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Tia was everywhere at once, claiming every inch of space in my head regardless of her iciness towards me.
I couldn’t get her out, and something in me didn’t want to.
She was maddening in every way possible, and I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to take.
After getting to know how it felt to touch her skin…how it sounded when her breath caught in her throat at how tantalizingly close we had been…feeling and tasting her mouth on mine…it was too much to ignore.
That moment of agonizing bliss replayed in my mind more often than I wanted to admit even to myself. I couldn’t stop hearing those breathless sounds of hers or feeling the warmth of her body against mine.
After getting that taste, I was drowning in my need for her, and it was driving me crazy.
That exchange ignited that raw and primal hunger within me, and try as I might, it was impossible to shake.
I wanted more…I needed more.
But she was so goddamn stubborn. So persistent in all the wrong ways.
None of it should’ve been a problem. Given how we were married, and everything was set in place, there should’ve been little room left for resistance, especially given how much we clearly wanted each other.
We were bound by marriage, regardless of how either of us felt about it, but Tia was fierce in her resolve.
She knew exactly how to make me want even more, regardless of her intentions.
That night, we were so close to crossing the line and finally sating that long-running desire. It was exactly what I needed, and I swear it would’ve cured me of every problem I’d ever had.
But she stopped me, physically pulled herself away and removed herself from the situation without giving it another thought.
It was like torture, especially when my self-control had already been splintered beyond repair.
Tia had kissed me back; she had given in for a second, but right when I thought I had finally broken through her defenses, it was all over.
She had clearly enjoyed it, which only made the whole thing even more infuriating.
I hated how often my mind went back to that moment, and I especially hated how badly I just needed that relief.
She was a total infestation in my mind, and like it or not, she was there to stay.
Regardless of how intense that moment had been, Tia was back to her cold self, and it was getting increasingly harder not to explode.
But I couldn’t. No…I just needed to try harder.
I needed her to see that she was just as desperate as I felt.
In hindsight, I should’ve expected that utter whiplash, given how she still felt a certain way about me thanks to the arrangement and her unwilling participation. Still, it bothered me.
As prepared as I was to up the ante and continue rolling with the punches just to get on her good side, something in me just wanted her to relent. I wanted her to see that I wasn’t the bad guy, regardless of my involvement in our arrangement.
I needed her to trust me, so I figured a meal was a suitable place to start.
The dining room was fixed up nicely with silverware, candles, and wine, along with whatever decor we had stored away. While I didn’t have a hand in it myself, it looked nice, and even if she still despised me by the end of it, at least she wouldn’t be able to say no effort was put into the meal.
I was after a semblance of civility and peace between us, but of course, I shouldn’t have expected much.
With her arms crossed, Tia sat across from me at the table, and she seemed very intent on not looking at me. Instead, she trained her focus on the centerpiece.
Despite it being only the two of us while we waited for our food to arrive, she didn’t even acknowledge me.
Instead, those pretty brown eyes of hers wanted as little to do with me as she did.
She was driving me so insane that I had half the mind to beg her to look at me, but of course, I wasn’t about to slip up that badly.
Tia had been warm…or at least, almost warm, but at that moment, only a frigid cold was left.
She made that switch back to avoiding me so easily, as if she never let me get close in the first place, like I didn’t already have the feeling of her curves memorized.
As petulant as it sounds, I didn’t like being ignored.
I enjoyed the teasing and the game of it all, as she implied, but it was getting to a point where I was beginning to question my own stamina.
Tia wasn’t all that easy to read, and it seemed she was far harder to impress than I once would’ve believed. It certainly didn’t help my cause, and it didn’t make things any easier.
Eventually, the food was brought out and our plates were placed before us.
My stomach was in knots while I tried to force down that unrelenting need inside me, but I at least still had an appetite.
Tia, on the other hand, just looked down at the food on her plate and hardly touched it.
“It won’t get any warmer with you staring at it like that,” I murmured before taking a sip from my glass, eyes focused on her.
Finally, she looked up at me, but her eyes lacked all warmth. “I’m not hungry.”
“That’s a shame,” I returned, trying not to give away my irritation lingering beneath the surface. The longer she sat there with every intention of acting like I wasn’t even there, the more I longed to watch her squirm. “You’re missing out.”
Tia didn’t say anything again and instead let out a quiet huff.
After another stretch of silence, I began, “You’ve been incredible at keeping me at arm’s length, Tia, but tell me…is it so difficult to have a decent, civilized meal with your husband?”
She flinched slightly at the words, taking a moment to mull over the slightest touch of teasing in my tone.
She likely expected me to be angry at her refusal to cooperate, but it seemed she realized the lenience I was offering her. Relaxing by a hair, Tia sat back in her chair and kept her eyes on me.
We were both aware of how unusual our circumstances were, and as easy as it would be to let my frustration get the better of me, I preferred to take a different approach, to set the stage with some levity instead.
