The darkening clouds cast a foreboding mood over an already bleak day. Quickening my steps, I hoped to reach my car before the heavens opened up, but the sky rumbled and growled and then released its torrent and rain poured down on inner city Boston. I lifted my purse over my head, blocking only a fraction of the waterfall that flowed over me as I ran across the street and darted into a boutique. I was still two blocks away from my car, so this temporary shelter was my only chance of avoiding the downpour.
In barely a minute, my clothes had been completely drenched and my bouncy, carefully styled hair was now a stringy, dripping mop of black. I smothered the urge to scream at how fucked the entire day had been. I’d overslept, nearly had an accident rushing to my 9 o’clock meeting, and had lost thirty additional minutes of my morning consoling my assistant Andrea. She and her boyfriend were having problems—again. To top it all off, I’d had to fire one of my top execs at Raine Publishing House.
And my day wasn’t getting any better.
Tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind my ear, I scanned the store, taking in the busy—and enviably dry—clientele as I shuffled my bags and made my way to the chair closest to the door. I heaved an exasperated sigh as I plopped in the seat and started searching through the baby toys, makeup, hand sanitizers and scraps of paper I carried in the large purse that Aiden referred to as my luggage.
After pulling pretty much everything from my purse, I finally found a hair accessory hidden in a far corner. In a frustrated rush, I tossed everything back into my bag, and pulled the wet heap into a ponytail. Feeling only slightly less frazzled, I looked out the window as the day became darker and wetter. Without an umbrella, I figured I’d wait it out until the rain lessened, but Mother Nature showed no signs of relenting.
But my phone chimed, a reminder of my thirty-minute window to pick up Dianna, my son’s nanny, from the hospital. So much for waiting it out—I had to leave now. I glanced a bit enviously at the boutique’s patrons, and then noticed an umbrella in the holder near the door. For a brief moment, I considered grabbing it, but why should someone else suffer for my disregard of today’s weather report? I took a deep breath, took a firm hold on my bags, and made a dash for the parking lot.
I was almost there—I could clearly see the car, even through the thick veil of water that had turned the early afternoon as dark as dusk. Without breaking my stride, I reached into the side pocket of my purse and pulled out my keys, only to have them fall from my fingers and land in a puddle a few steps from the car.
“Shit!” What else could go wrong? This had been a day from hell.
As I reached for the keys, one of my shopping bags fell into the puddle right along with the key ring. I wanted to scream to the heavens, but that wouldn’t help a damn bit. I’d only end up wetter and angrier. I fumbled around in the muddy puddle until my fingers grazed something. I grabbed it, then threw it down in disgust—just a dirty twig. A few aggravating seconds later, I’d somehow managed to find my keys. Relieved I was moments away from being seated in the comfort of the amazing wedding gift from my husband, I pressed the button on the key ring and reached for the door handle. Still locked. I tried a second time, and then a third, but it didn’t work.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
How could a car that cost more than a small mansion have a defective key fob? Had it shorted from its immersion in the muddy puddle? That seemed unlikely, but with the day I’d had, it was par for the course. Cursing, I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. After locating the app that unlocked my car, I tossed the bags in the passenger seat and rushed to close the door, anxious to shut myself off from the weather that seemed to be in just as bad a mood as I was.
*****
Once Dianna was settled in one of the guest rooms, I wanted nothing more than to shed my damp clothing along with the remnants of the wet and miserable day before soaking in a hot, bubbling bath. Before that though, a visit to one of my favorite rooms was in order. Maybe it was Aiden’s and my love of wine, or maybe it was simply another excess, but the house had three spectacular wine cellars. Unique hand-carved designs accentuated the shelves that held a thousand bottles of the finest wines. At the center of each cellar, was an illuminated section that housed the Aria Wines.
After making a selection I had yet to try, I grabbed one of the stemless glasses and strolled back toward my bedroom. I couldn’t help but think of how lonely the house felt with both my guys gone. I stopped by the empty nursery and wandered about the large quiet space, wondering what Lyric and Aiden were doing. Grabbing one of my son’s toys, I left the room and headed for my long-awaited relief from the day’s woes.
