Page 24 of Sweet Wicked Vows
It was a typical kitchen plucked straight out of a home magazine. Marble countertops, an island with a working gas stove, and a dining table long enough to feed all my brothers and hers.
“I’ve ordered some things.” She waved at the emptiness. “The essentials, mainly. Toaster, pots and pans, and cutlery. They should arrive today or tomorrow.”
I said nothing, hovering over the coffee and grabbing the only two mugs in the kitchen.
“There’s a food order coming, too. I grabbed a couple things last night before I arrived. Just the basics,” she continued talking. “I’m not sure about you, but I am a lousy chef. So, it might be worth looking into getting a cook, and maybe someone to help with the housework.”
She opened the fridge, standing on her tip-toes to reach for the carton of creamer, causing the baggyNYU T-shirt to ride up and reveal her stomach. A spark ignited within me, burning a heat that didn’t make sense. Her skin looked soft and perfect like it was waiting for someone to mark it, sink their teeth in and take a bite.
Someone like me.
I busied myself with pouring the coffee in an attempt to dampen the growing flames.
“Do you want me to show you around the place?” Evelyn said, pouring sweetened creamer into her mug. “There’s the basic furniture. We’ll definitely need more as time goes on. Something we could look at together?”
Silently, I followed her from the kitchen and let her show me the way up the stairs to the first floor. It was a form of torture walking behind her. Her ass in those stupid shorts was hypnotic. I wanted to rip them off her and see what other treats lay underneath while simultaneously wanting to set fire to them to ensure that no other man got to lay eyes on her wearing them.
She pointed to some of the rooms on the way. The entire place was the exact opposite of my apartment back in Ontario. Color infiltrated the walls and carpets, and Evelyn had already placed photo frames and pieces of art on the walls.
There was too much going on, too much to take in at once.
I liked things that were simple.
No mess. No fuss.
“This is your room.” We stopped at the last bedroom. “All your boxes should be in there. Poppy has offered to come and help us unpack tomorrow.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I’ll look into hiring someone for the house.”
She pursed her lips, sending a shock wave down into my cock. “Fine.”
“Separate rooms,” I smirked. “I thought it usually took a couple of years before married couples started sleeping in different rooms.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “I didn’t realize you wanted us to share a bedroom.”
“I don’t,” I said, matter-of-fact. “After all, this—” I motioned between us. “—is a façade. A business arrangement. For all those on the outside, we will be the perfectly matched couple. We will play the part for your father’s sake and all those spectating, but in the privacy of our home, we will be nothing more than cohabiting people.”
“How romantic.”
“If romance is what you want,douceur, then I suggest you find a way to turn back time and wed some nobody that will never be your equal.” I sipped my coffee. “This marriage is based on practicality. I can offer you support and strength during your year as CEO.They’ll be watching every move you make. No one thinks you’re capable of pulling this off. My name and presence will offer protection from that.”
“And what exactly do you get out of this practical marriage?” she challenged. “Or are you just being a good boy and doing exactly what your big brother Frederic tells you to do?”
I grinned at her fraying temper. Below that perfect exteriorwas something darker, something more devastatingly beautiful and demanding. “Your company opening its iron grip on the European market is too lucrative to turn my nose up at. Lexington would have never considered working with his competitor, but you are desperate enough to agree to it.”
Pretty little flickers of anger resonated on her picture-perfect face. She was trying to control herself, to keep her temper in tow.
Let it out, show me your claws.
“You realize I saw through the charade you all put on at dinner last week?”
Her brow creased. “Is that so?”
“Evelyn, you think me stupid,non?I saw your father with my own eyes. He is dying, no matter how much you try to convince the world and yourself he isn’t.”
She opened her mouth, the lie ready to come out, but she opted to remain silent.
Good girl.