Covet: Trusting the Billionaire (The Trophy Wife Book 4) by Charlotte Rose Page A

Julian.
    Daniel begins asking me question after question: where I grew up, where I went to University, where Julian and I met, where we went on our honeymoon. Daniel listens attentively as I answer each of his questions.
    I glance around and spot Julian chatting with a couple in their fifties. I turn my focus back to Daniel. I ask several questions to learn more about him. He tells me that he supports numerous charitable organizations in Switzerland and is a board of directors member for a few major charities.
    The waiter comes by several times during our conversation; each time we replace our empty flutes with new ones. I’ve lost track of how many flutes of champagne I’ve had, but I’m finally having fun at this party.
    My eyes gravitate toward Daniel’s shiny, extravagant wristwatch. “I like your watch,” I comment.
    “Thank you. It’s a titanium Patek Philippe skeleton watch. It’s a one-of-a-kind treasure, as I know you are.”
    Is he flirting with me?
    I glance at Julian. He seems to be too busy socializing to even notice what I’m up to.
    Daniel takes my left wrist gently and looks down at it. “A diamond watch would look good on your wrist. Why don’t you have one?”
    “I don’t wear a watch as often as I used to; my son likes to fiddle with it too much and tries to take it off my wrist.” I smile and gaze into Daniel’s mesmerizing green eyes.
    I freeze when I realize that he is still holding my wrist. He trails his hand slowly and seductively up the length of my arm.
    “You are so very beautiful,” Daniel whispers.
    I pout my lips as we both stare into each other’s eyes. I feel so drawn to him, to the point of being hypnotized. As he wets his sculpted lips, my gaze is directed there.
    I’m startled when I feel someone pull me back and away from Daniel. I smell him before I see him. Julian’s musky, spicy, manly scent fills my nostrils.
    Julian lunges forward, delivering a punch to Daniel’s nose. Daniel groans as blood gushes from his nose and down his lip and chin.
    “Keep your fucking hands off my wife,” Julian hisses. “You’re the idiot who sent all those letters and messages to my wife?”
    “What letters?” Daniel asks, surprised.
    “What’s wrong with you?” I yell as I grab Julian’s arm and try to pull him back. I lose my footing, stumble back clumsily, and nearly topple to the floor. Julian turns around just in time to grab my arm. I see malevolence blazing in his eyes.
    He turns back toward Daniel, who is raising his head and pinning his nose with one hand to stop the bleeding.
    “If you touch my wife one more time, I will kill you,” Julian hisses. “Stay the fuck away, I’m warning you.”
    Daniel appears surprised and embarrassed.
    “Oh, and you’re out of the deal,” Julian snarls.
    Julian intertwines his hands with mine and leads me through the crowd of people, who appear amused by the show we put on for them. We walk toward an elegant, sophisticated lounge area with rectangular black couches and cube-shaped black tables with red electric candles. Julian doesn’t seem to care that we’ve made a scene in front of everyone he knows.
    He leads me to one of the black couches. “Sit,” he orders, his eyes feral and primal.
    He sits beside me, waves over a waiter, and orders a bottle of water.
    Julian doesn’t look at me; he simply studies the crowd of people, who have resumed their socializing and drinking as though nothing had happened.
    The waiter comes back and hands Julian a bottle of water. He takes the water, retrieves a hangover pill from the inside pocket of his suit, and hands it to me.
    “Take the pill,” he instructs, finally making direct eye contact with me. “Now we know who sent the letters. If he comes near you or tries to contact you, you need to let me know right away.”
    I nod and swallow the hangover pill.
    “Did you flirt with him at all?” Julian’s voice is laced with possessiveness as he scrutinizes me. 
    “I don’t