Chapter 14: One Key

The bridal suite had one bed.

It was a huge white bed, with rose petals on the duvet and a bottle of champagne sweating in a bucket.

Tobias looked at it, then at me.

"I'll take the sofa," he said.

"The sofa's six feet long. You're six-two."

"Then I'll take the floor."

"Fine."

He took off his jacket and hung it on a chair, and I stood at the window with my wedding dress still on.

The city was lit up below me, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Three hundred people had watched me do it.

I had won, and I felt like I had been dropped from a roof.

"Linnea."

"I'm fine."

"You aren't." He stood behind me, not touching. "You haven't breathed properly in an hour."

"He called it my fault, in front of everyone. He said he did it all for us."

"I know."

"I want to stop thinking about him."

"Tell me what to do."

I turned around.

He stood there in his white shirt, with the sleeves pushed up and his tie loose, and his gray-blue eyes were dark.

He wasn't looking at the dress.

He was looking at my face, and he wanted me so plainly that I forgot how to talk.

"You said, no sex," he said, very quietly. "I signed it. I mean it. If I do this wrong, you'll never trust me again."

"Tobias."

"Yes."

"The terms are on a legal pad in Marcy's kitchen."

"That's a poor argument."

"I know."

I put my hands on his shirt, and I pulled his mouth down to mine.

He made a low sound against my lips.

His hands came up and held my face, slow and careful, and then I bit his lower lip and the care went out of him.

He kissed me hard.

He backed me into the window glass, and it was cold against my shoulder blades and he was hot all down the front of me.

"Zipper," I said.

His fingers found it.

He drew it down my spine one tooth at a time, and I shivered, and the dress fell off my hips and pooled around my feet.

I stood in a bra and a pair of plain white underwear that Marcy had bought me in a three-pack.

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