IT HAS BEEN HOURS SINCE the innkeeper cleaned up the blood-stained floors but I keep dragging my gaze over to the spot where I lost my fucking mind. I want to relive the moment—to feel the way his nose crushed from the blast of my fist.
I want to make him pay for what he did to her over and over again.
The authorities had come and taken him away. Bribery goes far in this city. Throw a handful of silver coins in the policeman’s face and the problem is swept under the rug. It also doesn’t hurt having your best friend being deeply involved with every single person with any sort of clout in this godforsaken place. With Jasper’s influence, my nearly killing that idiot went away. Simple enough.
What didn’t go away was the mood that filled both Edith and I afterwards. There’s a thick cloud hovering over each of us, and I don’t like it one fucking bit. Gone is the easiness of our agreement. It has been replaced with confusion. I feel as if the foundation of our relationship has been fractured. Neither of us has spoken but I can feel her blaming me for what happened.
She damn well should blame me. What sort of fucking fool agrees to marry a woman and still allow her to have endless amounts of lovers? Guilt niggles at me. Apparently I am that fool. My intention was for it to be easy. A business relationship. I wasn’t supposed to have feelings for her—feelings that I don’t even know how to comprehend.
I’m not attracted to her.
Keep telling yourself that.
My mind drifts to earlier when she fucked that arsehole. I couldn’t get her out of my head and with every moan he drew from her, I wanted to slit my goddamned wrists to escape the taunting of her voice. Sure, I had driven into the blonde over and over again, but it was Edith’s name that was sitting on my tongue. And when I slammed my eyes closed before I came, I imagined her haughty raised eyebrow and that mouth of hers. The blonde was a vessel. It wouldn’t be the first time I got off with my wife on my mind while I fucked my lovers.
It’s a goddamn mess.
She’s my wife. I should be allowed to have her any time I damn well please. But is that what I want?
The thought of another man coming into her room ever again infuriates me. I cannot allow it any longer. In fact, we’re leaving this wretched city in the morning. I’m ready to take her to safety and introduce her to my family.
She whimpers in her sleep and the fierce need to protect her overwhelms me. It shocks me but I don’t hate the sensation. I rise from my seat in the corner of the room and stalk over to her bedside. With each breath she takes, I watch her. Her dark locks are still wet from her bath and I have the urge to twist my fingers into them. Dark lashes jut out over her naturally rosy cheeks and I decide, in this moment, that she is very beautiful. Why else do I think about her continuously?
Another terrified sound comes from her lips as she sleeps. I want to comfort her but I’m not sure I even know how. With a deep sigh, I kick off my shoes and crawl into bed behind her. She’s warm and appears to be so tiny without all of her frilly clothes on that she normally wears. I do what feels right and wrap an arm around her.
How could I have ever put her in such a dangerous situation? What if he had killed her?
The thought causes bile to rise in my throat. I squeeze her tighter to me and inhale the lovely scent of her hair. If someone were to come in, they’d see me acting like her damn husband.
I am her damn husband. It’s high time I begin acting like it. Especially if we set off to see Father tomorrow.
Not long ago, after we signed our agreement, she had mouthed off at me and wondered what would happen if she were to confess our sham of a marriage to my father. I’d gone off on her and told her I’d kill her myself to keep the secret.
It was all a lie though. A lie she believed—a lie I needed her to believe to make this work.
Truth was, however, I would never lay a finger on Edith. In fact, the moment I had delivered my threat, I instead wanted nothing more than to take her mouth with mine—to taste the woman that agreed to be my wife so easily.
But I was blinded by my contract to her—I didn’t want to mix business with pleasure. After we’d gone off to the inn where I’d reserved two rooms, we parted ways until our wedding the next evening. Once we had our ceremony, however, I realized just how difficult that would be—not mixing the business with pleasure—and I nearly destroyed it all in one evening.
“You may kiss your bride,” the officiant says blandly. I had called for him last minute and apparently he has better things to do with his time, even though I paid him handsomely for his services.
Edith lifts her wide, brown eyes to mine and I see the hope in them. I’m snared in her gaze—a gaze that says she believes this marriage may evolve into something more than a contractual binding of two people.
And that simply cannot happen.
Too much is at stake.
My inheritance for one.
