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Queen V and Prince Albert sniffed around, exploring their new home. I’d gotten them new beds and toys. And I’d filled some bowls with food and water.

They were huge creatures, but they were known as gentle giants for a reason. They’d always been friendly and affectionate with me, and it was nice to have them here.

I gave Queen V a quick pat, glancing back at Graham over my shoulder. I watched him as he surveyed the space, trying to get a read on him.

“Moving on,” I said, desperate to fill the uncomfortable silence. “Bathroom.” It had an outdated toilet with the tank near the ceiling, a cast-iron claw-foot tub, and a sink. “No hot water,” I said quickly, trying to gloss over that fact as I led him toward the bedroom. “And bedroom.”

I spied some bras on the bed before shoving them into the dresser. My cheeks were on fire, and I couldn’t look at him. Thank goodness my wigs were still hidden in my suitcase. If I’d realized I’d be having company, I would’ve taken more care to tidy before I’d left for Mexico.

As it was, the bed was sloppily made, and it was small. And old. It was definitely not as sexy or luxurious as Graham’s penthouse or even the cabin we’d stayed in on Knox’s yacht. My cheeks heated, remembering that night. Remembering the way Graham had touched me, caressed me. Looked at me.

His jaw hardened. “You’ve been living like this for the past year?”

I twisted my hands together, my earlier thoughts forgotten. “When I wasn’t traveling for my blog, yes.”

“What do you mean, there’s no hot water? How do you keep clean? How do you wash your clothes?”

“Laundromat in town.” I glanced away. “And I take a lot of cold showers. Well, baths, actually.”

“Cold—” He opened his mouth, aghast. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I were.” Though now that Graham was going to be living here with me in such close proximity, the cold baths seemed like more of a necessity. “Honestly, they’re more like lukewarm. You can use the electric kettle to help warm the water, but it takes forever, so I only do it every so often.”

He shook his head, and it sounded like he muttered, “Unacceptable.”

“Look,” I sighed, trying not to visibly flinch at his tone. “I’m sorry it’s not up to your standards. I’ve had to prioritize projects, and this one was relatively low on the list.”

“Not up to my standards?” he scoffed. “I couldn’t give a shit about that. And I get having to prioritize projects, but Lil—” He turned to me, grasping my shoulders. “You’re my wife. You have twenty million dollars at your disposal.”

“For the restoration of the château. Not for my personal use.”

“Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what you use it for. But I do expect you to make your comfort a priority.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Youexpect?”

“You know what I mean.” He turned back to face me. “But yes, actually, I do insist that you do something about this.” He gestured to the room.

“Because you’re ashamed that I’m living in such squalor.”

“No. Because you deserve better, and I have the means to give it to you.”

I didn’t know whether to be touched or insulted by his statement. Even so, fixing up my current living quarters seemed unnecessarily frivolous. “I don’t want to spend a bunch of time and money fixing up an apartment that will eventually be converted into something else.”

“It wouldn’t have to take long, and the cost is irrelevant.”

My frustration was mounting, my skin growing warm. “It matters to me.”

He leaned in. “I think you forget who I am and what it means to be married to me.”

Oh, I hadn’t forgotten. Before we’d had it out on Knox’s yacht, being married to Graham had meant silent dinners. Nights spent alone.

And while I didn’t want to ruin our tentative peace, I also refused to revert to how things had been. I refused to let Graham call the shots. I refused to be a silent partner in this marriage.

“There’s nothing money can’t buy,” he said.

I scoffed. “I suppose that’s true. I mean, you bought a wife.” I gestured to myself.

“And you sure as hell didn’t come cheap.”