The Reluctant Wife: Chapter 20

The expression on his face signaled there was no changing his mind about the matter. Besides, there was a tone of anguish running through his words. And he said please. Which surprised me, enough that I found myself holding back further arguments on the issue.

He peered into my eyes, and even though I didn’t nod my agreement, he took my silence as acquiescence. He released my hand, rose to his feet and stalked off toward the doorway of the bedroom. I held my breath and urged him in my mind to turn and look at me. But he didn’t. He walked off, leaving me alone. I was sure I’d toss and turn, but to my surprise, I fell asleep.

When I wake up, the sunlight slants through the crack in the curtains. I reach over and grab the phone from my bedside table. Ryot must have plugged it in; it’s charged. Notifications fill the screen. There are missed calls from Gavin, ugh!; from my brother, Viktor; from my assistant Veronica; from Zoey; as well as a ton of voice messages and text messages. I swipe and read the first.

I know my father loves me, but the fact that he didn’t think it was important enough to call me or message me directly after the incident yesterday is not surprising. Disappointing, but not surprising. I read the next message.

I sigh in frustration even as a fond smile tries to curve my lips. Of course, my older brother wants to swoop in and save the day. But the last thing I want is him landing here and making a big fuss.

When my mother passed, I coped with her loss by becoming independent and trying not to rely on anyone else, while also trying to take care of my father and brothers. I’ve tried to become the woman in the family and fill in her role.

My father dealt with her absence by throwing himself into building the future of Verenza. Viktor compensated by becoming protective of me. Once he grew to adulthood, though, he started spending time away from home. He also decided to work his way through a revolving door of women.

As for my middle brother Brandon? He doesn’t get along with my father and has distanced himself from the family.

It’s been years since I’ve seen him, even though he’s kept in touch with me on occasion. No doubt, the news hasn’t yet reached him in whatever corner of the world he’s in.

I know better than to think he’d reach out, but a part of me still hurts that he hasn’t. I shake off the sadness and message Viktor.’

I open the next message.

Good question. Between the shooting yesterday and the note left on my pillow at the other hotel, I feel unbalanced.

Why are these people after me? Are they anti-monarchists? Or is it something more personal that prompted the attack? Why do they want me dead? What harm have I done to them?

A queasy sensation clenches my stomach.

I grip the phone tightly and take a few deep breaths. I’m fine. I’m here. Nothing happened to me, thanks to Ryot.

As long as he’s with me, I’ll be okay. That sense of confidence his presence brings me is no longer a surprise. I may not have known him long, but I’d trust him with my life. He almost took a bullet for me. And it has nothing to do with how he spanked me and brought me to orgasm yesterday. My bottom throbs in recollection. It’s a pleasant soreness, not painful at all. As I wriggle into the bed, the chafe of the sheets against my butt sends a flurry of heat to my clit.

That orgasm relaxed me enough that I could sleep and wake up refreshed. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that he seems to know me better than I know myself. Especially when he came so close to giving in and taking me. I saw the conflict on his face and almost felt sorry for him. But we’re here alone, and I can’t lose this opportunity to get him to fuck me and take my virginity.

And what about your upcoming arranged marriage? Shouldn’t you mention it to him?

If I do, he’s going to be angry with me. No way is he going to fuck me. Nope. He’s too honorable for that. And I’m a heel for thinking of seducing him while engaged to someone else. Then again, does it count if it’s a marriage of convenience to someone I don’t even like? I press my fingers to my forehead. The bottom line is, I want him.

I want…something to hold onto for when I’m trapped in a loveless marriage. This is the only way I can control my future. And he’s said he wants me too. He’ll probably be upset if I don’t tell him I’m engaged, but if I do, he might not want anything else to do with me. Which means, I’d miss out on being with him, even if it is temporary, and I can’t bear the thought of that.

I’m a terrible person. My conscience would never let me rest. I have to tell him. Maybe later, though?

I message Zoey to let her know I’m fine and pick up the next one from my assistant.

