“Almost halfway down the aisle, she saw someone she wasn't expecting, and she almost stumbled on her satin heels.Kingsley Martin stood at the end of a pew, his arms crossed. He was wearing a tuxedo as well. Just like any other guest. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Paris! He was supposed to be gone!He looked directly at Mimi.She heard his voice loud and clear in her head. Leave him.Why should I? What do you promise me?Nothing. And everything. A life of danger and adventure. A chance to beyourself. Leave him. Come with me.”

“Why should I? What do you promise me?Nothing. And everything. A life of danger and adventure. A chance to be yourself. Leave him. Come with me.”

“He leaned over her, rested his head on her shoulder, and clung to her, his tears soaking into her shirt.What the fuck was she supposed to do with this? Hug him and say something comforting? He was blackmailing her and now she was supposed to take care of him like some kind of fucking nanny or something? She didn't know how to do that. What did people do to comfort each other?”

“And then she frowned, and shook her head, then put her arms around him once more, pressing her face into his shoulder, making a noise that sounded almost like rage.'What's up?' he asked.'Nothing. Oh, nothing. Just...' She looked up at him. 'I thought I'd finally got rid of you.''I don't think you can.' he said”

“Will it do?” he asked as he folded his arms over his chest.She turned to him. Her eyes grew shuttered and any sign of pleasure vanished from her face. “I suppose I can endure it.”As if he couldn’t tell she liked it.”

“Tristan followed so close behind her she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck. Again.“Ten foot rule,” called Nate. “Bite me!” Tristan hollered back, more hot breath caressing her skin with his words. A wonderful shiver ran through her body. Damn him and his beautiful mouth and hot breath and his leather-smelling shirt. She assumed he was headed to his own room in the basement, but when she walked into the guest bedroom, he followed her inside. She turned around to tell him to leave her alone, but his bright green eyes derailed her words. He was so pretty… No! No. He was not pretty. He was in danger of dying. Focus on the danger, Scarlet. She glared at him. “What are you doing?” “I’m sleeping with you.” Was he insane? She lifted a brow. “I thought you were mad at me.” “I’m concerned. Not mad.” “Huh. Well either way you’re not sleeping with me.” “Yes, I am.” He was insane. “No,” Scarlet repeated. “You’re not. You could die, Tristan. We can’t touch and we certainly can’t…sleep together.” She felt her face flush. A look of amusement crossed his face. “I meant sleep, Scar.” “Oh. Well.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t want to wake up next to a corpse, so, like…scram.”