Chapter 31

31

June

Whatever Irene told my husband has put him in a contemplative frame of mind. My husband —I gulp. He's really my husband . I roll the word around in my mind. It feels strange to call him that. And right now, his face in profile as he peruses his phone, combined with the hard edge to his jaw, he's never felt more remote to me.

My brother and sister were unable to attend, as they were in the middle of their university term, but they called and wished me.

After speaking with my husband, Irene came over to me and kissed me. Irene congratulated me and told me she was happy for me. It pained me that I couldn't tell her the entire truth behind how I came to be married to my boss, but Irene's all-knowing eyes told me she'd already guessed there was more to the story than I was letting on. She told me my husband had asked her to bring Jillian and Ethan over for a visit at their earliest convenience.

Then Knox and I signed the paperwork, officially making us husband and wife. Zoey broke out the champagne and poured us all a glass. I barely managed to take a sip but had to stop when my stomach lurched. Knox also passed on the Champagne. His excuse was that he'd be driving. Zoey looked crestfallen, but then perked up when Knox promised he'd be holding a wedding reception for us in a few weeks.

He looked at me as he said that, and the fact that he was including me in the plans he was making, made the wedding all too real. He promised to invite Zoey and Irene, my siblings and Edward to the reception. Then Edward took his leave, and Zoey and Irene followed suit.

When it was just the two of us, my husband said it was best we head over to Arthur's place and break the news to him. I wanted to change into the dress I'd been wearing when I arrived this morning, but he told me there was no time. Then he hustled me to the car.

Now, the silence fills the space between us. I lock my fingers together, and the adrenaline I've been coasting on all morning recedes, leaving me drained. I sink back against the buttery-soft leather of the Jaguar and sigh.

"Are you tired?" he asks without looking at me. Before I can muster the energy to answer, he slides open the door to a hidden compartment fitted below the rear seats. He pulls out a bottle of juice, twists open the cap and offers it to me.

I hesitate.

"Drink it," he orders. His bossy tone ignites a curl of heat in my belly.

I take the bottle from him and take a few sips. The orange juice is cool, and not too sweet. I take another sip and feel a spark of energy release in my veins.

"Drink it all," he insists.

Perhaps, I'm too tired not to obey. More likely, my body feels primed to obey his commands. I drain the rest, then cap it. When I look around, wondering where to place it, he takes it from me and fits it back into the hidden compartment. "Better?" He finally shoots me a glance.

I nod.

"This shouldn't take long. It's best to break the news to Arthur immediately. The element of surprise should, hopefully, help keep the fallout to a minimum."

Worry pinches my chest. "You think he'll be upset?'

"Probably not. As long as I get married—and it probably doesn't matter to whom—I'm assuming he'll be fine. "

"Thanks," I say wryly.

His lips twitch. "I'm not belittling our marriage, or you, for that matter."

"I understand." I clutch the small handbag Zoey passed to me before leaving. "Your grandfather can be daunting, is all."

"Didn't notice you felt that way the last time you let him into my office," he points out.

A small burst of pleasure replaces the worry. Was that pride I heard in his voice? Nah, not possible. He was simply being polite. Not exactly how I envisioned the first conversations between us as a married couple. But then, I didn't know what to expect anyway.

"With someone like your grandfather, it's best not to show weakness. If I had, he'd have walked rough-shod over me and pressed his advantage."

He seems surprised at my observation, then a gleam of interest filters into his eyes. "And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"Is that the route you take with me as well?" His eyes gleam. "Is that how you try to handle me? By pretending you're not overwhelmed by my personality?"

"Who says I'm overwhelmed by your charisma?"

"You admit noticing my charisma?" He smirks.

I toss my head. "I'm not going to admit to anything. That'd only inflate your already Texas-sized ego."

He chuckles. The sound catches at my nerve-endings. It's such a warm, masculine sound that I can't stop myself from shivering.

He frowns. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm?—"

He presses a button set into the door and talks into the intercom to the chauffeur. "Turn up the temperature on the heater and also the seat warmer."

He turns to me, "You'll feel more comfortable in no time."

"Thanks." I swallow, unused to this considerate side of him. It's such a sea-change from the man I first met in his office, I'm trying to reconcile the two.

"What?" He frowns.