*****
I shivered as I stepped out of the water onto the cool marble floor. Partially drying myself, I dropped the towel and hurriedly slid into my thick terrycloth robe. July was typically one of the warmest months in Boston, so I didn’t understand why I was so cold, even after my bath. Since I couldn’t get warm, I decided to start a fire. Grabbing mom’s quilt, I cozied up in front of the fireplace. A short time later, I was lost in the dancing flames, caught up in the twisting blue and white tendrils as they whirled around the small pyramid of logs.
I was fully aware of why the day had toyed so mercilessly with my patience. It was because he was gone. It was because I’d awakened to a day that didn’t include him, and as a result, it felt like part of me was missing. A part I needed to feel complete—to feel whole.
Glancing at the five-carat diamond ring on my left hand, I delved into the memories of my fairytale—Aiden’s proposal under the stars, the beautiful vows, the wedding and our honeymoon in Italy. Aside from the nerves and a slight case of cold feet, it had all been perfect, even surreal. In fact, even now, after having experienced every moment of it, it was almost inconceivable.
I was married to Aiden Raine.
Most of the wedding guests left Italy for their homes in various parts of the world, while a few had kept the celebration going on the four-day cruise, which was intended as somewhat of an extended reception. Aiden and I had spent two blissful weeks in Italy. We’d wanted to stay longer, but fourteen days was about all the time either of us could stand to be without Lyric. After the honeymoon, we’d spent the first week at home reconnecting with our son. Lyric had never been away from both of us before for any length of time, and when we returned, he was as happy to see us as we were to see him. Everything seemed right with the world.
Our whimsical fairytale in Italy had been an oasis of blissful serenity, the most content I’d felt since before Aiden proposed—in contrast to now, where life was slightly crazed. Our lives had skipped into fast motion as soon as we stepped from the jet. And things hadn’t slowed since. Aiden and I tried to steal small moments of normal each day—time with our son, an occasional date night, or just holding each other in bed. It didn’t seem to be enough.
But then again, if I had every minute of every day with him, it still wouldn’t be enough.
“There you are,” came the distinctive voice that always placed a smile on my face and a song in my heart. He was finally home. Before I could turn, Aiden was standing in front of me.
My gaze traveled over him and then lingered on his beautiful face. “I’ve missed you.”
“Have you?” he asked.
Was he kidding? My heart leapt at just the sight of him—even when I was pissed at him, which was quite often. Merely thinking of Aiden had such a strange effect on me. My chest clenched, my throat went dry, and my heart thumped in a crazy, erratic pattern. And then when I looked at him—it was just that much worse—every part of me was hyper aroused. The intensity of my emotions for him was something I would never comprehend. I loved him with everything in me. And he was my husband. All mine—now until forever.
“Why do you always ask that? You know I have, so don’t start,” I said. “And where’s my baby?”
Aiden’s full sensual lips pulled into that lopsided grin that made me weak in the knees. “I’m standing right in front of you.”
Suppressing a smile, I said, “Very funny. Where’s Lyric?”
“The little guy was exhausted,” Aiden said, as he gently tugged me from the sofa. “He fell asleep on the way home.”
“I want to see him,” I said, starting to move past Aiden.
“Eh. I wouldn’t if I were you.”
“Why?” I asked, alarmed. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, but he’s cranky,” Aiden said, shaking his head. “For a while, I didn’t think he’d ever stop crying. Had it not been for the drive, I don’t think he would have.”
“And you’re sure he’s okay?”
“Yes, sweetheart. He just had a bad day,” he said, taking a seat on the couch. “Babies have those, too, you know.”
I let out a sigh. “As much as I’ve missed him, I think I’ll wait.”
“Smart choice,” Aiden said and pulled me into his lap. “How’s Dianna?”
