Purchased Husband (Trophy Husbands #4) - Noelle Adams Page 0,54

in different ways.”

“Oh. Yeah. You mentioned something about that the first time we met.” Those weird flutters in my belly have intensified. They’re starting to nauseate me.

“I guess we did. We were so afraid he would do the same thing to you, which is why we were so relieved that you were already engaged. But I feel kind of stupid about the whole thing now. Pop has changed. I really think he wouldn’t have done that to you, so it wouldn’t have mattered if you had Damian or not.”

Melissa is obviously trying to be kind. Genuine. Bond with me. I appreciate it. Appreciate her. But that rumble deep inside is starting to overwhelm me.

For a moment I can’t breathe. I take a ragged breath and stiffen my back. “Y-yeah. Yeah. That’s good.”

She peers at me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry. I think I better run to the bathroom. Too much to drink.”

“Oh. Sure. I’ll check up on you later.” She touches my forearm lightly in a little gesture of friendship and then gets up as I do. “Maybe you can rescue poor Damian when you head back there.”

I don’t rescue Damian. I’m afraid to talk to him at the moment. I hurry through the ballroom, maneuvering around clusters of mingling guests until I reach the doors on the side.

I stride down the hall, passing the restroom since I don’t actually need to use it. I just need to get away for a minute so I can think. Breathe.

To my relief, I spot a small conference room that’s not being used. It’s empty. I turn on the lights, close the door, and collapse against it, gasping like I’ve run a marathon.

I’m not even sure what’s the matter with me right now, but I’ve broken out in a cold sweat and my chest is pounding painfully.

When there’s a light tap on the door, I jerk away from it with a choked cry.

“Clarke? Are you all right?” It’s Damian’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere even though it’s currently muffled by the door.

I try to answer but can’t get my voice to work.

“Baby? I’m coming in.”

The door swings open.

He’s looking as good as he did last night but wearing a different suit today. He’s so handsome and sexy and suave that I suddenly have no idea what I’m even doing with the man.

I don’t belong with him. I never did.

My throat rasps as I try to suck in air.

His face twists in concern. He closes the door and strides over to me. “Baby, what’s the matter? Talk to me.”

I try. I really do. I can’t get any words out. I can barely breathe.

After an urgent scan of my face, he puts an arm around me and strokes my hair back. “Okay, baby. It looks like you’re having a panic attack. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Breathe shallow. Short, shallow breaths.”

I’m bending over at the waist. The only thing holding me up is his arm around me. My vision is clouding over.

“Baby, no. No, no, no. Do what I say. Listen to my voice. Short, shallow breaths. Like this.” He puffs out air, and I manage to follow his lead. “That’s right. Just like that. You’re going to be all right.”

I lean over and breathe quick and shallow until my eyes start to clear. It really feels like the only things holding me together are his strong arm and soothing voice. There are tears streaming down my face and my nose is running when I’m finally able to straighten up. “I’m okay now.”

Damian doesn’t let me go. He tightens his arm and pulls me against him.

I shake and sniff against his chest, vaguely wondering if this is going to be a habit. If I’m always going to fall apart and hope he’s there to help.

I never used to be like this before.

“I’ve gotten your nice suit all snotty,” I say at last, pulling away.

He lets out a dry huff. “It’ll survive.” His blue-green eyes are sharp and observant.

He’s waiting for an explanation, so I need to give him one.

“I...” I clear my throat and wipe my eyes. “I don’t really know what happened.” There’s a chair close to me, and it’s like a lifeline, so I take it.

Damian drags another chair away from the wall and sets it near mine so he can sit too. “Fair enough. Just do the best you can to figure it out. Was it the same thing as last night?”

Part of me doesn’t want to talk. Resents

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