My Fiancé Loved My Sister

That doting warmth vanished in an instant. He turned me toward him, panic all over his face.

"Baby, who upset you? Tell me. I'll destroy him."

Watching him fret like that, my heart clenched hard.

The Clay in front of me and the cold-blooded man on the phone were nothing alike.

All these years, he really had kept me cradled in his hands.

One little frown from me, and he'd spend half the day coaxing it away.

I'd offhandedly say a piece of jewelry was pretty, and he'd burn a fortune at auction for one useless stone.

When I couldn't sleep and my nerves frayed, he brought the city's top psychiatrists into our home, all of it just to treat me.

Everyone said Clay loved me down to his bones.

I'd once pinched his chin and warned him.

"Clay, if you're going to love me, you'll stay this crazy about me for life. One degree less, and I don't want you."

Back then he'd bent down and kissed me, his eyes devout.

"Don't worry. If I ever wrong you, I'll swallow ten thousand silver needles."

The vow was still in my ears. But that ruin five years from now told me the truth. People change.

I dragged out a bitter smile and pointed at the coat he'd draped over the chair, at the lace peeking out of the pocket.

"What's that?"

It was a woman's underwear, extremely revealing, barely any fabric to it.

I was certain it wasn't mine.

A flicker of alarm crossed Clay's eyes, then he covered it smoothly.

"Baby, where'd you pick that up? I didn't even notice it."

He looked blank, then slapped his forehead with exaggerated force.

"Look at my memory! You scared me half to death. I thought something had actually happened to you."

"That's a surprise gift I bought for you. I proposed tonight, we get the license tomorrow, so shouldn't we celebrate properly? I was picturing you in it, the two of us…"

He came at me smiling to pinch my cheek, and I knocked his hand away.

Seeing me stare at him, saying nothing, his eyes reddened at once.

Clay had the wounded act down cold.

"Baby, you don't actually think this belongs to some other woman, do you? We've been together this long. You don't know what kind of man I am? If I ever betrayed you, may lightning strike me dead."

Spitting out his vicious oath, he bent to kiss me, his breath scalding.

"Baby, you're a poison in my blood. I'd die without you."

I turned my face aside and pressed a hand to his chest, refusing him.

"You don't have to explain. I believe you."

At those words the shadow drained from Clay's eyes. He ruffled my hair, doting, didn't push for more, and got up to go make my lunch for tomorrow, the home-cooked meal packed with love.

I stepped out and watched his back as he worked under the light, wrapped in that pink apron.

My feelings were a tangle.

I'd asked him once why a Gilbert heir from New York's elite circle cooked with his own hands.

He'd laughed then, warm and a little silly.

"Odette, your stomach's bad. I don't trust restaurant food. Even a three-Michelin-star chef couldn't do it better than me."

He was so attentive. So gentle.

But I remembered what I'd said. This love, one degree less, and I don't want it.

At one in the morning, Clay washed his hands, came back to the bedroom, and gently nudged me awake.

"Baby, wake up. After work tomorrow, I'll come with you to try on the wedding dress."

My breath caught hard, and in that instant the me from five years later was echoing through my head, warning me again and again.

Whatever you do, don't go try on the wedding dress!

But Clay noticed nothing off about me. He just went on, smiling to himself.

"Oh, and I put your parents' gifts in the car already. We'll swing by and grab Maud too. Hasn't she been going on about wanting to try on a bridesmaid dress? Perfect, she can come along."

I lowered my lashes, hiding the chill in my eyes, and gave a small nod.