“She’s resting. The appendectomy went as planned. Since the procedure was done laparoscopically, her recovery will be much faster. The doctor said she should return to normal activities in a few days with a lot of TLC.”
“We’ll make sure she has plenty of that,” Aiden said.
“I’m planning to work from home today and tomorrow, and Lyric will be going to work with me for a few days after.”
“I hate that I wasn’t here for her,” he said, his tone remorseful.
I ran my fingers over the slight stubble of his chiseled jawline. “She understood. I’m just glad one of us could be.”
“Thank you for that,” Aiden said.
“No need to thank me. Dianna is family and I love her.”
Aiden’s palm was on my jaw as he stared into my eyes, his thumb tracing my cheek. “It’s good to be home. With you—my wife.”
“Is it?” I asked.
“Indeed, it is. By the way, where’s my hug?”
“Underneath this robe,” I replied.
A wide grin broached his perfect lips as he reached for the tie at my waist. Freeing me of the terry cloth fabric, he lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bed. “God, I hate being away from you.”
*****
Upon arriving home from our honeymoon, I’d been tossed into the awaiting role of society wife. I’d attended fundraising events, weeded through board invitations for various charities, and endured crash courses from Aiden’s mother, Sienna, on what she termed “Raine etiquette.” I’d been given access to an astonishing amount of Raine assets. It was staggering. Labeling someone as rich and then seeing proof of just how rich were entirely different things. Having glimpsed only a sliver of the vast Raine fortune, I was even more impressed that Aiden was so down to earth. I loved that about him. He was real, and in certain situations—granted not many, because there had always been that something about him that was larger than life—he was as normal as a guy with an average income … and an average life.
Aiden Raine wasn’t an average guy, though. He had been born into a life that afforded him luxuries that most could only dream of. A life that guaranteed him an inconceivable position of power and prestige, which he used to his advantage when necessary. It was also a life burdened with the obligations that accompanied his family’s position in the socioeconomic hierarchy—a hierarchy that now included me.
Aiden astutely observed my reactions to each introduction to yet another facet of his life. The philanthropic efforts, government affiliations, foundation boards, public appearances, and countless other commitments—it was a great deal to take in, but I was convinced I could handle it, that it wouldn’t overwhelm me. And most importantly, I didn’t want to give Aiden cause for worry. I’d be fine—I just needed a period of adjustment.
*****
Standing over the kitchen island, my elbows rested on the counter as I massaged my temples, trying to persuade the headache to leave and go bother someone else.
“So your head’s still hurting?” Aiden asked, catching me by surprise as he stepped into the kitchen.
“Yes, but not much.”
“That’s three days, Aria,” he warned.
“I know. I know. But it’s better,” I assured him.
Aiden moved behind me and caressed my shoulders. “You have some serious knots. Why is that?” He very well knew the cause, just as he knew I didn’t want to admit it. “Are you planning to answer my question?”
“No,” I replied.
“Call someone,” he said, and walked out of the kitchen.
I knew what that meant. For days, he’d been chiding me for not hiring someone to help me out, but I’d refused. If I didn’t go along with his demand, he would soon take the decision out of my hands and do it his way. Damn. He frustrated the hell out of me. He was like an impatient child. If someone didn’t give him what he wanted, he just pushed until he got it.
As much as I tried to appear as though I had the Mrs. Aiden Raine thing under control, I didn’t, and I was quickly coming apart at the seams. And since Aiden had been watching me—like a freaking hawk—he knew I’d overcommitted myself and he didn’t like it. He’d started with a casual suggestion that I hire someone to help make things easier for me. Each day, his suggestion sounded more and more like an expectation, so thanks to his not-so-gentle prodding, I’d already met with Tristan Roberts for the positions of my publicist and personal assistant. He’d come highly recommended from Aiden’s publicist Benjamin. Not sure why Aiden and I didn’t both use, Benjamin; it all seemed too excessive, but oh well. I hadn’t offered Tristan a position yet, but I had his name locked and loaded for the next time Aiden pushed too hard in that direction.
