Page 61 of Arranged Control

“Why didn’t you just tell me about it?” I surprise myself by turning on her. I’m angry and I don’t even know why. This woman is barely my wife. She doesn’t owe me anything. But I’m angry anyway.

She looks away. I can tell she’s afraid. “I was worried you’d think I wanted it.”

“Wanted it?”

“Like I was looking for a way out.”

“Aren’t you?” I step toward her. She looks up sharply. “Don’t pretend like I’m an idiot. I know you didn’t want this marriage. Neither of us planned it.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m complaining to some note-leaving ghost about you.”

“What if you were?”

“I’m not, okay?” Anger sparks in her face. “I know my duty. My father made it clear that I’d have a good life, but one day I’d have to help the family like everyone else does. I didn’t want to marry you, but I was willing to do it.”

“And now you’re wishing you hadn’t.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then why did you hide the note?”

“I didn’t mean to!” She explodes at me, stalking forward. “Every time I tried to bring it up, we had sex instead, okay?! You keep distracting me and now I’m all mixed up and pissed off, but I never meant to lie to you.”

She stands right in front of me, tiny and beautiful and pissed to all hell. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore, but I’m on edge too.

It’s not her fault. Whoever left that note is the problem. Not my wife. I can blame her all I want, but it’ll only push her away and mess things up even worse, and that’s not what I want.

No, what I want is simple.

I pull her into me and crush my lips to hers.

She whimpers in surprise. I kiss her hard, greedy and angry and wanting her so badly it hurts. After a beat, she returns the kiss, just as deep and full. Our tongues mingle and I hold her tight, not caring about anything but her safety and what she needs.

And it becomes clear. Everything’s obvious. What I need to do. How I have to play this.

We break apart. She’s breathing fast. I stare down into her beautiful eyes and I’m surer than I’ve ever been.

“We’ll move into your place.”

That surprises her. She pulls back, looking confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t want to live here. I don’t give a shit where we are. So let’s go back to your place.”

“But it’s not safe.”

“That’s the catch.”

“There’s always a catch.”

“I’m going to make it safe. Whatever improvements I want to make, I’m going to make.”

She hesitates, not happy about that one. I can’t really blame her. I’m giving myself a lot of license to make changes to her home.

“And we’ll stay there? You really mean it?”

“For as long as you want to.”

She chews her lip, coming around to the idea. “You’re not mad about the note?”