This Is Love Read online Natasha Madison (This is #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: This Is Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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“A white wine would be lovely,” she says, smiling, and then I look at Juliette as she continues to talk about their kids, and when I look back, I see that Scott has also walked out of the ballroom. I don’t know what it is, but the minute she turned around, I felt her whole body go tense, and I saw her hands shake just a touch. I don’t even think she knew she was shaking.

“Excuse me,” I tell Juliette. “I’m going to go find Vivienne.”

She just smiles at me, and I walk out of the ballroom, seeing guests lingering everywhere. I walk to the side and see a small hallway, and I’m not sure what I expect to find, but my heart races so fast it sounds like roaring in my ears. I get close enough to hear her voice. “Don’t call me that ever again, and don’t fucking touch me.”

I get to the doorway, and she is standing there with her back to the fire. Scott is in front of her, and he has his hands on her arms, on her bare arms. “Mon amour, please.”

The minute he calls her that, I see black. “I’m going to give you less than a second to get your fucking hands off her before I put you through a wall,” I say, my voice staying low. Vivienne’s eyes come to mine, and I see her with tears in her eyes. Scott turns around and sees me, his hands slipping off her arms.

“Mark, it isn’t what it seems,” he says, and I put my hands in my pockets instead of going to him and grabbing him by his jacket and putting him through a wall.

“I know one thing,” I tell him, walking into the room. “She told you not to touch her.”

“It’s a private conversation,” he says, and I laugh.

“How is this for private? If I see you touching her again, after I finish putting you through that wall, I’ll make sure I break every fucking bone in your body?” I tell him when we stand toe-to-toe. Except he’s smaller than I am, so I look down. “Now it’s safe to say our business relationship is also terminated.” He nods at me, then turns to look at Vivienne one last time before he walks away. “Oh, and Scott, don’t cross me. I would love nothing more than to bury you, and we both know I have the means to do it.”

I watch him walk out of the room and turn back to look at Vivienne, my beautiful Vivienne. “Mark,” she says my name softly, and I look down. I knew today we would either continue or it would have to end. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t stand not going home with her. I couldn’t stand not waking with her, it was just too much, and I was over it. She either was with me or she wasn’t. I just never thought that it would come to this right here. She steps forward and puts her hand on my arm, and I just look down at it, the hand that I want to hold for the rest of my life.

“Um …” I start, then I stop talking because there is so much that I need to say, there is so much that I want to say, but my heart is beating so fast, and my hands are trembling. “I think we should go.”

Her hand falls off mine, and I look at her. She puts her shoulders back. “Perhaps I’m the one who should go.”

“Vivienne,” I say. “I don’t want to do this here.”

She nods at me and walks ahead of me down the stairs, and I follow her. She walks over to grab her shawl and then comes to me. “I think it’s easier if I just grab a cab.”

“You can do that,” I tell her, and she nods and tries to walk away. “Either way, I’ll show up at your house.” She stops walking and turns around. “I’m not doing this here in front of everyone.” I look around to make sure that no one is paying attention to us. “Now the car should be out front.”

She nods and walks out, and our car is there waiting like I told him to. The driver gets out of the car and opens the back door, and she steps in, and I walk around. I sit next to her, but she glues herself to the side of the car, and when we pull up, I get out and walk in with her. Neither of us saying anything.

The whole ride up in the elevator, I hold my tongue to wait for when it’s just the two of us. She unlocks the door and walks down the hallway to the living room. She puts her shawl and her purse on the table and takes out the tequila, drinking a shot and then another. “It was in this room ten years ago that I broke up with him,” she says the words without looking at me, and then she takes another shot.


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