slid his hands into his pockets. The move caused his biceps to flex again, and she imagined wrapping her hands around them as he made slow, sweet love to her. “I see. You muscle—muscle—must,” she spit out. “You must have a strong immune system.” Bumbling fool.
“I guess so. You and your fiancé seem happy together.”
The odd timing of his words took her by surprise. “Thank you.” She shifted away from him before he saw the uncertainty in her eyes and stared out into the darkness. Were she and Cyrus a doting couple? Was that what people saw when they looked at them—happiness?
Roth leaned in slightly. “Are you happy?”
Alarmed by the question, Tressa snapped, “Yes. Why would you ask that?” Then she regretted the sharp bite in her tone.
Roth pulled one hand from his pocket and flashed a palm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just...” He shrugged. “It’s just that most women seem over the moon when they’re about to walk down the aisle.”
Was he suggesting she wasn’t over the moon? She was plenty over the damn moon. “Yeah, well, I’m not most women.”
“Oh, I definitely know this.”
A glint of something flashed in his demanding brown eyes and it smoothed her ruffled feathers. Again, their gazes held for a long, quiet, intense moment. Were these probing glances power plays between them, or was it that when they looked at each other, they simply became lost in each other’s souls? There was something soothing about the way Roth looked at her, a look that could polish rough edges.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your fresh air. Congratulations again on your engagement. Good night.”
Tressa’s brow furrowed. “Wait.” The word came too urgently. “You’re not leaving, are you? The party, I mean.” Why did the possibility bother her so much?
“Shortly. I promised two of your aunts dances, and I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Then I need to get on the road before it gets too late.”
Yeah, her aunts—and several other of her female family members—had grown quite fond of Roth. Alonso, too. But Vivian had intervened on that one, crushing all of their dreams about her man. “On the road?”
“I have a cabin in Silver Point. The mountains,” he clarified. “About four hours away.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“It’s not that. I just took you for more of a city dweller.”
“I love being in the mountains. No one near for miles. Absolute peace and quiet. I can go on my deck and play my sax as early or as late as I want without disturbing a soul.” His brow furrowed. “That reminds me. I don’t think I locked my vehicle.” Obviously, he noticed Tressa’s where-did-that-come-from expression. “Juliette’s in there—my saxophone.”
“You call your saxophone Juliette?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Tressa recalled the first and last time she’d watched him play his sax. It was the most alluring thing she’d ever witnessed. He’d made absolute love to the instrument. The way he’d held it, caressed it, wrapped his lips around it... Her cheeks heated just thinking about him playing her like a saxophone.
What is wrong with you? You are about to be a married woman. Her mother would be so disappointed in her for lusting over one man while engaged to another. She massaged the side of her neck. “So, the mountains?”
Roth continued, “Mountain air is great for clearing the mind and rejuvenating the soul.”
Sounded like her kind of place. “You sound like a travel brochure. I’ve never been to the mountains.” The declaration sounded as if she was trolling for an invite. She kicked herself.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Well, anytime you and your husband want to get away, let me know. You’re more than welcome to use my place. It’s not much, but it’s cozy and intimate. The perfect escape for a couple in love.”
A couple in love. Boy, he was laying it on thick. Tressa returned her attention to the darkness.
“Tressa, are you sure—”
Whipping toward him, she said, “Yes, I’m sure I want to marry Cyrus. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“I...was actually going to ask you if you were sure standing in this cold was a good idea.”
She eyed Roth dumbly, her level of embarrassment soaring to unprecedented heights. “Oh.” Compassion danced in Roth’s eyes as he scrutinized her. No doubt he saw right through her. How was that possible?
Standing dangerously close to her, he said, “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m a great listener.”
“Thank you, but I’m—”
“Fine,” he said, completing her sentence for the second time tonight.
“You’re getting pretty good at finishing my thoughts.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a sexy smirk. “If I thought that had been a compliment, I would say thank you.”
He was getting pretty good at reading her, too, because it had been a cynical remark. When she attempted to remove his coat to return it, he stopped her.
“Just leave it with the hostess when you’re done. She’ll make sure I get it. Good night, Tressa. Enjoy the rest of your party.”
“Enjoy the mountains.”
When Roth disappeared through the doors, she tightened his coat around her, inhaling his delicious scent. Had Roth’s intrusion really been her sign? She laughed at herself. No. Tilting her head again, she said, “God, if you send me a sign, please make it a pronounced one. I don’t want to miss it.”
Twenty minutes later Tressa found herself on the dance floor with her soon-to-be husband. With her thoughts still stuck on her encounter with Roth, she barely processed Cyrus’s presence.
“Should it bother me that my fiancée smells like another man’s cologne?”
This snagged her attention. Reeling back, she stared into Cyrus’s probing green eyes. “Excuse me?”
“You smell like him.”
Playing coy, she said, “Him, who?”
Cyrus’s features hardened and deep lines etched into his caramel-toned forehead. “You know what him I’m referring to. Don’t try to play me for a fool.” His expression softened. “I love you, Tressa. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I need to know.”
She searched his sad eyes. “Need to know what, Cyrus?”
“I need to know... I need to know if you’re sleeping with him.”
Tressa froze, stunned by Cyrus’s question. Her lips parted, but nothing readily escaped. Why in the world had Cyrus asked her that?
“I see the way he looks at you. Hell, he’s been staring at you all night. Every damn move you make. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you to him.”
Cyrus’s words broke her heart. At that moment she realized how unfair she’d been to him. Cradling his smooth face between her hands, she said, “I would never hurt you like that, Cyrus. You’re the man I’m marrying, remember?”
A smile curled his lips and he eased his forehead against hers. “I love you, baby. I love you so much.” His expression turned somber and he rested his hands on either side of her neck. “I’ve made mistakes, Tressa. But I swear I’m going to be a good husband to you.”
Mistakes. What mistakes