Emilie Rose - Forbidden Passion

She walked down the short hall on shaky legs and into her husband’s office. She didn’t have to turn to know that Sawyer had followed. Her personal radar was keenly attuned to his presence just one stride behind.

He reached around her to lift a crystal picture frame from the desktop and his shoulder brushed hers. Her breath hitched and her skin prickled at the point of contact. “I’ve asked Opal to bring in some boxes. You’ll want to take Brett’s personal items home—including this.”

She took the picture from him and stared at the blond-haired and blue-eyed couple as if they were strangers instead of Brett and herself. Her eyes glowed and she smiled as if someone had just handed her the world on a platter. How long had it been since she’d felt even a fraction of that hope and happiness? But she’d believed in her marriage vows, and she’d tried to make the relationship work.

Why hadn’t she noticed before that the emotion captured in her husband’s eyes wasn’t love, but possessiveness? How stupid of her not to realize sooner that she’d been nothing but an accessory to Brett. He’d expected her to dress to suit his tastes, to maintain the perfect house and image, to be seen and not heard. But why her? His journal made it clear he hadn’t been motivated by love.

The warmth of Sawyer’s hand on her shoulder jerked her attention back to the concern and sadness in his eyes. Not for the first time she noted the difference between the two men. Brett’s eyes were pale blue and his hair sandy blond. Sawyer’s eyes were intensely deep blue, shades darker than Brett’s, and his hair was raven’s-wing black.

Right now he was frowning at her. “Are you all right? Would you like for me to have someone else handle the packing?”

“I can do it. I’m okay,” she lied, and stepped away, but her skin tingled where he’d touched, and the urge to lean on his broad shoulders nearly overpowered her.

Looking back on it now, she realized she hadn’t been okay since the second year of her marriage when her husband had started systematically eroding her self-confidence. He’d begun with suggesting she dye her hair a more attractive color and then he’d progressed to urging her to get breast implants and collagen in her lips. She’d refused the medical procedures but she’d experimented with hair colors. None had satisfied him, and she’d recently returned to her natural blond.

She’d wanted so desperately to have the family Brett had promised her before they married, wanted so very much to please him and to turn him back into the man who’d charmed her right out of her disappointment over the end of her relationship with Sawyer. She’d failed on all counts.

She shook off her depressing thoughts. “Could I have a few minutes alone?”

“Of course. I’ve spent some time in here myself.” The pain in Sawyer’s voice made her heart ache. She wanted to reach for him but didn’t. With obvious reluctance he backed toward the door. “My extension’s marked on the phone. Ring if you need anything.”

As soon as the door closed, Lynn lay the photo face-down on the desktop and stepped behind the polished surface. She rifled through the drawers, but she didn’t know what she was looking for. Additional bank accounts? Signs of Brett’s infidelity? A tap on the door made her jump guiltily. She closed the drawer. “Yes?”

Opal stepped inside with an armload of boxes, which she set in the visitor’s chair. “Would you like some help packing?”

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