Amelia felt breath on her bare shoulder, and opened her eyes. She looked behind her with her heart pounding in her chest, but saw no one. She turned back towards the mirror, and she jumped in fright when she saw Byron behind her, as she had been that night.

“This isn’t real.”

Byron stepped into her space and trailed her fingers down Amelia’s back, making goosebumps break out all over her body.

“Mia cara, you are simply stunning. Why do you wish me to zip you into your dress, when I want to see you out of it.”

Amelia couldn’t believe what she was seeing, but that was exactly what Byron had said that night.

It can’t be real, it can’t be real, she repeated to herself but then began to groan as Byron kissed her shoulder and neck.

“Oh God. You’re not real.”

She grasped her neck when the burning hot, needy pain returned to her injury. She closed her eyes tightly, and tried to make sense of the urges inside of her. It was pain, but at the same time not. Her sex ached and her nipples hardened and all she could think about was Byron, and her deep need to give herself to her, like they were connected.

“Amelia? Are you okay?” Daisy’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

When she opened her eyes, the image of Byron was gone, and Daisy was there instead. She tried to calm her body and catch her breath.

“I’m sorry, Daisy I was just thinking.”

Daisy zipped up her dress for her and smiled. “Thinking about Byron?”

“How did you know?”

Daisy took her hand. “It’s your first date since your relationship ended. You’ve got to be thinking about what you’re leaving behind.”

But had she left her behind? All the time she was getting ready she had this feeling of betraying Byron, which was ridiculous. Byron had left her, broken her heart. She was sure Byron had not given her a second thought over the past six months, as she slept her way around Europe.

The thought of Byron sleeping with someone else killed her, but she couldn’t live this way for the rest of her life.

“Maybe this is too soon,” Amelia said.

Daisy took her hands. “Listen, you are just going for dinner—you’re not going to marry this Victorija. She saved your life yesterday. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re just getting yourself back out there. Forget bloody Byron.”

Amelia laughed at Daisy’s turn of phrase. “You’re right. It’s just dinner. Is my hair okay?”

Daisy took the brush and hairspray, and walked all around Amelia making the final adjustments to her hair. “There’s only one person I feel sorry for,” Daisy said.