MAXWELL’S POV
"His prize?" I repeated, stepping further into the room. Feeling Andrea stiffen beside me as her hand tightened around my forearm prompted an immediate defense. "She isn't a trophy, Edward. She is my fiancée."
"Semantics," Edward waved his hand dismissively, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Andrea. Leaning forward to rest his chin on the silver head of his cane, he issued a command. "Come closer, my dear. Let me get a look at the face that launched a thousand tweets."
Disliking the way he looked at her was an understatement. Instead of the way a grandfather looks at a future granddaughter-in-law, it resembled the way a horse trader looks at a mare at auction while checking for good teeth and strong legs.
"Go on," I whispered to Andrea, even though every instinct was screa
