Chapter 10
I found myself obeying.
In the darkness, my senses sharpened. Citrus mixed with cedar suddenly drew near as River’s voice brushed my ear: “Hold out your hand.”
Cool silk slipped into my palm. When I opened my eyes, gradient blue fabric rippled under the light like moonlit waves, scattered with silver threads.
“Hand–dyed Italian silk. Only three pieces left in the world.”
His fingers skimmed the fabric’s edge.
“Think you’re brave enough to use this for your Fashion Week opening look?”
“What if I screw it up…”
“Don’t worry. If you crash, we’ll crash together.”
He suddenly gripped my trembling wrist, warmth seeping through the fabric.
“Chloe, you need to trust that your wings can create storms.”
The night before Fashion Week, I got tangled in lace backstage.
The dressing room door opened as River leaned against the frame, whistling:
“Need a knight to rescue the damsel?”
“Your knight complex is misplaced.”
I blushed, struggling with hair caught in fabric, but he pressed my wrist down.
“Don’t move.”
Silver scissors appeared from nowhere, cool blade grazing my neck: “Relax, I used to alter my mom’s dresses all the
time.”
As hair fell around us, his breath touched my nape.
The overhead light flickered, shadows dancing as the mirror reflected our nearly touching figures.
River unconsciously wound my loose strands around his finger until the countdown began outside.
“Showtime.”
He stepped back, pocketing the scissors, becoming the composed River again.
21:01
Just a Stand In?! My Billionaire Hubby’s OTHER Wife
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Chapter 10
“Remember, tonight’s applause is for birds who broke free.”
After the show, I watched River schmooze in the rain through the backstage window, his suit like a perfect mask. When crowds dispersed, he suddenly loosened his tie and ran into the rain, extending his hand:
“Come on, I want to show you something.”
The black Maybach cut through darkness, stopping at ocean cliffs.
River magically produced a cage from the trunk containing a dozen white doves.
“Now for the real ‘Caged Birds‘ finale.”
He opened the cage door, moonlight catching silver on wings.
“Want to do the honors, Ms. Walsh?”
I trembled touching dove feathers, their wing beats vibrating through my palms.
As the last dove flew, River suddenly embraced me from behind, his soaked suit against my thin back: “Feel like they’re flying for you.”
His burning lips brushed my earlobe before pulling away:
“Sorry, I think I lost my head.”
I grabbed his retreating hand and kissed his lips.
Salty wind mixed with citrus on our tongues. He froze, then cupped my head, deepening the kiss until wave sounds swallowed our breathing.
21:01