The other is her heart. I’m simply not a man that falls for one woman and stays there. I enjoy the company of a lady in my bed but by dawn I will have grown bored of her. They’re for my pleasure without unnecessary ties securing me to them. If I allow myself to kiss her—to taste the mouth that I’ve learned can be quite saucy—then I’ll lead the poor girl on.
I can see it in her eyes.
She is the type to become attached.
The moment I sink into her and find my release, I’ll be ready to roll over and forget her. It cannot be that way between the two of us. We’re married now and we have an act to uphold. If she were to be clingy, or worse yet, jealous of my other lovers, she may divulge our pact to my family.
Keeping her at a distance is what needs to be done.
Dipping down, I press a chaste kiss to her forehead. When I pull back and smile curtly at her, I see the tears swim in her eyes. The moment is brief before she plasters on a fake smile and storms from the chapel.
Welcome to married life.
By the time I reach the doors to exit the building, I see her hiking her dress up as she hustles across the street to a pub. I groan and check my timepiece. The whore I paid for will be waiting in my room soon.
Running a palm through my thick hair, I make a decision. I’ll cheer the poor woman up and the whore can wait. I’ll pay her doubly for her time.
“Edith!” I call out but she ignores me as she slips inside the pub.
By the time I have made it indoors, I see her sitting at the bar telling the man her order. I stride over to her and sit in the stool next to her.
“Celebratory drink, Countess?” I question.
I bark out my order while I wait for her to answer. It doesn’t come though. I’ve gone off and married a woman that’s slightly mad.
Leaning toward her, I drop my lips to her ear. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Edith. This is a business relationship if you’ll recall, not a real marriage.”
She nods and turns to regard me. Our faces are inches apart and hell if I don’t have the urge to kiss her like I should have at the chapel. My eyes fall to her lips and I stifle the groan that nearly overtakes me.
“Let’s drink. We’ll celebrate this marriage—our business deal,” she says with a false smile. The act turns her pretty mouth into something flat and insincere. I’m not fond of this smile.
Hours later, we’ve overindulged on liquor and I can’t stop wondering what she tastes like—her mouth, her breasts, her cunt. I would imagine she’s sweeter than honey.
“When may I call upon my first lover, Alexander?” she questions with a hiccup.
My half grin drops as I imagine another man enjoying the mouth I’ve spent all night obsessing over. If fucking outrages me. “Not tonight,” I tell her gruffly.
Her lips fall into a pout and I feel my cock become erect.
What if?
I tangle my fingers in her hair and pull her to me. Both of us stare at the other for a long moment, neither of us willing to make the first move. Before I do something I shall regret, I bring my lips to her ear and I draw the lobe between my teeth. She lets out a tiny gasp and her hand covers mine that’s in her hair. We become statues for what feels like eternity as I tongue her ear. It’s evident we both desire more. I’m willing to forget the whole stupid contract for one night. Could we both put it behind us tomorrow and carry on like usual?
“There you are, Alexander!” a shrill, familiar voice rings out. “I have been waiting at the inn for hours.”
The whore. I’ve used her on many occasions because she sucks cock really fucking well. But tonight I don’t want her. I want something new.
I want Edith, my wife.
But Edith has sobered in my arms and is pushing herself away from me. “Your lover is here,” she spits out in disgust as she retreats.
I gape after her as she stumbles toward the door in her haste to leave. A man steadies her near the door and I see the interest he has for her in his eyes.
“Do you want me to suck you off in the alley or in your room?” the whore questions as she reaches me and slips her arms around my neck.
My eyes are still on Edith. She glances once at me and then smiles at the man on her arm. Together, they stroll out of the pub toward the inn.
I could go after her.
Stake claim on my wife.
Or, I could count my blessings at having avoided what could have been a huge mistake.
“The room will be perfect, dear,” I murmur to the whore. My lips connect with hers but my eyes are on the dark-haired woman I can still see through the window.
Edith rolls over in my arms so that our chests touch, jerking me from my thoughts, and I stare at her. Even asleep, she manages to intrigue me. I want to know what it is that she thinks about all day. Do I ever cross her mind? Does she ever wonder what it would be like to make love to me?
I slide a palm up to her cheek and stroke her gently. This shouldn’t feel so comfortable. However, I find myself relaxing and losing consciousness as I hold this woman.
My wife.
When did things change?