“Maybe if you were the husband I chose,” she returned. Despite the sting in her words, a tiny flicker of satisfaction pulled on her lips.
I could’ve gotten angry…and maybe I should have, given how she still wasn’t acting like the wife I wanted her to be. But I couldn’t help myself.
The challenge was entertaining, and if she was going to make things difficult, then I might as well enjoy it where I could.
“Don’t get my hopes up too much…that stubbornness of yours is starting to make me feel special.”
Tia cocked a brow at that. “Special? You must be delusional, then.”
I grinned faintly at that, able to catch the veiled humor in her words.
Despite her refusal to give me much satisfaction, I still found a way to drink up what little she did offer me.
I hummed and leaned back in my seat, mirroring her body language. “I suppose I am…I’ll be the delusion to your stubbornness, then.”
Without showing me too much, a barely-there smile settled on her lips before she poked at the food on her plate. “At least you’re self-aware.”
That tension between us was undeniable, no matter how she tried to play it off as nothing at all. It was palpable, and it only spurred me on further.
Even if it wasn’t going quite how I envisioned it, the moment wasn’t all bad. At the very least, I could sense the temptation in her…the hint that she didn’t completely hate me.
“Self-aware…charming…and maybe nice enough to want to get to know you,” I said, leaning slightly into the table. I needed an edge, even if I couldn’t let myself go too far. “Given our situation, I figure it only makes sense for us to give it a shot, at least, to make things more bearable for both of us.”
Tia gave me a drawn-out look, almost like she was silently questioning my sincerity.
I didn’t blame her for it, but every shred of my precariously maintained patience was begging for her to at least give me something. Anything.
Though still guarded, she murmured, “You want to get to know me? And what if I tell you something you don’t want to hear?”
It wasn’t much…but it was something. And I was prepared to run with it.
“There’s no need to worry about that. Not when I don’t have any expectations,” I returned evenly, not giving her any reason to doubt me. “Share as much or as little as you’d like, but just know that I’m not one to judge.”
I was fully aware that I had no place to judge anyone…not with the path I was on.
Tia didn’t answer right away. Instead, she drank from her glass and seemed to mull over what I was offering her, deciding if she really wanted to entertain me.
Then, she let out a quiet breath and began, “In all honesty, there isn’t much to know. My dad spent most of his time running his business while my mom pretended like I didn’t exist. When I decided I didn’t want to piggyback on his success, I moved out and struggled on my own, trying to make something happen with my art. It was hard, but it was mine. And, voila…Here I am.”
I found myself hanging on her every word, more intrigued than perhaps I should’ve been by such a surface-level overview of her life.
But I couldn’t help it. In every way, she was beyond interesting to me.
“And how was the art side of things going?”
Tia shrugged, looking down at her glass. “It was fine…nothing to rave about. I sold a few paintings here and there, but I wasn’t exactly featured in galleries, and it wasn’t enough on its own to afford my rent.”
Nodding, I considered the idea. Even if that struggle was foreign to me, I could still imagine how hard that would’ve been, especially if she refused to be in Andrey’s shadow.
“You’re determined in all ways then…that’s admirable,” I complimented her, noticing the almost wistful gleam in her eyes. “But tell me—why not go to your dad for help, if you needed it?”
She sighed and absently rubbed at her forearm, as if the topic was a bit touchy for her. “Because…I wouldn’t be very independent if I ran back to him crying every time something went wrong. And I just wanted to prove I could do it.”
Acknowledging the merit in her thought process, I hummed again. “I see. I could imagine he’d be proud of that.”
She scoffed. “Hardly. He wanted more than anything for me to come crawling back home. Given how easily he married me off to you to somehow benefit his business, he’d rather see me as someone’s housewife than my own person.”
At the mention of the deal, I found myself zeroing in on that. I already had the inkling that Andrey was keeping her in the dark about the true nature of his work, but that only gave me more reason to believe it.
She likely didn’t know a thing about it. And she surely didn’t know a thing about my involvement.
For some reason, that elicited a new response within me…the urge to make sure she remained unaware.
If she didn’t know about the darker side of her dad’s business, or of mine, then it was better left that way.
It seemed like the best way to protect her.
After a moment of considering it myself, I glanced over at her. “Being my wife doesn’t need to be a bad thing…especially when I want you to be more than just that.”
Tia’s eyes remained on mine for another moment, as if testing me. Analyzing me and my intentions all over again.
Finally, she spoke with the faintest edge to her words. “Then stop trying to force some sort of understanding between us…stop trying to fit me into a mold I never asked for.”
As much as her words bit to some degree, a flicker of respect moved through me.
It was the closest thing to vulnerability she’d shown since marrying me, and while it wasn’t much, it was enough.
At the very least, it was enough to instill in me the hope that we’d finally reached the start of something.