Instantly, the dots on screen jump around. Then a message pings back.

Just shaken, but I’m not going to tell her that.

The dots jump around again.

Veronica’s been a lifesaver. When my former assistant suddenly quit a year ago, I needed someone to replace her asap. The recruitment agency the palace worked with sent through a bunch of resumes, but they weren’t satisfactory. That’s when I coaxed the palace to advertise on the official Royal Family website for the first time.

The two assistants I shortlisted from the entries and offered the job to dropped out. I then met with Veronica and, while I wasn’t a hundred percent happy with our chemistry, I put that down to the fact that her personality is so different from mine.

On paper, she was a perfect candidate. She ticked all the boxes. And because I urgently needed someone, I decided to proceed with her. My former security team screened her. And so did Ryot and his team. So, if there were anything suspicious, it would have shown. Besides, she’s never given me any reason to be dissatisfied with her performance.

Ideally, I should record a video message, but given I don’t have any cosmetics with me to appear halfway decent on screen, this will have to do.

I frown. He cancelled my events? Without checking with me? That’s taking things too far. How dare he take this liberty? It feels like someone dumped a pail of cold water on me.

I sit up, and the last vestiges of sleep fade away. I push off my cover and rise to my feet. Taking in my naked form, a blush sears my cheeks. Also, I’m pissed with myself. I’m grateful for the orgasm, but making decisions related to my schedule without consulting me is not something I’ll tolerate.

I spot a bathrobe, along with a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt folded on the chair next to the bed. He must have left them for me. I shake them out and when I hold them against my body, I realize they’re my size. And they’re brand new, with the labels attached. So, that rules out this belonging to any girlfriend. How did he manage to swing this? And did he do this because he was being thoughtful?

I should find his actions controlling but it turns me on. For someone who hates restrictions imposed on my life, I find Ryot ordering me around very hot.

Besides, I don’t fancy wearing the same clothes I was wearing yesterday. Not when they remind me of the assassination attempt. My stomach clenches, and my knees feel rubbery.

Assassination attempt? Is it right to call it that? Aren’t assassinations only supposed to happen to public figures who are important? I’ve never thought of myself that way. But what happened yesterday makes it clear that someone thinks I’m important enough to shoot at me. Another tremor of fear squeezes my chest. I brush it aside. I am safe, for now. And I feel rested.

I pull on the bathrobe and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. The space is smaller than the size of the bathrooms I’m used to, and the furnishings are basic. But everything is clean. There’s a sink with a hot and cold tap. A mirrored cabinet above it. An old-fashioned clawed tub stands to my left. There’s a shower cubicle tucked away into the wall behind me. And thick towels are hung over the rack next to the sink. I walk over to survey myself in the mirror.

A stream of condensation along the top tells me he already showered. There’s one used toothbrush, along with toothpaste, next to the sink. I pull open the mirror, and finding a new toothbrush, snap it open. I brush my teeth, shrug off the bathrobe and step into the shower. I use the soap, which doubles up as a shampoo, and wince when I massage it into my hair. Without any conditioner, my hair’s going to be a mess, but at least I’ll be clean, right? Besides, it smells like him.

I sniff at the liquid in my palm. It’s dark and musky with a trace of cloves and cinnamon. It reminds me of how he smelled when he held me close and protected me from the assassin’s bullet with his body. It turns me on and makes me feel so very close to him. Like he’s right here in the shower with me. I lather up and run my fingers over my swollen nipples down my waist to my tender ass. The touch sets off ripples of pain-pleasure which arrow to my core.

My pussy turns into a triangle of need. I slide my fingers inside my cunt and, supporting myself against the wall of the shower, I begin to masturbate. He said I can’t come onto him, but I can get off to thoughts of him, right? I imagine the water from the shower running down the ridge between his pecs, down to the trail of hair arrowing down to that magnificent specimen of manhood… Which I’d do anything to wrap my fingers around. Assuming my fingers could circle his cock, that is. Instantly, my inner walls clench.

