Page 51 of Tethered Souls

“Fuck it,” I mutter as I grab a handful of random dresses off the rack. The worst thing he can do is slam the door in my face. It’s not like that’ll change our relationship at all. But the best-case scenario is he lets me in – both into his study and into the first of his ninety-nine walls that are erected all around him. Barbed wire and armed guards and mines buried every step of the way.

This arranged marriage could be something then. Maybe. Potentially. Hopefully. And then I wouldn’t just be awomb.I would be a part of this family. Because although a Shadow doesn’t divorce, they do commit murder.

Scooping up the bottom of the dresses with my left arm while still holding the hangers in my right, I make my way over to my door. Then down the hall. Up the stairs. I stop at his office. Taking a deep breath, convincing myself this isn’t a dumb idea, I kick it in lieu of knocking.

“Can I come in?” I say.

There is utter silence.

I wait patiently, thinking maybe he is just finishing a page or a report or whatever it is he does in there. But the time ticks into clear “fuck off” territory.

My irritation growing, I kick the door again, still gently though. Like a lady. Wearing combat boots. Aimed to go up his ass.

My skin prickling despite knowing Sau is out right now, meeting Stefaan to go over the final details of the party this evening, I turn to glance over my shoulder just to double check she isn’t here to witness my unladylike behavior. At the sight behind me, I jump out of my skin even though outwardly, I don’t flinch.

Varius is right fucking there, walking towards me from the direction of the bathroom.

Ah.

I awkwardly hold up the dresses, lifting both of my arms. “I need help picking out a dress since you ruined my first choice.”

“Ask my mother.”

“She’s out.”

“Text her.”

“I thought it would be nice if we matched.”

“I’m wearing black. It’ll go with anything.”

He goes to move past me, but I not so subtly shift in front of him, blocking his reach for the door. His eyes narrow on me, and although my pulse spikes at the base of my throat, I don’t flinch away. Don’t give up a single inch of ground. Nor do I kick him for being a fucking neanderthal about this even though Ireallywant to.

I smile sweetly. “Well, I’d like your opinion on which one you’d like.”

“I’m too busy to watch you try on dresses.”

“You only have to give a two second opinion for each one.” I quickly glance at the pile. “That’s only ten seconds of your time. I can get in andoutof these on my own.”

Ha! Idiot.The shift of his eyes as his gaze roams down my body tells me I have him. I keep my face carefully free of my internal gloating about how easy he is to manipulate. At least when it comes to his dick.

“Fine.”

He reaches for the door again. I move to the side with a small smile. He enters first, and I’m right on his tail in case he had the bright idea to slam the door in my face.

I kick the door shut gently behind me as I sweep my eyes around his office. It’s a lot cozier than I expected with a well worn sofa pressed up against the right-hand wall and an abstract painting hanging up behind the desk. I stare at it, wondering what he likes about it. Personally, I have always been a paintings of stormy seas and smirking ladies in bold yellow dresses kind of girl.

Crossing the room, he moves behind his desk. He opens his laptop and promptly ignores me, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

Telling myself it’s too late to wuss out now, I place the five dresses on the sofa. My cheeks heat as I think about stripping in front of him. Although he’s seen me naked multiple times, there’s a very big difference between him tearing my clothes off before or after doing the same to his and me taking them off in front of him. While he sits at his desk. Fully clothed.

Shit.

Come on, Micha. You can do this.

Breathing deep, I decide to just go for it and bend down to grab the hem of my simple blue dress – one of the many ones I’ve been forced to wear this past week. I start to yank it over my head in one quick movement, but just as it passes my knees, he says, “Slower.”

My cheeks heat as my head snaps up to look at him, my arms frozen where they are, my body hunched. His eyes are on his computer screen. His fingers are still tapping away. But there’s no denying his attention is onme.