Chapter 120

Hannah

I couldn't help the rumble in my stomach as the lavish buffet's aromas wafted through the ballroom. Plate after plate of gourmet delicacies caught my eye—tender meats glistening under a sweet glaze, buttery pastries dusted with powdered sugar, vibrant displays of exotic fruits. I chewed my lip, my gaze wandering over the spread as my eating disorder battled with logic.

One voice whispered that this dress clung too snugly. One more bite, and I might burst. That I was a fat pig undeserving of food, despite my prominent hip bones.

But the other voice, the logical one, countered that a bite or two wouldn't hurt. I'd worked hard and deserved a treat. Everyone deserved food, and I was no exception. That I was beautiful and deserved to be healthy, for myself and my baby.

When a tray of fresh bread and cheeses passed, I couldn't resist. I was starving. Quietly excusing myself from Noah, I headed to the buffet. I carefully selected a few items—chocolate-dipped strawberries, a watercress sandwich, a jam tart. Safer choices, but still tempting.

As I eyed the cheesecake, movement caught my attention. Across the room, Zoe watched me with an inscrutable expression, her eyes glittering above her wine glass. I froze, a prickle running down my neck as her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. It felt malicious, predatory, like a cat toying with a mouse.

Her gaze lingered before she turned and walked away, leaving me wondering if I'd imagined the dark look. Surely I had—Zoe likely encouraged my eating habits. But the moment dulled my appetite. Unease overwhelmed my hunger. I set down my plate untouched.

"Not hungry?"

Noah's voice startled me. He frowned at my untouched plate.

"Oh! Um…" I waved dismissively, avoiding his gaze. "I'm feeling a bit off. Changed my mind. Do you want my plate?"

Unconvinced, Noah arched an eyebrow, his arms crossed, radiating disbelief and annoyance. I winced. He knew I was lying, but I couldn't tell him that seeing his ex had inexplicably killed my appetite. He'd think I was even crazier.

"You need to eat," he stated.

Before I could protest, he picked up my plate and practically shoved it into my hands. His cologne clouded my senses, weakening my knees.

"I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. Take at least one bite," he ordered, his voice low. "Or I'll have to force-feed you."

A shiver ran through me. I looked away, unable to speak. Noah's eyes narrowed, studying my face. My cheeks flushed as arousal stirred, making me shift my weight. Why did he have to say things like that?

"Fine."

With a sigh, I took a chocolate-covered strawberry. Noah watched me chew and swallow. It was delicious—rich chocolate and perfectly ripe strawberry. The approval in his eyes made my toes curl.

"Good girl," he murmured, taking a strawberry. His lips slowly parted around the fruit.

His words made my belly clench. Heat flooded my core. This wasn't the time or place, but my body didn't care. I needed to escape.

"Excuse me," I managed, shoving the plate back into his hands. I spun and hurried away before he saw my reaction.

I kept my eyes forward, half-running to the nearest hallway. The heavy doors groaned as I pushed through, finding myself in a dimly lit corridor. I needed air.

Leaning against the cool stone wall, I closed my eyes, willing the throbbing between my legs to subside. This was ridiculous. He'd called me "good girl" in the same tone he used behind closed doors. That shouldn't have been enough to make me lose control. But it had.

After a few deep breaths, I shook my head. Get a grip, I thought, pushing away from the wall and heading back to the party. Just play it cool and—

Before I could finish the thought, a figure blocked my path. A black suit, crimson tie, and green eyes stared from behind dark hair. Noah smirked, pressing his palm against the wall behind me.

"You're embarrassed," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I can tell by the redness in your cheeks."