FAYE
He caught my wrist before I could take another step.
The sudden pull startled me enough that the pillow nearly slipped from my grasp. I turned sharply, ready to snap again, but Alexander’s hand was firm around my arm—not rough, just unyielding. His eyes were no longer distracted or amused by whatever had been happening on his phone. They were fully on me now.
“What’s your problem?” he asked, his voice low, controlled, but edged with confusion.
I lifted my chin instinctively, refusing to let him see the flicker of embarrassment creeping up my spine. “I know you were probably having a good moment on the phone,” I said evenly. “I didn’t want to distract you.”
His brows pulled together for half a second.
Then something shifted in his expression.
“That was Irene.”
The words hit me