Just thinking of his glorious cock sends tendrils of heat up my spine. I begin to pant and imagine him, with his thick fingers around the distended head of his cock, as he begins to stroke himself from root to head again and again. I see his thigh muscles bunching and the tendons of his forearms flexing as his shaft grows bigger and thicker, and I imagine him growling as he comes. It’s enough to send me over the edge. I push the knuckles of my free hand into my mouth as I follow him over the edge.

Jesus, this climax was nowhere as intense as the one I experienced when he spanked me, and nowhere as satisfying, but it’s still better than the ones my formerly trusty vibrators bestowed on me. Gah. The man has spoiled me for self-induced climaxes. Another reason he’s the right person to be my first.

An arranged marriage to European royalty means there’s an unspoken expectation I’ll be a virgin. I’m determined that my first time will be with someone of my choosing.

And him? What about how angry and upset Ryot is going to be when he finds out about your upcoming nuptials? I’ll have to make him understand. I hope he’ll understand that it was my choice to give my virginity to him. What I feel for him is so powerful, I cannot even fathom giving it to anyone else.

As for Gavin finding out? Given the lack of chemistry between us, I doubt he’d even notice. And if he did, I’d explain it away with a vibrator.

A part of me is aware that this is not very princess-like behavior My mother would not be happy about my decision. But I’m confident she’d understand my need to create a few memories that are only for me.

I finish my shower, then dry off. Wearing the same bathrobe, I head back into the room. I want to defy him and not wear the clothes he left out for me, which would mean going down in the bathrobe, which feels too close to being naked. So, I swallow my pride, pull on the fresh underwear along with the jeans and the sweatshirt, which is incredibly soft.

I slide my phone into my pocket, then walk out and head down the stairs. The scent of coffee draws me to the kitchen.

I step in to find he’s standing at the stove. Good Lord, he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants pulled low. The material stretches across that tight backside and to his powerful thighs and makes me woozy. Maybe that’s because I’m hungry? Sadly, his chest is not bare. But he’s wearing a black T-shirt that’s been washed so often, it’s threadbare. Lucky me.

It stretches across the breadth of his shoulders and clings to the hard planes of his back before dipping in at his trim waist. My mouth begins to water. My fingers tingle. My mind is busy taking mental snapshots that I can add to my spank bank. And after the stunt he pulled by cancelling my appointments, that’s all I’m going to allow myself.

I take a couple of steps in his direction when he turns. His green eyes lock with mine. The impact is almost physical. I gasp and come to a standstill. My heart leaps into my throat. I’m unable to move. Unable to say anything. I simply take in his clean-shaven face and his wet hair, which he’s finger-combed back. An errant lock of hair has fallen over his forehead, and I so want to go over and smooth it back. I swallow, trying to get a grip on myself.

His expression softens. ‘Good morning,’ he rumbles.

“’Morning,” I mumble.

He takes in my pink cheeks, but probably assumes it’s due to the shower I just took, for he merely nods toward the table. ‘Have a seat.’

I begin to shuffle over, then stop myself. How annoying that I’m tempted to obey him. How annoying that I want to please him. I push aside the instincts and glower back. ‘You cancelled my events?’

He tilts his head. I expect him to look guilty. Instead, he picks up the carafe of coffee and a cup. He walks over to the table and, placing the cup in front of me, he pours me some.

The bitter, aromatic scent of the liquid makes me almost cry with joy. He places a small jug of milk next to the cup, along with a bowl of sugar, then looks at me with polite curiosity. My gaze is drawn to the coffee, and I find myself edging toward it. When I reach the table, I can’t resist. I sink into the chair, pour in the milk, and add three spoonfuls of sugar to the coffee. I stir it, set the spoon down, then raise the cup to my mouth and take a sip. Rich. Sweet. Complex. Dark. I moan. ‘This is good.’ I take another sip, then look up to find him watching my mouth with hungry eyes.

‘It’s my favorite coffee,’ he states.