As I was placing the last of Lyric’s food in the refrigerator, Aiden strolled back into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and poured some water and then stepped toward me with an open hand.
“Take these.”
He always looked out for me. Even when he knew I didn’t want him to. I reluctantly took the aspirin and then returned to the dishes. “Thank you,” I said.
“Come. Lie down with me.”
“I can’t right now,” I said. “I have too much to do.”
“It can wait.”
“Aiden, stop. I need to finish this, start the laundry, clean Lyric’s bathroom and start a grocery list … unless you want to starve.”
He looked at me and let out an impatient sigh. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
He was agitated, which meant it would be a lot easier to appease him than to continue with my own agenda. “Fine, but only for a little while.”
“Whatever you say,” he replied as he grasped my hand and tugged me behind him. Several minutes later, I was lying on Aiden’s chest as he toyed with my hair. “Is your headache gone?” he asked.
“For the most part,” I said.
“You can’t continue at this pace. You need someone to help you.”
“No, I can do it.”
“I don’t doubt that, but it’s not reasonable.”
“I can take care of my family, Aiden.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not disputing that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“The same thing I’ve always had to hammer in your head, you need time to enjoy your family.”
“I do that. Very much.”
“You’re stressing over things you shouldn’t,” he said.
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one failing.”
“Is that what you think? It’s impossible for you to fail at anything. Wait, I take that back. The only thing you’ve failed to do is listen.”
“I guess,” I said.
He kissed my hair. “Do you know how proud I am of you?”
“No.”
“Well, I am. This isn’t easy and you could have bowed out by now. Instead, you’re up extra early, going to bed late, running yourself ragged. It’s unnecessary.”
“You make it look so easy,” I said.
“I’ve been at this all my life. It’s the only frequency I know.”
I didn’t want to admit it aloud, but the realization that I couldn’t do it all on my own hit me hard. I wanted to be the dutiful wife and mother. I wanted to cook dinners and keep a clean house—things Mom used to do, but that was impossible with a house as large as ours and with schedules as full as ours. I actually did need the help, which is where Tristan would come in. I really liked him and since it was obvious I’d run out of stall tactics—and energy—I’d be reaching out to him … but not just yet.
My fingers trailed along Aiden’s chest as I took in his words. The more I watched him manage the demands on his time, the more I wondered how he ever kept it all straight, but then again, I had no idea of the amount of delegating his lifestyle required. He’d never really told me that much. He grasped my hand and toyed with my fingers, intertwining them with his.
“Why are you so quiet?” he asked.
“Just considering everything I need to keep straight,” I said.
He kissed my hair again. “You can do it. As soon as you stop being stubborn, you’ll have an entire team at your disposal,” he said, and then he fell silent.
“Why are you quiet now?” I asked.
“Can you believe we’re married?”
“Sometimes, yes. Most times, absolutely not.”
“Same here,” he said. “Do you still like your ring?”
“Of course,” I said, as we both stared at our linked fingers. “It’s beautiful.”
“Come here, you,” he said, pulling my body over his.
“Sweetie, I’m tired.”
He stared at me in shock. “But you’re never too tired for me.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” I said, and rolled over to the other side of the bed. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Okay, that’s it.”
“What?”
He grabbed his phone and tapped a message.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Something I should have done long ago. Getting help for you.”
“So now you take it upon yourself to get involved.”
“I was already involved, but I was hoping I wouldn’t have to make this decision for you.”
I sat up in bed. “But because I’m too tired for sex, you’ve changed your mind?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s because you’re not yourself. And because I already know who you were planning to hire—Benjamin filled me in. I’ve checked him out, and he’s a solid choice.”
Why wasn’t I surprised? I didn’t have the energy to pitch a fit and, quite frankly, I was secretly relieved. I’d been so pre-occupied with getting it all right that I was going to bed exhausted every night. Today had been the record low, though—too tired to have sex with the only man I could never get enough of.
After a response to Aiden’s text, we were lying in bed again. I was content—my head resting on his chest as I traced my fingertips along the taut skin of his abs.
