Broken Heart. Laura Browning

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      In the week since leaving the wedding, Mason had retreated to his office no less than three times to avoid dealing with Stacey. His assistant could handle her. Left to him, he’d tell her to find another gallery, but his clientele and hers overlapped to such an extent it was impossible. And truth be told, he often had to recommend her, because she was a damn good interior decorator.

      He’d just made the absolute dumbass move of getting involved. What had started out as incendiary sex had morphed into something more for him. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Stacey. While he had found a vibrantly passionate woman beneath the buttoned-down blueblood exterior, when push came to shove, she’d fallen right in line with whatever life plan had been laid out for her from birth on. The right man with the right pedigree had produced a ring, popped the question and she had accepted.

      God knew, when it came to pedigrees, Mason Hatch was nothing more than a mongrel who’d been rescued, bathed and groomed. He might not be on the streets anymore, but it was where his roots were.

      And right now, seeing her bring in Justin Worthington to look over their inventory had nearly sent him straight back to the hard-talking, hard-hitting years of his youth. Mason wanted nothing more than to pound his fist in Justin’s golden good looks. A glance at his watch told him he couldn’t hide out any longer. He had a lunch meeting with an artist whose work could be an asset to the gallery based on what he’d seen. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late. His gaze narrowed on the proprietary hand Justin placed at the base of Stacey’s back, as if he’d already moved in on those marriage vows she’d tried to tell Mason she held so sacred. His stomach turned in disgust. Apparently putting hands on Stacey was permissible if the family tree dated back to seventeenth-century America.

      Whatever. Mason couldn’t accurately trace his family history to more than a barely remembered mother. He’d always suspected the name Hatch was an invention of some smartass social worker to imply something about his origins.

      Stacey glanced over from the painting she was showing Justin as Mason stepped from the staircase into the front hall. He nodded to her, his gaze dropping for an instant to the hand Justin rested right at the top of her butt. It surprised him when she blushed.

      “Justin,” she said, drawing the other man’s attention. “This is Mason Hatch, the gallery owner.”

      It was all he could do to stifle the growl that instinctively rose to his lips, but he shook the other man’s hand. “I hope you’re finding everything you need?”

      “Yes, thank you, Hatch.” Justin’s tone set his nerves on edge, so similar to the one Stacey had used the first time she met him.

      Mason switched his narrowed gaze to Stacey. “How’s your husband, Stacey?”

      “Busy.” There was something in the shift of her eyes that made his nerves jangle. Not his business. Whatever problems she had, she’d chosen. He looked once more at the tall blond with her. “Nice to have met you, Worthington. Will you be here long?”

      “Permanently, I hope.”

      Mason smiled. “So is Stacey helping you decorate?” Maybe he was simply a client.

      Was Worthington’s smile a bit smug? “We’re not quite to the finishing touches, though she is making a few suggestions. My condo’s under renovation right now. Stacey and Jace have graciously allowed me to move in with them temporarily.”

      Mason’s glance flew back to Stacey. Now she did shift uneasily. “How…cozy.” Mason smirked–on purpose. He glanced at his watch. “I hope you’ll excuse me. I’m on my way out to a lunch meeting.”

      * * * *

      “You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?”

      Justin’s quietly worded question hit the silence following Mason’s departure as loudly as if he’d screamed it. Stacey stepped away from her husband’s friend, her hand fluttering to her throat. “Wh-what did you say?”

      Justin’s smiled widened, showing off the dimple in his cheek. “Hatch. You’ve had sex with him. He gives off the testosterone of one very possessive male.”

      Stacey clutched her purse in front of her. “I don’t think this is something open for discussion, Justin.”

      He shrugged. “Whatever. Jace has never been a very possessive man. I doubt it would bother him.”

      She felt like she had to provide some explanation. What if Justin said something? “We…went out a couple of times before Jace and I got engaged.”

      “It’s okay, Stacey.” His tone was reassuring. “I’m sorry. None of my business. It just seemed odd. The guy was throwing off real vibes like he was ready to mark his territory or something, like some common cur. “

      She СКАЧАТЬ