In the span of just a few seconds, a whirlwind of thoughts raced through Emily Blair’s mind. While she was still processing everything, Tristan Davis suddenly stood up beside her.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Emily blinked in surprise.
Without warning, Tristan’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and yanking her straight into his arms. His grip was firm and unyielding, locking her tightly against him.
Before Emily could even catch her breath, Tristan’s low, tense voice was right in her ear.
“Don’t you dare slander my wife.”
Emily froze, stunned.
Wife?
Who’s his wife?
Amelia Lane’s voice rose, incredulous. “Excuse me? Who are you? Emily Blair is your wife?”
Emily felt Tristan’s arm tighten around her waist, pressing her so close she was practically buried in his chest.
Tristan’s words were clipped, his tone icy. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s with me now. Why would she ever be interested in some other guy? I’m young, I’m in my prime—she’d have to be blind to leave me for some old man.”
Amelia bristled. “Old man? Who are you calling old?”
Tristan smirked. “Take your pick. Here’s a little advice: stop treating old men like they’re prize catches. I’m twenty-four, healthy, good-looking, full of energy. What do old guys have on me?”
Amelia was furious, unwilling to let anyone insult her brother. “And who the hell do you think you are? You think you can talk to me like that?”
Tristan shot back without missing a beat. “Of course I wouldn’t bark like a dog—but you, on the other hand, seem to have plenty of practice. You’re a natural, and it sounds just as unpleasant as I thought.”

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