‘It’s very good.’ My voice breaks, and I have to clear my throat. He looks away, and I collapse back as if released from a tractor beam. Whoa, everything about this man is intense. And distracting. I frown. ‘You didn’t answer me.’

‘Was there a question?’

He turns back to the cooking range, and making a batter of the powdered eggs pours it into the skillet.

‘You can cook?’ I blurt out, then mentally smack myself. Nice, such a clever observation.

‘I learned to cook so I could eat palatable food.”

The enticing smells of eggs and bacon frying wafts over, and my stomach rumbles. By the time I’ve finished my coffee, he’s placed a heaping plate in front of me and a twin in front of himself. I eye the scrambled eggs, accompanied by bacon, baked beans, a sausage, and hash browns.

The toaster oven dings. He heads over to it and returns with a plate of toasted whole wheat bread slices, which he places between us, next to the butter and jam which are already there. He ensures we have cutlery, then tops up our coffee cups before taking his seat.

‘Eat up.’ He nods at my plate.

My stomach rumbles, but I tear my gaze away from the food and fix him with a glare. “I have a question.” I fold my arms across my chest. ‘Did you cancel my appointments for the day?’

‘And for the next five days.’ He nods.

I blink. “That was my schedule. My meetings. My team and I spent weeks, in some cases, months, arranging them.’

‘None of them are more important than your life,’ he says in a reasonable tone.

Anger squeezes my spine. I’m pissed that he seems so unruffled and unrepentant about making this decision without informing me. And I’m even more angry that he’s right. I shove that last thought aside. ‘I wish you’d consulted me first.”

He nods. ‘I’m sorry, I did it without asking you.’

Eh? I pause mid-tirade. He’s already apologized to me, so why am I surprised that he is willing to do so again?

‘After you were asleep, I realized that it would be much safer if we holed up here for a few days, until things cool off. But I didn’t want to wake you. I did text you though, so you’d see the message when you woke up.’

‘You did?’ I frown.

‘I also plugged in your phone and left it to charge on your bedside table.’

‘I noticed. Thanks.’ I smile weakly before pulling out my phone and scrolling through the rest of my messages. Sure enough, there’s one from him, updating me on what he’s done. I must have missed it.

‘This’—I hold up my phone—’is not a consultation. This is a…a directive from you.’

‘It’s a recommendation, as your head of security.’

I rub at my temple. “I understand why the events needed to be called off. I’m also aware that I don’t have the necessary wardrobe on hand to go to the appointments.” Not to mention, I do not want to put myself on display, not when the person who took a shot at me is at large. “What I’m not happy about is that you took that unilateral decision without discussing it with me.”

Ryot takes in the play of expressions on my face. A look of consternation comes over his features. ‘You’re right.’

My eyebrows shoot up. ‘You agree?”

He nods. ‘I’m not going to argue my point when I’m wrong. I was… Influenced by my concern for you.”

He squares his shoulders.

‘I shouldn’t have made that categorical decision. I’m sorry. I was—’ He seems at a loss for words. ‘I was upset and angry. I thought I’d failed you. I allowed myself to be distracted and slipped up on my duty to protect you. I felt responsible for what happened. I could not have lived with myself if you’d been hurt in anyway.”

His jaw hardens.

“I probably wasn’t thinking straight when I messaged your assistant and told her to cancel your appointments. I didn’t think through how it might come across to your team or how it might upset you.’

He looks away and draws in a few deep breaths. When he looks back at me, his features are contrite.

‘It was wrong of me to make that call on your behalf. My…my personal feelings for you interfered with my professional judgement.’ His forehead furrows. ‘It won’t happen again.’

I’m so taken aback by the fact that he explained himself, I stare, bemused.

‘Do you forgive me?’ he asks softly.

My anger dissolves in the face of his contrition. And the fact he admitted that his feelings for me influenced him… Wow! Coming from this man who’s held his emotions so tightly in control since he assumed the role of my bodyguard, is unexpected. And thrilling.

“You do forgive me, don’t you?”

