Page 34

H oly. Fuck.

I’d married a beautiful woman. There was no mincing words when it came to describing what I thought of my wife’s appearance.

She was gorgeous. The epitome of womanhood. Every curve and jiggle, every rise and dip, each slope and crevice were just fucking sublime.

My heart ached, the need to go to her was so powerful I had to clench my fists to stop me from making a move in front of her family.

I knew all those fucks. They would have had me by the throat if I accosted her the way I wanted to.

Worth it.

I was still considering it when she asked for the room, and gentlemen that they were, they allowed it.

My throat was dry. My hands were sweating.

I had so much to make up for. So much to say—but she said my name, and I waited, hoping to hear those three words again. But I didn’t.

This time, I got four words. And they were the last fucking things I wanted to hear from my wife.

“I want a divorce.”

“What? No!” I barked, appalled at the idea. “Absolutely fucking not!”

“You’re being unreasonable,” she said, heaving out a rough sigh.

“I’m being unreasonable? Where is this even coming from?” I asked, sputtering and feeling completely blindsided.

“Liam, look, the partnership agreement I signed had stipulations for divorce. But I am willing to forego all shares of ODI, just let’s end this now, okay? Before it goes any farther,” she said, looking for all the world like an ice queen in that ivory gown with that winter wonderland backdrop behind her.

“You think I care about the company?”

“I know you do. And look, you never made me any promises, but I know now that you made them elsewhere and I am sorry if I interfered with that?—”

“What are you talking about?” I asked again.

Something was very fucking wrong here.

Michaela’s midnight eyes flashed angrily, and just like that despair turned to hope.

She didn’t want to fucking divorce me. But somebody said something to make her think that was what I wanted.

“You’ve been preoccupied this week, with work, and I know some of that is my fault for getting in the way of your obligations ,” she said, and I noted the heat in her voice.

“And I am aware I said something that threw you off the last time we—the last time I saw you. What we had was a nice interlude, but it has run its course.”

“Goddamn it, Michaela. Do not finish what you’re about to say,” I warned.

“I-It was just physical. I-I got carried away in the heat of the moment. I said something I shouldn’t have said, and I am sorry for it. I didn’t mean it!”

I shook my head.

This brat.

She thought she could tell me she loved me then take it back like it was nothing?

“That’s the first time you ever lied to me, and it had better be the last, Wife,” I snarled, stalking her across the room.

Michaela squeaked, backing up and nearly tripping over an end table.

“I-I’m not lying. I d-don’t love you,” she whispered just as I caught her.

My hands flexed against her waist, and I dragged her to me.

“Stop it,” she said, halfheartedly.

“Stop what? Touching you? Absofuckinglutely not,” I moaned, pressing my face against her neck.

I wrapped my arms around her luscious body in that fucking dress that made me think dirty thoughts about my beautiful, sweet wife.

I wondered if I needed to crack anyone’s head in for looking at her too long in this outfit and figured I probably needed to.

But then, I breathed in her lilac scent, and the only violence on my mind was the storm of emotions batting against me. Christ, I loved her. Nuzzling her neck, I kissed her. Tasting her soft skin, I savored her with my lips and tongue.

I cherished this woman. She was precious to me, and as I nuzzled my way from her neck to her mouth, I showed her.

Michaela moaned against my lips. She whimpered, trying to wiggle out of my embrace, but I held her tighter, trapping her hands between us as I sipped ambrosia from her lips.

“You’re mine, remember? I am never letting you go,” I whispered, feeling grounded for the first time in days.

But Michaela didn’t smile the way I expected, instead her face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks, she pushed against me.

“Let me go, Please let me go. You’re killing me,” she whispered, and I dropped my arms stunned.

She spun around, her shoulders hunched, and something horrible inside of me broke.

“Michaela,” I said, my voice cracking.

“It’s better this way. Just go. I’ll be fine,” she lied again.

And that horrible thing that was set free at the first tear that rolled down her cheek roared so loud it echoed in my skull.

“No. I’m not going,” I ground out, ignoring the wetness on my face.

“I’m going to call my father, and he’ll have you escorted off the property,” she whispered warned.

“Call him. Call everyone. I don’t fucking care. But you will listen to me, dammit! Michaela, I love you,” I said, shouting now.

“What?”

“I. Love. You.”

“You love me?”

“Of course, I do,” I said, not understanding what she didn’t get about this.

“You crazy, brilliant, wonderful woman! Of course, I love you. How could I not fall in love with you? Never mind that you’re smarter than anyone I know. But you have the most beautiful heart I’ve ever encountered. You’re amazing,” I whispered, staring at her luminous eyes, so dark and wet with her tears they were like black diamonds glittering up at me.

“But what about your obligations?”

“What obligations?”

“I-I got a phone call on the drive up here. Someone said you were promised already, and I had to let you go or you and ODI would suffer,” she confessed.

Rage filled me, completely and immediately. Whoever called my wife was going to pay for the little bit of misinformation.

“We’ll look into that call, but whoever it was, they were lying to you. However we got here, I promise you, going forward there will be no miscommunications, no lies or half-truths. I will always be honest with you. Now, no more talk of divorce, okay?”

“No divorce,” she repeated, biting her lower lip.

Fuck. I loved her lips. They were so pouty and naturally pink. She never wore balm or lipstick to taint her flavor, and I loved that even more. I stole a kiss right then, just because I could, groaning because I knew I couldn’t take it any further with the Volkovs and the Vipers in the next room.

Cockblocking assholes.

But that was okay. There was always later.

“You’re my wife, Michaela. And I’m your husband. Say it.”

“I’m your wife, you’re my husband,” she whispered, and her tone was full of wonder.

“Fuck yes, I am. And I love you,” I said, repeating myself and not giving a shit that I sounded like a total fucking sap.

“Do you really?”

“I get that you’ll need some time to believe me, but yeah, I do. I love you so much, Wife. I am never letting you go,” I said. “So whatever you need to do to come to grips with that, you go on and do it. Just know I will be right here waiting because, Sweetheart, you are mine. Understand?”

“I understand,” she said, and the smile she gifted me sealed itself right over my heart.

“And Liam?”

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” I asked, my gaze adoring as I stared at her with so much feeling I thought it might actually consume me.

“I love you, too.”

My heart swelled and pride filled me as I breathed in her lilacs.

“I’m gonna make you so goddamn happy,” I promised, squeezing her hand in mind.

“You already do.”

I didn’t deserve her. But I was going to. I was going to work damn hard to.