Page 35 of Ruthless Lord

“Just so you know, I’m very open to trying new things, and I have an extensive and flexible palate.”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” I want to straight up die. “Where are we going?”

“I told you already. We have business.” Stefano steers me away from the main ballroom and into a quieter back room. There are paintings of old dead presidents hanging on the walls. A big set of French doors leads into what looks like a tea room, clearly not in use at the moment. He shoves me inside, whirls around, and jams a chair to keep them shut.

“If you’re about to assault me, I think you should know that I’m a very good screamer.” I back away as he turns to me. “I can be extremely loud.”

His lips quirk. “I’ve heard you scream, wife. I’m aware.”

My cheeks flush, but I keep staring at him hard. “I’m being serious.”

“Relax.” He brushes past me, deeper into the room. “I just figured you’d need a break.”

I glance at the doors. I could easily move the chair and leave. It’s not so much keeping me in here but keeping everyone else out there.

Which is honestly refreshing.

Stefano drifts over to a set of decorative shelves. Dozens of teapots cover them, all totally different from each other. Some glazed, some rough clay, others clearly very, very old. He picks up a few, and I struggle not to say anything, but I can already hear his retort.Always follow the rules, rich girl?

“Where have you been all night, anyway?”

“The bar.”

“That’s kind of a cliché, you know. New husband getting drunk on his wedding night? The ending practically writes itself.”

He plunks down a teapot, the lid rattling, and looks back at me. “Are you trying to make a whiskey dick joke?”

“Not so much a joke, but—” I cross my arms and shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. Not like we’re doing that anyway.”

“I promise you,wife?—”

“You keep saying that word like it’s an insult,” I mutter, glaring at him.

“—I have no problem performing no matter how much I’ve had to drink.”

“Good for you. I bet all the ladies love it when you’re wasted and sweating on them.”

“Is that what it was like with me?”

I can say with absolute frankness that no, it was not even remotelylike thatat all. But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

Instead, I change the subject.

“I assume, since the wedding happened, you dropped off the paperwork with my family’s lawyer.”

“That’s right. He practically came in his pants from excitement.” Stefano gives me a lingering stare before wandering around the room again, back to his default state of boredom. “I take it, since you melted in my embrace up on that altar?—”

“Not the words I’d use!”

“—that you haven’t forgotten what I said to you earlier.”

He’s not looking at me, but I feel extremely seen. It took a lot of guts and poise to face him down in nothing but a scrap of silk and bobby pins. I’m pretty sure the girls that did my hair and makeup snuck off to the bathroom to masturbate while thinking about Stefano’s dirty mouth the second they were finished with me.

At least Emily had the good grace to look mortified.

“I also remember telling you multiple times that sex isn’t happening.”

“I’m going to offer you a deal.” He clicks a teacup, making it rattle in place. I’m pretty sure it’s at least a hundred years old. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying anything about it. “Would you like to hear it?”