Betsy padded quietly down the long hall of Roman’s house, her silk robe brushing against her thighs. She hadn’t been able to sleep. Not with everything swirling in her mind—the looks between Lorraine and Roman, the subtle pull of something she couldn’t put her finger on.
Then she froze.
A muffled sound drifted through the air.
Lorraine’s voice. Soft, breaking, moaning.
Betsy’s lips parted, disbelief etched into every line of her face. She moved closer, pressing her ear near the heavy door of Roman’s room. The noises were unmistakable now—Lorraine’s gasp, the low rumble of Roman’s voice, deep and rough, calling her name.
“Raine…”
Betsy’s stomach twisted, a sharp spear of jealousy cutting straight through her. Her nails bit into the edge of her robe as she clenched her fists. That shou
