Page 11 of Give It a Day (Song-Smith #1)
Kayla
My shoulders raise at the sight of his steady, unwavering gaze. I know all too well how far he’s willing to push my limits if I put up too much of a fight, so I bargain. “You want me to pretend like I’m your happy wife at our reception? Fine, but what’s in it for me?”
A small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“What’s in it for you?” he repeats, his eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement before his eyelids lower, narrowing his gaze at me.
“How about complete reign of the mansion, maybe space all to yourself? A study with your own library of any books you could ever ask for.”
“That’s it?” I pretend to yawn to make my point. “I’m not Belle. You can’t just win me over with that. Besides, I already have that at my own family home. Try harder.”
He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over my ear. “Fine,” he whispers, his voice low and husky. “How about my black card? No need to ever ask for my approval for purchases. You get whatever you want.” His hand drifts down to my hip, giving it a slight squeeze.
As much as I like his touch, I scoff at his offer. “I have a better idea. How about after this pretend reception, we sign an annulment?”
Damon pulls back, his eyes flickering a dangerous light. Lightning in a bottle. How does he do that? “Not an option. We’re married, like it or not. But I’ll make you a deal.”
I sigh but concede. “I’m listening…”
“If you can make it through this evening without causing a scene—smile, dance with me, play the loving wife—I’ll consider discussing an annulment. But now that I think about it…” He moves closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. “You have to give me something more in return.”
“What do you want?” I cross my arms, looking at him.
“Your word,” he says immediately. “Your word that you’ll give this marriage a real chance, at least until the end of our honeymoon. Spend time with me, as my wife, not as a captive. And…”
My jaw works at his words, while my arms fall to my sides, fists forming. “And…?”
“And,” he continues with a slight smirk, “You’ll stop fighting me every step of the way. For this one night and for our honeymoon, be my wife. One who’s happy to be marrying me. Then—”
“Then we’ll discuss a possible annulment…” I mumble, thinking it through.
He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “Then we’ll discuss an annulment, but until then, you’re stuck with me as your husband.” He reaches out, taking my hands in his.
“Let me get this right. In exchange for my polite and happy behaviour starting tonight, and then going through with the honeymoon, you’ll consider an annulment?”
“Exactly,” he says, his thumbs brushing over the backs of my hands.
“Two weeks of playing the loving couple, both in public and private, enjoying a vacation in the tropics, no work, no distractions—only me and you, giving this a real chance. And at the end of the honeymoon, we’ll sit down and see if we’d both like to discuss an annulment. ”
“My vacation from work is for a whole two weeks?” That’s what catches my interest the most. My parents would set me free from our business for that long? I could say yes to that alone in a heartbeat, but I don’t tell Damon that.
“Yes, our vacation is for a whole two weeks. And during that time, you’ll be free from every single work-related obligation. You will spend those two weeks with me, as my wife , and then we’ll see where things stand.” His hold on my hands tightens.
“And you’re gonna fuck me as much as I want?” I smirk, half-teasing and half-dying to feel his body against mine again, but I don’t admit that to him either.
A low chuckle leaves his lips. He leans closer, his voice dropping to that wicked whisper that carries that heated hint of twisted seduction. “Even more than you want,” he promises, his eyes meeting mine with searing intensity. “Though I think we both know who’ll be begging first.”
“Yeah, you .” With that, I pull away from him with a triumphant smile on my face as I walk toward the mansion, letting a butler—how extravagant—help me up the steps.
Damon grabs my wrist when I cross through the open, wide entryway. He pulls me back against his chest. “Don’t keep pushing your luck, Kayla,” he whispers, his breath hot against my neck. “Remember, I’m your husband now.”
I ignore his veiled threat as he releases his hold of me. I’m already stuck in hell, gotten hitched to him. What more could he possibly do?
The butler helps me into the living room.
After thanking him, he bows and leaves. Damon is already by my side by the time I sit on the first comfy seat I see.
I wince at how sore I am between my legs, noticing it for once after the ordeal I’ve gone through today.
So far , I add to that thought, because I still have a reception to deal with.
He sits beside me, his arm slung over the back of the chair, and his hand resting on my shoulder. He must’ve noticed me wince, since his gaze goes down to my lap. A smirk plays at his lips, probably from realizing the reason why I’m sore. Dick .
