Page 165 of Perfect Satisfaction

He wraps his arms around my waist. “Damn right I do. You.”

That’s how I ended up being late to my hair and makeup appointment.

I know I look good tonight, no damn spectacular. The way Arek’s pupils encapsulated the jade of his eyes told me that.Then what’s causing my heart to flutter?Arek looks dangerously elegant in black tie. Even as he’s laser focused on me, I’m equally enraptured by him.

With a tiny sigh, I finally admit the truth to myself.I’ll never fall out of love with the man seated across from me. It’s irrevocable. Eternal. I won’t recover, no matter what happens. There are just some bonds that can’t be broken.My heart weeps in despair knowing the end will come.

This time, for good.

Is this how my mother felt?

The limousine pulls to the end of the red carpet. I reach for the door handle, but he lays a hand on mine. “Wait. I’ll escort you.”

Before I can protest, Arek’s out of the car. When I emerge to the blinding pop of flashes, I reach for his hand to steady myself beneath my voluminous skirt.

And almost fall flat on my face.

Because as I clutch his fingers, I can feel a wide metal band on the third finger of his left hand.

He tucks my hand in the crook of his right arm before leading me up the red carpet, past all the paparazzi. When we present our tickets, he runs his thumb along my jaw. “Trust me. Tonight, can you do that?”

I part my lips to answer, but I hear my name being called before I can respond. “I have to go.”

“Sula.” Just my name, but in it I hear his plea. His pain.

“Yes,” I whisper. Then before I can appreciate the surprise that flickers across his handsome face, I’m dragged away by Jenna Madison O’Roarke.

It’s time to focus on the task at hand. Having the broken pieces of my heart mended isn’t why I’m here tonight. Raising funds to help rape victims is.

“It’s going well,” I state and toast Jenna. “Thank you for doing this. Thank you for believing in this. Just thank you.”

“You know it’s not just my pleasure but my honor.”

Mingling around the room in dresses not revealed during Fashion Week, thirty-three of the world’s biggest names in modeling pose for photos with New York’s elite—celebrities, athletes, actors, and media. “This has just as large impact on me as well.”

Jenna’s about to respond when she mutters, “Uh-oh, incoming.”

Since my back is to the party, I can’t see who’s approaching. “Please tell me it’s not the press.”

“No. Go. Now. Take off. I’ll cover for you.” Jenna’s face transforms from exultant to furious.

I lift the glass of club soda to my lips and murmur, “If it’s Arek, it’s okay. We’ve changed, Jen. I love him.”

I hear a feminine cough behind my right shoulder. “Umm, excuse me. Ursula? May I have a word?”

Jenna shakes her head, denying the request even before I can. Her face turns to stone when Dani approaches us from the side and answers over her. “Yes, and call her Sula.”

I lift the skirts of my ballgown and turn to find Liza Hina standing in front of me. Over her shoulder, Arek’s heading toward me—her? He has a half-smile on his face and is holding a glass of champagne in each hand. Then, he stops short when he takes in the scene before him. His eyes bug out comically.

He—foolishly, many would say—gave up a hundred and fifty million dollars because he accepted who you were and that was before you admitted the truth. He’s accepted your brothers even if he doesn’t know who the second one is. What does it say about you if you can’t forgive him for his liaison during the time you were apart? What is there to get over, other than I’m simply jealous at the idea he didn’t love me enough at the time to come after me? He followed me to London. He knows me—this me.

He loves me.

I know he’s not the same man my father was. Then what do I need to accept? That he was lonely, hurt? Separated from his wife?

Do I love him enough to forgive him?

I hold out my hand and say, “Ursula Moore. I’m on the board for Send Me an Angel and program manager for tonight’s event.”