The moment I turned to leave, a hand closed around my wrist.
"Wait."
Jackson's throat bobbed. His gaze softened as he looked at me.
"Mrs. Stephens, you and her... you really do look alike."
That look in his eyes — so familiar, so full of tender longing.
As if he were staring right through me, seeing someone else. I knew exactly who he was seeing.
Do I look like her?
I offered a cool smile.
"There are plenty of people in this world who resemble each other. Call it fate, I suppose."
I glanced down at his hand, still wrapped around my wrist.
Jackson noticed too. He released me in a hurry, as if he'd been burned.
The gala certainly was lively tonight.
Jackson had barely finished talking to me when Millicent appeared, right on cue.
"Mrs. Stephens, I just saw you chatting with my husband. What exactly were you two doing?"
Her expression was guarded, her eyes sharp.
"I know Jackson has always been impressive — handsome, successful. Plenty of women out there have their eyes on him."
"You're Arthur Stephens' wife, Mrs. Stephens. I'd strongly suggest you don't get any ideas you shouldn't be having."
Oh, I was well aware.
When Jackson had grabbed my wrist in that moment of impulse just now —
She'd seen me.