I ironically play the part of his doting new wife just to try irritating him. “How dashing it is to see you smirk, husband .”
He chuckles, his eyes never leaving mine, and the heat in them burns more with each passing second. “Many women would be groveling at my feet for more. But not you, you’re still full of fight.”
“I’d milk you dry and have you begging me to keep going if I had my way with you.” I scowl at him. “Don’t test me.”
His entire body tenses at my bold words, and he leans in closer. “Is that a challenge, wife ?” His hand slides from my shoulder down to my back, pulling me slightly toward him. “Because I’d love to see you try.”
“We’ll have to try it out during our honeymoon, husband .” I smile slyly.
He returns my smile, his eyes shine with a hint of competitive edge. “Our honeymoon suite is booked for those promised two weeks. I suppose we’ll find out who’s really in charge in the bedroom during that time.”
I smile at that, since it truly sounds like a fun way to spend my upcoming vacation. “But first, we’re going to be the gracious hosts to our wedding reception, where I’ll be by your side, clinging onto your arm, and making sure everyone knows I’m so happy to be yours.” I glare at him.
He adjusts his cuff, smirking at my glare. “Know that every smile and pleasant word you force tonight gets rewarded with”—his voice drops even lower—“a thorough punishment in bed later.”
“Expect it to be returned in-kind, pretty boy.” I stand, putting a finger under his strong jaw.
He captures my finger in his gripping hand. “You’re going to make sure to laugh at all my jokes tonight, aren’t you?”
“Like a good girl.”
“And you’ll smile and wave prettily when I introduce you to our guests?”
“Every single one,” I agree, enjoying this little game we’re playing.
“Good,” he murmurs, one hand trailing down my arm. “I do love seeing you dance on that edge between sweet and venomous.” He leans in close to my ear. “And later tonight, I’m going to enjoy making you submit to me again.”
“Promises, promises.” I wag my finger at him as I stand up and walk away. “Now, where can a girl get a nice, warm bath around here?”
Silently, the butler from earlier shows up and leads me up the stairs. I look over my shoulder to see Damon staring, just watching. He’d be a total creep if he wasn’t so hot and handsome.
It’s hard, but I turn away, looking ahead instead. Following the butler, I find myself walking up a grand staircase and then through a maze of halls. Wonderful, a mouse maze for a house .
The walls are decorated with what I imagine is black market paintings of real masterpieces. Not that I know much about art, but everything about this place screams money, power, and look how much better I am than you.
Eventually, the butler brings me to a bedroom with an ensuite bathroom, where he hangs a few things on the hooks on the wall.
One of them’s another garment bag with the small window showing a muted pink color.
There’s also a fluffy robe for me. Ooh, looks so comfy!
Then he takes out towels from a cabinet, and bows to me before he leaves me here in this over-the-top bathroom.
I didn’t know if I should bow back, so I just frown guiltily at the closed door.
I turn around, looking forward to finally some time to myself. It’s been quite a day.
My frown stays. The bathroom is so over-the-top that it could double as the set of a k-drama, where a brooding billionaire stares at his reflection while pondering his tragic backstory. Which, honestly, fits Damon a little too well .
The floors are a black marble, polished to the point where when I look down, I can see myself in the shiny, dark reflection.
I look up. The unnecessarily wide and heated sink counter has a gold faucet, because, of course, why not, right?
It’s a bathroom, but it’s almost as big as the bedroom it’s attached to. And there’s a centerpiece in here—because of course there’s a centerpiece—which is a freestanding bathtub that looks like it belongs in a museum.
On top of that, a chandelier. Why would someone need a chandelier while bathing?
Rolling my eyes—because, of course, I am now married to the ridiculous man who owns this equally ridiculous place—I finally take my wedding dress off, nearly ripping it. Okay, purposely ripping it. I need an outlet, damn it.
And I sure as hell ain’t keeping my wedding dress as a keepsake to look back to. No fucking thank you.
With a turn of the tub’s handle, steam instantly fills the bathroom.
I step in. The water is wonderfully warm around me as I sink deeper into the oversized tub.
Staring up, I watch the chandelier shimmer. It feels surreal yet utterly relaxing to watch lights sparkle while embraced by warm water. Oh my god, I get it.