Page 5 of Eager Housewife

Ainsley going to university three years ago left an empty place in my heart. Then Blythe cracked it entirely open, and it’s a chasm. Filling that aching gap with Blythe and our children is too perfect to be believable.

“I did childhood studies at university because I want to be with kids,” Blythe adds. “This isn’t a whim.”

“What if I set you up so you could have your own house and childcare centre.” I can afford it. I manoeuvre us through the London traffic, my thoughts racing. “One that you owned, and ran exactly as you liked.”

There’s a pause.

“Why would you do that?”

“To help you. Or…” I cannae believe I’m going to offer this. But you’re a long time deid, as my Scottish grandfather used to say. “You can have the marriage of convenience. Like I set out in the advert you read.”

I’ve lost my goddamn mind. I’ll go to hell for this. I’ll be rightly judged a class-A arsehole. I’ll risk losing my daughter and that’s a pain in my heart… But what I could gain?Blythe.

“I’ll have marriage,” she replies promptly, as though there’s no question which is better.

“There’ll be a prenup.” It would have terms more generous than any standard divorce settlement, but she’s not to know that.

“I don’t care. I don’t want your money.”

Her sweet voice ruins me, and as I pull up at the Blackstone house, I recognise I’m not strong enough to say no.

“There’s one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“We’d have to both be faithful.” Not an issue on my side, for certain. “I don’t share. If you’re my wife, you’remine.”

3

BLYTHE

“I’m yours.” The admission sends a shiver through me, as though it’s a magical vow sworn in blood rather than an impulsive truth spoken in a stationary vehicle.

I’m his. I have been since we first met.

Mr Blackstone’s throat bobs as he swallows, and I wonder if he’s as affected by this conversation as I am. We’ve stopped, but he’s gripping the steering wheel and looking ahead as though we’re speeding down a road, out of control.

“Two days off a week,” he rumbles.

“What?”

“You have to?—”

“That wasn’t in the advert,” I cut in. I don’t need holidays as though this is a nine-to-five in a grey office.

I want surprise gleeful loving hot sexy times, at any hour of any day. No, I haven’t got specific ideas about what that really entails, but that’s beside the point.

“I hadn’t finished writing the specification before you…” He pauses and I cringe, biting my tongue to prevent myself from saying that I didn’t mean to snoop. “Sawit.”

“Right.” I’m not disappointed. I’m not. It makes perfect sense.

Although, of course I’m a bit hurt he doesn’t want me to be his wifeall the time. Hisfree usewife.

“You can do whatever you want at the weekend. Except see anyone in a…”

“I won’t,” I say quickly. Anything he’s about to specify, I don’t want. I only desire Mr Blackstone. “And I don’t need days?—”

“You’ll have time off, because I will expect a lot from you during the week,” he growls, jaw set as he unpeels his hands from the steering wheel and shoves the car door open.