they left the lounge, but rather on the man standing beside her.
Ryder chuckled, a low dangerous, somewhat amused chuckle, before speaking to her in an even lower tone. “Why don’t we scrap reserving it for my lucky lady and reserve it for the two of us.”
Her teeth gritted together.
Hog.
He continued. “I wouldn’t mind hiking you onto the head table...” Against her will, the vision he described flashed in her head.
Violet refused to look at Ryder. Her fingers tightened around her iPad and her jaw clenched. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop it. Yes, she was showing emotion. Yes, she was letting him witness the effects of his words, but damn it a clenched jaw was better than the glare no one would mistake and inevitably question.
Missy and her posse continued to debate the ballroom.
Pick a room. Pick a room!
Joel made his way to Violet and Ryder. He stopped directly in Violet’s vision, so his un-tucked sweater was all she could see. Violet didn’t miss his rounded middle or his hands touching the small of her back. She realized a long time ago, that his intentions had not been to protect her or love her until death do them part. No, Joel was a selfish man, and he’d only ever thought about himself.
Joel’s attention was on Ryder.
Thank goodness.
“Ryder, tell me about what kept you? Don’t leave out any details. I want to hear all about the blonde and the brunette.”
I don’t want to hear! Keep your composure. I should text Emma. I should join Missy and the bridesmaids to hurry this along. I should be anywhere, but right here, right now, listening to this conversation.
Violet’s fingers didn’t retrieve her cell phone and her feet wouldn’t move. They were both attached to the part of her that did want to hear what Ryder had been up to before he arrived. It was probably one of the better ideas she’d had all day. Violet needed a crucial reminder of the man Ryder Carlex in fact was. An essential dose of reality telling her that Ryder was not looking at her, or even wanting to know her better. Ryder was a playboy. Her gut told her differently. Or else it was hope. Hope? Hope! Hope for what? That Ryder wasn’t the man Joel said he was. Why? What difference did it make?
It didn’t make any difference. In order for Violet to move past the reaction that her body was having to Ryder, she needed to listen to this conversation and experience the authentic Ryder Carlex.
***
RYDER WATCHED THE muscles in Violet’s jaw tighten, even more than before Joel had arrived. This time, with Joel’s presence, Ryder couldn’t observe...and take pleasure in the way Violet’s full lower lip pursed with the clenched motion.
Joel could never know what had transpired between them. Bro code, or some shit like that. Besides, Ryder didn’t want to fuel the bad blood that ran between Joel and his ex-wife.
Now that Ryder had felt Violet under his touch, his outlook on this woman was changing.
Changing? Why? You had sex with her that was it. Unexpected, mind-blowing, can’t-get-it-out-of-my-head, sex.
He felt like a teenager who’d tasted his first flavour of a woman, leaving him craving more. Only he’d had women, but never one like Violet.
Ryder shook his head, as he dragged his gaze away from Violet’s luscious lip that he wanted to tug between his teeth, and back to the gold ballroom they stood in.
I need a new distraction .
Neutral framed oil paintings lined the walls around them, encased in exquisite moulding contrasting against the dark cherry wood floor, and brass chandeliers above.
If Ryder had forbidden his feet to take him to Violet, which would have been the better decision, and instead stopped to read the signed art, he didn’t doubt the marvelous masterpieces would be renowned artist. But there was something intriguing about the way this woman looked at him, like she wanted to look at him, and the battle in her eyes made him want to dig deeper into what made Violet
Ryder chuckled, a low dangerous, somewhat amused chuckle, before speaking to her in an even lower tone. “Why don’t we scrap reserving it for my lucky lady and reserve it for the two of us.”
Her teeth gritted together.
Hog.
He continued. “I wouldn’t mind hiking you onto the head table...” Against her will, the vision he described flashed in her head.
Violet refused to look at Ryder. Her fingers tightened around her iPad and her jaw clenched. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop it. Yes, she was showing emotion. Yes, she was letting him witness the effects of his words, but damn it a clenched jaw was better than the glare no one would mistake and inevitably question.
Missy and her posse continued to debate the ballroom.
Pick a room. Pick a room!
Joel made his way to Violet and Ryder. He stopped directly in Violet’s vision, so his un-tucked sweater was all she could see. Violet didn’t miss his rounded middle or his hands touching the small of her back. She realized a long time ago, that his intentions had not been to protect her or love her until death do them part. No, Joel was a selfish man, and he’d only ever thought about himself.
Joel’s attention was on Ryder.
Thank goodness.
“Ryder, tell me about what kept you? Don’t leave out any details. I want to hear all about the blonde and the brunette.”
I don’t want to hear! Keep your composure. I should text Emma. I should join Missy and the bridesmaids to hurry this along. I should be anywhere, but right here, right now, listening to this conversation.
Violet’s fingers didn’t retrieve her cell phone and her feet wouldn’t move. They were both attached to the part of her that did want to hear what Ryder had been up to before he arrived. It was probably one of the better ideas she’d had all day. Violet needed a crucial reminder of the man Ryder Carlex in fact was. An essential dose of reality telling her that Ryder was not looking at her, or even wanting to know her better. Ryder was a playboy. Her gut told her differently. Or else it was hope. Hope? Hope! Hope for what? That Ryder wasn’t the man Joel said he was. Why? What difference did it make?
It didn’t make any difference. In order for Violet to move past the reaction that her body was having to Ryder, she needed to listen to this conversation and experience the authentic Ryder Carlex.
***
RYDER WATCHED THE muscles in Violet’s jaw tighten, even more than before Joel had arrived. This time, with Joel’s presence, Ryder couldn’t observe...and take pleasure in the way Violet’s full lower lip pursed with the clenched motion.
Joel could never know what had transpired between them. Bro code, or some shit like that. Besides, Ryder didn’t want to fuel the bad blood that ran between Joel and his ex-wife.
Now that Ryder had felt Violet under his touch, his outlook on this woman was changing.
Changing? Why? You had sex with her that was it. Unexpected, mind-blowing, can’t-get-it-out-of-my-head, sex.
He felt like a teenager who’d tasted his first flavour of a woman, leaving him craving more. Only he’d had women, but never one like Violet.
Ryder shook his head, as he dragged his gaze away from Violet’s luscious lip that he wanted to tug between his teeth, and back to the gold ballroom they stood in.
I need a new distraction .
Neutral framed oil paintings lined the walls around them, encased in exquisite moulding contrasting against the dark cherry wood floor, and brass chandeliers above.
If Ryder had forbidden his feet to take him to Violet, which would have been the better decision, and instead stopped to read the signed art, he didn’t doubt the marvelous masterpieces would be renowned artist. But there was something intriguing about the way this woman looked at him, like she wanted to look at him, and the battle in her eyes made him want to dig deeper into what made Violet
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