Jasper Vale (The Edens #4)

“Did you have fun today?” Jasper asked.

“Yes.” I twisted to meet his gaze. His face was smooth and freshly shaved, so I lifted up on my toes to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thanks for taking me.”

“Welcome.” He pressed his lips to my temple, then turned to the view.

Jasper had been quiet today as we’d explored, not unusual. He’d indulged me, walking at my side as I’d wandered and snapped hundreds of pictures. The only sign that he’d been enjoying himself were the crinkles at his eyes.

Except those crinkles had faded with every passing hour. And by the time we’d made it back to the hotel to start getting ready, he was back to the stone-faced man I’d lived with for months.

Was he nervous to see Sam again? Would this be painful for him, seeing the woman he’d loved—loves—marry another man? The ceremony might be too hard for him to attend, but going to the reception wouldn’t be much easier.

Last night, even tired, I’d noticed a shift in Jasper’s mood. Sex had held an edge. A frantic pace. His entire body had been tense, every honed muscle straining.

Or maybe that tension had been my own.

Was I ready for this? Somewhere nearby, the ceremony would be starting soon. Sam and her fiancé would exchange vows and rings.

My hand slid along Jasper’s, my fingers skating over the knuckles on his left hand. His bare left hand. The ring I’d bought him had disappeared. For all I knew, he’d thrown it in the trash.

He didn’t wear rings. Fine. Part of me still hoped that maybe . . . maybe mine would be his exception.

Had he worn Samantha’s ring? Probably. Yes. I knew the answer. I hated that answer.

That woman had taken everything. Every first. Every memory. From that very first night at the Clover Chapel, I hadn’t even stood a chance, had I?

The ache in my chest made it hard to breathe, so I wiggled free, slipping from Jasper’s arms. “I’d better get in the shower.”

Before I could slip past him, he caught my elbow. Then he framed my face with his hands, dropping his lips to mine.

I rose on my toes, fluttering my tongue against his, needing to hear that low growl in his chest. The desire for me, not Sam. Me. Emotion clawed at my throat, so before I could cry, I broke the kiss, forcing a smile as I slipped into the bathroom. Then I channeled the turmoil in my heart toward looking my absolute best.

The gown Jasper had chosen was a pale lavender. The neckline left my shoulders exposed but its sleeves hit past my elbows. The bodice fit my slight curves, giving the illusion of an hourglass figure. A pleated gather at one hip created a sexy slit that ran to the top of my thigh.

I artfully applied my makeup, going heavier than normal with eye shadow. But my lips stayed pale. And my hair was straight, falling in sleek panels over my shoulders, where the ends tickled my waist.

When I emerged from the bathroom, I found Jasper in the sitting area, adjusting a silver cuff link.

The sight of him in a tux, the black jacket and slacks tailored perfectly to his broad frame, stole the air from my lungs.

This had been his life, hadn’t it? Tuxedos. Elegant hotels. Money. He’d donned that suit and, with it, a power I hadn’t noticed before. Wealth fit him. This was the other side of his life, the side he worked so hard to hide.

Cuff link secure, he glanced up. And froze.

Those dark eyes traveled down my body, head to toe, in a lazy inspection. His Adam’s apple bobbed. And then, without hesitation or reserve, he adjusted the bulge swelling behind his slacks.

“You are magnificent.” His gravelly voice sent a shiver down my spine. A curl of desire bloomed in my core. My hands itched to strip him out of that suit, but that would have to wait.

First, I had a job to do: make his ex-wife jealous. I’d gladly be the woman to rub what she’d lost in her face.

“Ready for this?” I asked.

“Are you?”

“Yeah.” I was ready.

He walked over, bending to brush a kiss to my cheek. Then he held out an elbow, waiting for me to take his arm before he escorted me from the room and down the carpeted hallway to the elevator.

The ride to the first floor was quiet, but the moment the doors slid open, noise filled the lobby.

We strode toward the crowd gathered outside the ballroom, my heels clicking against the polished black and white marble floor. I clutched Jasper’s arm while letting my eyes wander, taking in every detail from the crystal chandeliers to the ornately carved pillars that bracketed every hallway.

“This hotel . . .”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s a dream.”

Jasper hummed. “I prefer a quaint little hotel in Quincy, Montana.”

“Funny.” I looked up, finding his gaze waiting. I’d expected to see some teasing there, but he was dead serious, wasn’t he? He liked The Eloise better than this?

I loved Jasper for that.

I loved Jasper.

Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with my husband.

That emotion came clawing back, but I swallowed it down, once more concentrating on the hotel’s intricate details. “I’m taking notes tonight for our own wedding offerings.”

“I would expect nothing less,” he said as we fell in line with the other guests, inching our way into the reception.

A string quartet was staged in the corner, their music mingling with the hum of conversation and laughter.

The ballroom was bright, the walls cream, as they were throughout the hotel. Matching cloths covered the tables and chairs. The centerpieces were gold candelabras that held dripping white candles. Every table was teeming with pale peonies and pristine white roses. Crystal wall sconces and glimmering chandeliers bathed the room in golden light.

One wall was made of arched openings to an outside terrace. The scent of roses and tangy ocean salt carried across the air.

It was elegant. Mesmerizing. Samantha’s tastes were similar to my own. That shouldn’t have surprised me considering the man we’d both married, but seeing this venue brought the realization front and center. It left a sour taste in my mouth, but I refused to let any bitterness show. There was nothing but a carefree smile on my face.

If the worst thing people said about me tonight was that I was too smiley, I’d call it a win.

Women in designer dresses sipped from crystal champagne flutes. Men in tuxes, like Jasper’s, held tumblers with amber whiskey or colorless cocktails.

The bride and groom were noticeably missing. Thank God. I was going to need a drink before that face-off.

As a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne, Jasper took two glasses, handing me one.

Expensive bubbles burst on my tongue.

Jasper lifted his to his lips, taking a drink. His shoulders were pinned back, his posture poised, yet relaxed as he scanned the room.