I wasn’t crass enough to take her on the same honeymoon that I’d had planned for her sister. That would be taking shit too far. I borrowed my old man’s jet and headed in the opposite direction.

She was finally coming out of her shell by the time we landed on Corfu and I wish I could say I had it in me to give a damn about her feels, but I still hadn’t climbed down off my shit yet.

I didn’t want to take shit out on her so I was going easy, leaving her to herself. That’s why I didn’t fuck her until the second day.

It’s not like she was a stand-in for the basic bitch. By then I was pretty happy with the choice I’d made and her sweet shyness only sealed the deal.

I’m not used to that shit. In another time and place her sister would’ve been right up my alley. Well used and forgettable after a fuck or two. Thank fuck I never dipped my wick in that nasty shit.

But she wasn’t marriage material. I gave serious thought to capping their old man for trying to pull a fast one on me, but since I got her in the bargain, I let that shit slide.

Our first real conversation was ten kinds of fucked up. She was sitting out by the pool sipping on juice, the puritan, when I walked up on her.

I stood over the lounge, blocking the sun for a good two minutes before she got up enough nerve to look at me. “You okay?” She’d reacted like she didn’t know I could speak.

Her croaked ‘yes’ had been funny as hell. I was surprised that she wasn’t scared. After the shit I’d done to her, dragging her out of her childhood home, forcing her to marry me, and then bringing her here, I thought for sure she’d run screaming.

But once we got to talking, I realized that she wasn’t only sweet, but she was smart. And thank fuck she was a long way from her father and sister. In fact, even now it’s hard to believe that they’re part of the same family.

“I guess my father owes you a great deal.” Those were basically her first words to me. She’d said them so matter of fact that I’d been taken aback.

“What makes you say that?” I took the seat next to her and looked over at her. She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat and stared straight ahead.

“He never would’ve let you do all this otherwise.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice and I found myself wanting to comfort her. The fuck I know about that shit?

The only women I’ve ever been close to are my mother and sisters and they’re tougher than me. Still, as I sat there beside the beautiful garden pool I felt…something.

“Yes, I guess you can say he does. Look, I know you’re not at fault for any of this, but this is just the way this shit played out.”

“Is it real?”

“Is what real?” At first I thought she meant the diamond that my father had found from somewhere, and I don’t want to know where the fuck that is. Murdering fuck!

“The marriage, is it real or…”

“Oh it’s real alright and just so you know, in my family divorce is cause for murder.” I think I

actually saw an echo of a smile on her face then.

“And what do you want me to do?”

“What do you mean?” She has a weird fucking way of talking. That’s until you get her going and she climbs out of her shell, which I learned later.

“I mean do you expect…ahem. Do you expect me to sleep with you?”

“You’re my wife.” Enough said.

I’ve heard about women blushing, but like I said, the women in my life are tougher than me so I never really saw that shit up close and personal.

And the chicks I used to rock with don’t know the meaning of shy. This girl turned red all over from head to toe. If I didn’t already know that she was twenty-two I would’ve thought her younger.

She went back to staring at her drink and I dozed off in the sun. I’d told her sister that because of business we couldn’t go too far on our honeymoon, which was supposed to be in Miami. And there I was halfway around the damn world.

When I woke up she’d moved the umbrella over to shade me and for some reason I found that sweet. Not sweet enough to let her off the hook mind you,

but touching all the same.

It had been a while since I’d had a woman. Even though my arranged marriage wasn’t a love match by any stretch of the imagination, I take certain things seriously.

No way was I going to stand in front of a priest and take vows and fuck around with that shit. So by the time we got around to dinner that night I was ready to be a husband.

Again, I didn’t see her as a stand-in, I had all but forgotten her sister by then. She’d worn this cute little red dress with polka dots of all things.

One of those nineteen-fifties Donna Reed numbers that looked fuck hot against her tanned skin with her dark pixie hair cut.

Her ice blue eyes had stood out against the tan, making them sparkle in the moonlight, and her nervous reserve I’d found endearing.

She wasn’t flirtatious, wasn’t giving me any indication whatsoever that she knew what I had planned for her ass that night.

But somehow as we sat across the table from each other as the evening wore on, I found myself wanting her more and more.

Like I said, when I first met her, while I was still engaged to her sister, there’d been a spark. She’d been shy and sweet then too. So I can’t tell you what it was about her that drew me in.

She didn’t have the mammoth tits that I usually lose my mind over. Hers were about medium sized I guess. And she was skinny as hell bordering on anorexic, something I never found appealing.

But on her, everything looked good, everything worked. Either that or my anger had just taken its natural course.

There’s nothing better than a hard fast fuck to get me over my mad. So I sat there vacillating between taking pity on her and taking her back to the villa and putting her back out.

No doubt my snake was going to put a hurting on her tiny five foot two ass. I didn’t ask her if she was a virgin, what the fuck, I’m not. But the thought that she might have fucked that asshole pissed me way the fuck off.

Funny I wasn’t too torn up about her sister doing that shit. And that was the first and last time I thought of the woman that was supposed to be my wife on our honeymoon.

We hadn’t said much to each other at the table but I’m sure from the looks I’d been giving her she pretty much knew what was up when we got up to leave.

She was jumpy as fuck on the ride back and hugged the passenger side door the whole way. When we reached the villa she moved to open her door. “Stay!”

I turned off the engine and walked around to get her. It was the first time I touched her since the night I took her from her father’s house. Was that only four days ago?

I walked her inside with her hand trembling in mine, up the stairs and past the room she’d slept in the night before. She damn near tripped over her feet.