for a decade. The devastation of the night before was locked away behind a mask

r third weddin

piece of toast. When she lo

er tomorrow," she said, her tone conversational. "It's

rdians. The gala was a non-negotiab

t washed over his features. He was still o

said quickly.

gift box on the chair beside her and slid it across the polished mah

gift," she said,

eyes. He reached out and took it, his fingers brushing against her

ers he had already signed. Her gift

over in his hands. He didn't open it. "A

ver her. "I don't feel well," she said, her voice a little hoarse.

eft without a b

ring at the gift box. He was abo

at the scre

refully cultivated panic. "Clark? They really did it. All my cards are de

Anabel evaporated, replaced by

instantly soothing. "I'll handle

gift box, then up the stairs in the direction Ana

oward the guest suite, the u

ar-streaked and beautiful, he handed her a platinum

the blue box. "What's that?" she aske

hide it behind his back. "It'

celebrating your anniversary? While my husba

fective. Clark was trapped, stammering a

change from a crack in her doorway. She had known this

ut hope. It was about ceremon