But then Scarlett’s eyes caught something on her phone—a message Carter had sent without her knowledge.
Her blood ran cold. The haze of passion dissipated in an instant. Scarlett shot up from the bed, her voice sharp and laced with fury. “You’d better hope my husband didn’t see this, or I’ll make sure you regret it!”
She stormed out of the room, ignoring Carter’s desperate pleas to stay. Her heels clattered loudly against the stairs as she rushed down, nearly twisting her ankle in her frantic pace.
But the fear of what awaited her if I had seen that message far outweighed the pain. Terrifying thoughts raced through her mind. “Did Henry see the message? Did he go to Room 302?” The consequences were too awful to imagine.
When Scarlett finally pushed open the restaurant door and saw me sitting calmly at the table, she exhaled a long breath of relief.
She threw herself into my arms, gasping for air. “Honey… you didn’t see the message I sent, right?”
I smiled, shaking my head. “My phone died earlier. What message? Was it important?”
Relief flooded her features. Her voice turned syrupy sweet, like honey dripping from a comb. “It’s nothing. Just having you by my side is all that matters.”