"Nothing, I…" I shake my head. "You seem different, more relaxed. "

His forehead furrows. "It's only… Now that I'm not following Arthur's plan, I realize the extent to which I wasn't comfortable with it. I'm sorry I put you through that," he murmurs.

I stare.

"Why are you so surprised by my apology?" He knits his brows. "It's not the first time I've apologized, either."

"It's not, but I'm taken aback, all the same," I admit.

His eyes spark with anger at that. "Do you think I'm incapable of admitting when I make a mistake?"

I eye him warily. "Honestly? Yes."

He holds my gaze for a few seconds, then blows out a breath. "You're right, and I thank you for your candor."

"You're welcome," I murmur, surprised, again, that we're having such a normal conversation. It's as if getting married has changed something in him. He feels less like that unapproachable, angry, insisting-on-getting-his-way-all-the-time man. He seems more human. Or perhaps it's because I know him better.

"I realize, I can sometimes be an arse."

"Sometimes?" I say lightly.

"Most of the time," he concedes. "And I truly am sorry that I put both you and Priscilla through that sham of a non-engagement."

It's so uncharacteristic to hear him sounding anything less than completely confident of himself that I have to ask, "Why did you do it, then?"

He looks away for a long moment, and when he glances back at me, his gaze is hot. "I thought it was the best way to protect you."

"Protect me?" I bite the inside of my cheek. "From what?"

"From me," he responds.

"Sorry, you're not making any sense. I admit, you are unreasonable, and demanding, and pigheaded, not to mention, irrational and often bigoted, but you're not dangerous."

He looks at me with a weird look on his face. "That's what you think."

I half laugh. "What do you mean?"

"Based on our encounters, you're already aware I have certain proclivities. "

Heat flushes my cheeks, then I nod. "Not that I've been a part of any kink-related activity before you, uh…introduced me to primal play."

His gaze widens when I say that word, and his pupils dilate. Every muscle in his body goes on alert, and it's as if he's summoned that predatory part of himself to the fore in an instant.

"That encounter piqued my interest."

He inclines his head. "Did it now?" he asks in a low, dark voice.

My hindbrain sends out a warning signal, but I ignore it. I'm here and married to him. He chose me, not Priscilla. Not anyone else. Me. It gives me the courage to lean in closer, to fix my gaze on his mouth and say in a breathy tone, "Enough for me to read up on it."

He watches me with interest. "And what did you think?"

I swallow. "I admit, I was turned on by what I came across."

The pulse at the base of his neck kicks up, but there's no other change in expression. He closes the distance until his breath sears my cheek. My nipples tighten. Liquid heat pools between my thighs. My belly squeezes in on itself, and oh god, I'm so aroused, if he touches me anywhere on my body I'll probably combust. He rakes his gaze down my features, and I'm sure he's going to kiss me. Kiss me. He lowers his mouth close to mine, then he snaps his teeth.

I jump.

He chuckles.

Asshole.

He nods as if he's read my thoughts. "Don't try to entice The Beast, little July; you might bite off more than you can chew."

My neck heats. I'm so damn embarrassed. And I thought he was empathetic? Clearly, it was all an act. He pretended to confide in me, only to lull me into a false sense of safety. And then, he insulted me. Again.

I sidle away from him until I'm all but plastered against my door. "You're a jerk."

"And don't forget that."

The car pulls into the driveway and comes to a stop.

He pushes his door open and steps out.

I fumble around, trying to open mine, but he's there. He pulls my door open and holds out his hand. I ignore it, swing my feet out onto the ground, then stand up. He takes my arm and tugs me close, so I'm tucked into his side. Then, he guides me toward the door of the townhouse. As soon as we come to a stop, I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold. Not enough to hurt me, but just enough so I have no choice but to stand still, fuming.

"You'd better be on your best behavior, wife."

Like he has to remind me? I'm aware of how important this meeting with Arthur is to him. Also, the fact that he called me wife sends a thrill up my spine. Dammit. I shove it aside, focusing, instead, on how much I underestimated my new husband. How he could turn on the charm to get me to do what he wanted when really, he's nothing but a mean, surly, jerkosauraus at heart. And because I'm not going to let him think I'm yielding to his dominance… I set my jaw and tip up my chin. "And if I'm not?"

His gaze narrows, then he bends his knees and peers into my eyes. "I'm going to spank your arse so hard, you won't be able to sit without remembering the touch of my palm on your backside."

My knees turn to jelly, and it's a good thing he's holding me up.