Chapter 27

 27:
His throat tightened, and he involuntarily licked his suddenly dry lips, his voice dropping to a low, almost hoarse tone.
“There are plenty of ways to celebrate. You don’t have to drink.”
His words came from a place of concern, but more than that, there was a gut instinct telling him that if she drank any more, the night could take a turn he wasn’t sure he was ready for.
Linsey, however, shook her head stubbornly, her laughter soft but firm.
“No way. This wine cost a fortune! We can’t just waste it.”
She pouted slightly, her lips forming an adorable frown, ready to argue more, but then her eyes widened in a drunken haze.
She raised a slender finger and pointed at Collin, swaying slightly.
“Hey, why are there two of you?”
Collin, resisting the urge to correct her, merely reached to take her glass away.
“My glass! Give it back!” Linsey protested loudly, standing up and trying to snatch it from his hands.
But the moment she tried to stand, her legs betrayed her, and she stumbled straight into Collin’s arms with a surprised gasp.
Instinctively, he tightened his hold on her to steady her, his hands firmly gripping her waist.
Before he could say anything, he felt the soft pressure of her hand against his thigh.
“Collin, what’s in your pants?” Her voice was a dazed whisper, her eyes hazy as she tried to look down.
Collin’s heart skipped a beat, and a wave of discomfort rippled through him, his face hardening. What the hell was happening?
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“Don’t touch me,” Collin warned, his voice low and tense. He grabbed Linsey by the collar and yanked her back into another chair.
In the process, her arm knocked against the wine glass in front of him. The glass tipped over, and dark red wine spilled across his pristine white shirt, the stain spreading like ink on paper.
Linsey sat back, blinking at him, still dazed.
Collin inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he fought to maintain his composure—and suppress the heat stirring inside him. Turning to the side stiffly, he added,
“Stay seated. Don’t come any closer.”
The cold liquid seeped through his shirt, chilling his skin, though it did little to cool the fire burning within him.
Linsey suddenly pouted, her tone turning sharp.
“What do you mean? You won’t even let me near you? Is that really how you treat your wife?”
Her righteous indignation left him momentarily speechless.
“We’re married. Why should I stay away from you?” she continued, her eyelids growing heavier.
“Your shirt is soaked in wine. You can’t clean it yourself. Let me bathe you.”
Ignoring the fact that they were still in the dining room, she reached out, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt as she attempted to remove it.
“Don’t move!” he snapped, catching her wrist in a firm grip.
He was ready to scold her when he noticed the slight crease in her brow, her expression shifting with discomfort.
“Collin… you’re hurting me,” she murmured softly.
At her words, his grip instinctively loosened. The moment he let go, she twisted free and, without hesitation, grabbed his collar with unexpected force.
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