The worry in his voice lights a trail of warmth under my skin. My heart blooms in my chest. Oh, my god. After all these days of yearning to see some sign that he recalls the passion of our first kiss, I am overwhelmed. I try to speak but my tongue refuses to cooperate. My brain is digesting everything I’ve heard from him. Struck dumb, I can only nod.

His shoulders relax. ‘Thank you.’

I shake my head. ‘Thank you for thinking on your feet. I wasn’t in any shape to make any decisions yesterday. And I certainly can’t face turning up for those meetings today. You did the right thing.’

He peers into my face and, when he realizes I mean it, his forehead smooths out. “I did want to suggest one more thing.”

I look at him, waiting.

“It would be best if all communication with your team went through me.” His tone is firm but soft.

I rub at my temple. What he’s suggesting is for my own safety. But it means losing another freedom.

“It’s only until we track down whoever is behind the shooting.”

Hearing him say that sends another shudder down my spine. “You’re convinced someone from within my inner circle is involved somehow?”

He nods. “Given I’d mentioned it to them, it seems probable someone shared details of where we were headed with the perpetrators. I don’t want to take any more chances with your safety.”

I’m more than a little gutted at what he’s implying. If I can’t trust those in my inner circle, then who can I rely on? You can trust Ryot. And Zoey, and your friends. And your father. And your brothers. I have people I can lean on. The thought reassures me.

I nod. “Okay.”

The tension leaches from his shoulder. His lips quirk. “Thank you for believing in me, Princess. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” a flood of feelings grips my chest. My heart feels like it’s going to burst. My cheeks grow warm. I have never felt this close to anyone before. It goes beyond physical attraction. This is something more. I trust him with my life. I want more. But I can’t have it because I must marry someone else.

Tell him, Aura. Tell him you’re engaged.

Given Ryot has information about my background and must have made his own enquiries too… There’s no way he doesn’t know I am, right? And if it doesn’t bother him, then who am I to bring it up? I convince myself.

Besides, if I mentioned it to him, our dynamic would change. This closeness I feel with him, would be gone. This understanding and affection that’s developed between us would be shattered. Right now, I can’t bear that. No, I’ll tell him later, when the time is right.

‘I have another question.’ I nod toward my clothes. ‘These are my size; how did you manage that?’

‘I reached out to a clothes-shopper my sister-in-law, Skylar, uses and gave her your size. She packed enough clothes to last a few days, including some formal wear. I had my brother, Tyler, deliver them to me early this morning.’

‘Your brother knows where we are?’

He hesitates. ‘I’d have preferred no one knew, but if I did have to take someone’s help, it would be Tyler. He’s a former Marine, and I’d trust him with my life… And yours.’

Something about how he says it is so sincere, so absolute, I believe him. I am grateful to have clothes in my size. And I appreciate that he was thoughtful enough to think this through. ‘Thank you.’

“We’re safe here. There’s an electric fence around the property, plus a complete array of cameras and drones, all of which are linked to the security app on my phone. And to Tyler’s phone, as well. Nothing can get in or out without our knowing. Given the security, we don’t need to be confined to the house either. We can move about the grounds freely.”

He’s so thoughtful, that lightness in my chest expands until it fills my entire body. It confirms to me I made the right decision in not telling him about my upcoming nuptials. I don’t want to spoil this moment between us.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

He inclines his head. ‘You should eat.’ He nods in the direction of the heaped plate he set in front of me.

I pick up my knife and fork and cut up a piece of the sausage, along with a bit of the hash browns and baked beans. I fork it into my mouth, and the flavors explode on my palate. The sausage is juicy and well-seasoned, with a blend of herbs and spices, the baked beans are sweet and tangy, and the hash browns are crunchy. I couldn’t tell this came from a can and frozen ingredients. ‘Whoa. This is surprisingly good.’

His lip twitch. I can tell by the crinkling of the lines around his eyes that he’s pleased by my compliments.

I concentrate on eating for the next few minutes, and so does he. When I’ve finished more than half of what’s on my plate, I lean back with a sigh. ‘I’m full.’

‘You’re sure?’