The Ice Queen's Secret Superstar Husband

Katy's body reacted before her brain could process the danger.

She shoved both hands against the hard muscle of Arther's chest and pushed herself backward. She broke his grip on her waist and stumbled a step away.

She locked her knees to stop them from shaking. She forced her spine completely straight.

Arther let his hand fall. He slid both hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers. His movements were slow, relaxed, and entirely too confident.

Katy stared at his chin, refusing to meet his eyes. She dug her thumbnail into her index finger.

"My apologies," Katy said. Her voice was perfectly flat, a textbook Hollywood PR response.

Arther tilted his head slightly to the left. His dark eyes dropped from her eyes down to her blood-red lips. He stared at her mouth for one second too long before looking back up.

"It's fine," Arther said. His voice was low, a physical rumble in the quiet hallway. "Miss Riddle."

The formal name felt like a knife twisting in her stomach. Katy swallowed the lump in her throat. She forced the corners of her mouth up into a fake, polite smile.

Footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway. Two stagehands carrying a ladder turned the corner, walking toward them.

Panic spiked in Katy's chest. She immediately shifted her weight, leaning closer to the wall, creating a massive physical gap between her and her husband.

Arther watched her move away. A dark shadow crossed his eyes.

He took a half-step backward, giving her the center of the hallway. It was a perfectly polite, gentlemanly gesture for the approaching crew members to see.

Katy gave him a stiff nod of gratitude. She took a step forward, desperate to run away.

As she walked past him, the physical distance between them vanished for a fraction of a second.

Arther leaned down. His mouth brushed past her ear.

"The black velvet looks beautiful on you," he whispered.

Katy's feet stopped moving. Heat exploded across her ear and rushed down her neck. Her brain scrambled, desperately searching for a safe response.

She turned her head. She looked him in the eye, her expression completely blank.

"Thank you," Katy said loudly, ensuring the stagehands could hear. "Your performance on stage was very impressive."

Arther raised an eyebrow. He looked bored by her robotic answer.

He took one step forward, instantly destroying the safe distance she had created. He lowered his voice so only she could hear.

"Miss Riddle, you seem to always be avoiding me," Arther said softly, his tone perfectly polite but layered with a probing edge. "Have I done something to offend you?"

Katy's eyes went wide. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

"I am avoiding a scandal," Katy snapped back, her voice shaking slightly. "I don't need the paparazzi writing fake stories."

Arther let out a low, dark laugh. The sound vibrated against Katy's skin.

He stared down at her. His eyes were intense, stripping away all her defenses.

"Is that right?" Arther said softly. "I could have sworn I heard Mr. Vance joking earlier that the way you were looking at me was... rather unique."

The blood drained from Katy's face. Her fingertips went completely numb. The hallway spun.

Did he know? Did he find the Twitter account? Did he see her looking at him?

She dug her nails into her palms to stop her hands from shaking. She forced a cold, mocking laugh out of her throat.

"You are incredibly arrogant," Katy sneered.

Arther didn't flinch. He just looked at her. The intensity in his gaze was suffocating.

The stagehands walked past them, muttering apologies for taking up space. The spell broke.

Arther's face instantly shifted back to the cold, untouchable Best Actor. He gave the crew a polite nod. He turned his back on Katy and walked down the hallway.

Katy stood frozen. She watched his broad shoulders disappear around the corner.

Her legs gave out. She leaned heavily against the wall. She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling her heart trying to beat its way out of her ribcage.

He was just joking. He had to be joking.

Katy smoothed down the velvet skirt. She locked her jaw and walked back toward the ballroom.

She sat down at the VIP table. She picked up a fresh glass of champagne. Her hand shook so violently the liquid spilled over the rim and dripped onto her fingers.

She didn't know that in the shadows of the hallway corner, Arther was still standing there. He watched her walk away, a dark, victorious smile spreading across his face.