”
Her eyes grew wide enough to swallow her face. “I’m already nervous, Hunter. I can’t walk around wearing something so expensive. What if I lose it?”
“It’s insured. And I don’t know any jewelry designers who go to the trouble of making art hoping it will sit in a safe. Show it off. Turn around.”
She did, and he set the chain against her throat, closing it behind her neck, then setting a kiss there, wanting to linger and breathe in her fragrance of almonds and whipped cream.
“Is it a special designer? Why are people going to talk about it? What should I say if they ask?”
“That it’s your push present.”
“What? Hunter!” She whirled to face him. “Push presents are a fad created by advertisers to sell stuff to gullible dads.”
“It worked. But I am very grateful for our daughter, you know.” He traced a line along the inside of the necklace so it was a perfect arc beneath her collarbone.
She shivered, and he would bet this necklace that her nipples had just peaked behind her nursing pads. It was a heady enough thought to have him considering blowing off the party and heading back upstairs.
“I’m grateful for her, too,” Amelia said with a hint of impatience. “Does that mean I owe you a trinket for your manly effort in punching through a condom?”
“Ha!” The remark caught him so off guard, he couldn’t help laughing. Damn, but she knew how to lift him out of whatever ruminations he was trying to wallow in. “I appreciate the thought, but no.”
“Well, I didn’t need anything, either, but thank you.” She set her hand on his lapel and lifted her mouth to invite his kiss. Her pleased smile at making him laugh was so cute, he took a mental picture.
For one second, he thought, I don’t need anything else, either. Only you.
“There’s more,” he said, eschewing the kiss and clearing his throat. He stepped back to take her hand while he fished in his pocket. Then he slid the diamond ring onto her finger.
“No. Hunter. We talked about this. Oh, gosh,” she said helplessly. Covetously.
When they had prepared for their wedding, she had said she only wanted a plain wedding band because she didn’t want to accidentally scratch Peyton. They hadn’t been engaged, she said. It would be silly to wear a ring to signify the handful of hours before they married. They had settled on a platinum band with three baguette diamonds, and there hadn’t been a matching ring, anyway.
Hunter had spotted this one today, though, while he’d been picking out the necklace. Seven baguette diamonds stood at different heights like a miniature city skyline. When it sat nestled against her wedding band, the effect was not unlike the hazy silver shape of Toronto against the glittering water as they’d stood on the shoreline last year.
That sounded far too sentimental and romantic to admit, though.
“People will expect you to wear one, so put it on when we go out. I’ll give you the combination to the safe in the bedroom. You can store it there when you take it off.”
“Okay. Thank you.” She made a micro adjustment to the ring, lashes lowered, voice subdued. When she lifted her face, her smile wasn’t as warm or bright as it had been, making his stomach pitch.
“Careful of my makeup,” she said as he lowered his head to kiss her. “Let’s not give them that to talk about.”
Amelia was so nervous her hand was clammy in Hunter’s as he drew her into the party.
As if the pressure couldn’t get any worse, their host turned out to be a television personality. His wife held this solstice party every summer to celebrate the longest day of the year. The point was to arrive before sunset, so it was eight o’clock. The rain had ceased and the cloudy horizon was turning pink and pale gold.
Conversation lulled as they entered. Several pairs of curious eyes turned on them.
Amelia felt a pinch on her ring finger and realized she had tightened her grip on Hunter’s hand, causing her new ring to dig into her flesh. What a scaredy-cat.
She didn’t want to think about that ring, either. For a few seconds, she had been charmed and delighted. If the necklace affirmed his joy at having a daughter, the ring must be a symbol of his gladness at marrying her, right?
Then Hunter had reduced its significance to carrying an umbrella in case it rained. People will expect it.
“Hunter!” Their hostess approached with a beaming smile. “We’re so glad you both could make it.”
“So are we.” He introduced Amelia, and they began making the rounds.
Her on-and-off career in the service industry came to her rescue. The ability to gauge when and how much small talk to make was a surefire way to improve tips.
Each time she met someone new, she asked a variation of, “Where’s home?” or “Where do you plan to travel next?”
She liked to make the other person feel superior, too. She said, “I’m dying to get to know the Okanagan labels. Which wineries do you recommend?” and, “That’s my father’s team. He would disown me if I didn’t root for them, but he’s not here so I’ll secretly agree with you. They’re playing terribly this year.”
Hunter stood by, interjecting with his own droll remarks, making her feel safe and funny and pretty. She began to relax and enjoy herself.
That’s why she was so aghast when a viper struck.
A woman who had had one too many leaned in to ask, “What do you think of this sudden marriage between Eden Bellamy and Remy Sylvain? Sounds like Hunter wasn’t the only one stepping out. What can you tell me about it?”
“Nothing,” Amelia blurted, falling back on something her mother used to say. “There’s no such thing as harmless gossip. It always stabs someone.” She wanted to cringe as soon as the pompous words came out of her mouth. Who did she think she was?
Clinging to her last shred of dignity, she said, “Would you excuse me? I should check with our nanny.”
She hurried away without even looking at Hunter, far too mortified that she had done the one thing she had sworn she wouldn’t. She had embarrassed him.