The evening breeze on the terrace swept away the noise of the banquet hall, but it carried something else: voices, sharp and furious, from just around the corner.
"Weren't you the one who wanted to draw the line? So why do you care what I do?!"
Piers's voice was glacial. "You're carrying my child, and you have the nerve to parade around with another man?"
"So what? My boyfriend doesn't mind. He'll raise this baby as his own!"
"Over my dead body." Piers turned to go after the man, but stopped short when he spotted me standing in the shadows.
Something shifted behind his eyes. He glanced at Julie, then closed the distance between us in one stride and crushed his mouth against mine.
The kiss was brutal and cold. Revulsion rippled through me like an electric shock.
I fought to pull away, but his arm locked around my waist like a vise.
Humiliation crashed over me in waves. He was using me. Using me as a prop to provoke Julie.
Right on cue, a choked sob rose behind him. Emboldened, Piers pressed harder, yanking down my dress strap and shoving his hand beneath the fabric.
"Let go of me!" I snarled, but he only tightened his grip.
Then came the sound of approaching chaos.