The Wife He Loves to Hate
"Don't let it go to your head!"
"Too late," Liam whispered teasingly, his warm fingers casually reaching down to slide into mine, locking our hands together in front of Anna. "It's already there."
Anna smirked knowingly, raising her champagne glass toward us.
And as I stood there in the backstage lounge, flustered, embarrassed, and completely flushed under my husband's intense, undivided gaze, I realized there was no escaping it anymore.
He had me—completely, utterly, and undeniably.
***