“How was the ballet?” I asked.
“I’m always amazed at Allie’s giftedness,” Aiden said of his sister. “She’s a natural. It was great. She was pretty bummed you weren’t there.”
“I know. I spoke with her afterwards,” I said. “But she understood one of us needed to be here for Dianna. Was Lyric a good boy?”
“For me, yes. As for my assistant Brooklyn—I think he tested her patience,” Aiden said. “His personality is starting to reveal itself more and more.”
“Yes, it is. And I can see the Aiden temperament in him,” I said, shaking my head.
“Like that’s a bad thing,” Aiden said.
“I think one of Tristan’s first assignments will be starting a search for another nanny. I understand better now why you had two.”
“And here you thought it was because I was too much to handle.”
“Oh, I still think that. But not in Lyric’s case,” I said. “He’s the most perfect baby ever.”
“He is, huh?”
“Of course. But we may be a tad bit biased.”
“Yeah, just a tad.”
Not soon after Aiden and I settled in for the night, the shuffling and intermittent cries drifting from the baby monitor captured our attention. Hoping Lyric would settle back into a quiet sleep, we lay silently wrapped in a warm embrace. And when the sounds finally muted, Aiden kissed my forehead and said goodnight. Seconds later, the ear-piercing cries flying from the monitor had us both flipping back the sheets and hopping out of bed.
Reaching Lyric’s nursery, we found him standing in the crib, his chubby fingers curved over the thick wooden edge of his bed, and crying at the top of his lungs.
“Was he like this all evening?” I asked Aiden as I lifted the baby to my shoulder.
“Off and on,” Aiden said.
Fifteen minutes and a new headache later, Lyric was still fussy. Aiden had been right. My little guy was Mr. Cranky Pants. No matter what I did, he wouldn’t stop crying. We thought maybe he had a tummy ache. Aiden checked him out as well as he could, but he wasn’t concerned that anything was truly wrong. Just a cranky baby.
“Maybe I should take him for a drive,” Aiden suggested. “It seemed to work a few hours ago.”
“I’ll take him, or maybe we both can go.”
“No. You get some rest,” Aiden said. “Your day was just as bad as his.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”
“Yeah. It’s more father-son time. I’ll never get enough of this guy,” Aiden said, taking Lyric from my arms.
“Well, okay. But if you need back-up, you know where to find me,” I said, turning to leave Aiden alone with his mini-him. Hopping back in bed, I slid beneath the covers. Sleep pulled me under in next to no time.
The next morning, I awoke to find both Aiden and Lyric asleep in the kitchen—Aiden at the table and Lyric in his booster seat.
*****
After only a few days, I saw the benefits of having hired Tristan. And never had I been more thankful for assistance. He worked with Andrea to coordinate my schedule, and we had meetings every other day. He was even working with Sienna and me on birthday plans for Lyric. It was almost incomprehensible that my little guy was turning one in a little over a month.
I was enjoying passing some things off to Tristan. It allowed me to avoid the almost daily contact with Aiden’s mother. Yes, she was still hard at it—trying to pull me over to her side of things. As if that would ever happen. But we were still getting along and it was feeling more and more like a family I wanted to be a part of.
As for my personal life, it seemed I needed staff for everyday things that I didn’t have the time to do. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Aiden was accustomed to having butlers and maids, but I wanted my privacy and I wanted to do things on my own—something I was finally learning was impossible. When I’d told Aiden I’d decided to add to the staff, he was very pleased, while I on the other hand saw it as something else I couldn’t get a handle on.
“Tristan’s already narrowed down the list,” I said, frowning at my tablet.
“Good. And don’t think of this as a failure.”
“I don’t. It’s just a little disheartening that I can’t be the wife and mother I want to be.”
“But you are,” he said. “You know that. Cooking and cleaning don’t make you any less in either area. You’re delegating, which is something I’ve had to do for as long as I can remember. Otherwise, I’d have no life at all.”