Free Young, Allyson - Absolute Perfection [Aspire 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Allyson Young Page A

of the memories.
    She carefully picked up the picture and focused on the couple frozen in time within its frame. Her breath caught in her chest. Georgios’s handsome face looked back at her, solemn and forbidding somehow, but it was the tall, slender woman in the tight, sheath style wedding gown who took her attention. It was like looking in a mirror. The hair was hers, all different shades of blonde, worn long and swept back to drift behind the bride’s shoulders. The blue eyes might be set a little wider apart than her own, but the short nose over the full upper lip and the heavier bottom one was hers. The smile was cool and composed, and Iris didn’t suppose she often looked like that, but who knew? Put her in that dress and add the pearl necklace and drop earrings and a person would never really tell the difference. So this was Georgios’s deceased wife Jane, and he’d found her replacement.
    Iris’s stomach roiled, and she thought she might vomit. A cold sweat broke out over her entire body, and she began to tremble in shock. How could he? Did he think she’d never find out? That someone wouldn’t tell her? She reached out to grasp the rolled edge of the piano for support but missed, and her hand crashed down upon the keys, creating a discordant sound that echoed her thoughts. She couldn’t catch a full breath.
    “Iris?”
    She turned to face Georgios who’d probably come in response to the sound. He wore a casual cotton shirt in sage green, loose over his jeans, his feet bare. He held a spatula in his hand. Iris had the wild thought he would spank her with it when he divined her thoughts, and a bolt of pain through her heart made her gasp and then throw back her shoulders in a hollow act of defiance.
    “I see I’m a dead ringer for your wife. Oh, forgive my terminology. That was callous of me.” The venomous words spilled from her lips in an effort to stave off the horrific sense of betrayal, and worse, loss.
    She had the momentary satisfaction of seeing his face pale, and then he was coming to her. She retreated until the piano stopped her backward motion. Georgios pried the picture frame from her grasp, his gentle actions belying the look on his face.
    “Come and talk with me, sweet one.”
    She shoved at him and used the surprising action to slip around his big body and walk quickly to the front door.
    “Iris. You need to listen to me.” Georgios’s tone expected obedience.
    She laughed, and the ugly sound ripped at her throat. He flinched, and she threw out a hand, gesturing toward the picture. “I doubt there’s anything you can say to explain that , Georgios. It’s been quite the experience, but I’m not a stand in. I want the real thing, not the leavings of a ghost. You lied to me! You just wanted her back!”
    “I didn’t lie to you, Iris,” he gritted.
    “You did. Maybe by omission, but you did. And those people in the club, that Casey, they all knew. The way they looked at me! And I thought it was because I was yours. Well, I guess I was, Jane reborn.” She heard her voice climbing into hysteria and struggled against it.
    “I won’t tolerate—”
    She cut him off. “Leave me alone, Georgios. Alone.”
    She sobbed, and he tossed the spatula and the picture onto the piano and stalked toward her, his face bleak but determined. She was desperate. She couldn’t let him touch her or she’d be lost. She screamed it at him. “Chocolate! Chocolate!”
    It sounded insane, but he halted in his tracks and looked astonished. She threw the door open and winced at the sound of the alarm before running through the opening and down the steps, out onto the driveway. She stumbled toward the street, the tears blurring her vision when his hard hand closed around her upper arm and hauled her back.
    “Don’t be foolish, Iris. If you won’t listen, well, I won’t let you come to harm.”
    He nearly dragged her back toward the house, ignoring her protests and her ineffectual slaps and shoves. He