...She arrived at the door to the room she’d always remember—but now for all the wrong reasons. With a deep breath, she debated her options. Perhaps she ought to turn the other cheek. If she had the ring, the car, the house, and financial security, did it matter if Snow-bunny Barbie had Dick occasionally? On the other hand, the attractive black man she’d urged to do her investigating had a point. She deserved undivided attention—in and out of bed.

Okay, so she’d confront Dick. If she knew him well—and she did—he’d be recording the event, and he’d be too preoccupied with fucking at certain angles for the camera to notice she’d entered. Perhaps she’d spy for an opportune moment, when she could drop her clothes and steal back her man. Better yet, maybe she’d steal the woman and let Dick wallow in unfinished business across the room. She shuddered at that possibility. He’d enjoy it too much.

Never again. Ethan was gone, and that part of her had died along with him.

She put an ear to the door, but heard only muffled sounds. Christ, Bianca, just open the damn door. You know what you’re going to find. May as well find it already. An orchestra of oohs, ohs, and sexual yeses grew in crescendo as she opened the door.

When she sneaked through the suite—past the headless bearskin rug—and peeked into the bedroom, a graphic display of woman on top—backward—greeted her. His favorite position. With eyes closed, Snow-bunny threw her head back and bit her lip. Her small, round breasts jiggled with each thrust. Dick’s white-knuckled grip on her ass was sure to leave a mark, but none as permanent as the video-recording now in progress.

The room began to spin, but Bianca gripped the wall, gained her composure, and swallowed tears. She’d cry later. Alone. But she wouldn’t give either of them the satisfaction now. With shaky legs and a deep breath, she approached the tripod, assumed a position behind it, and cleared her throat.

Dick opened his eyes and horrific surprise crept into them when he saw her.

“Give me a little less bravado, Snow-bunny.” Much to Bianca’s surprise, she’d managed to speak clearly, without tremor. “We both know he’s not that good.”

After a startled dive for the duvet, her fiancé’s companion secured a white-blonde lock with an emerald clip, and rewarded Bianca with a sly smile.

“Hey, princess.” Dick grinned and raked shaking fingers through his disheveled hair.