Page 482 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Mira

I hear my name and open my eyes. I yawn, then sit up and look around. Lights. The entire place is lit up. We’re in queue behind a long line of cars, and the sign on the side of the road says, "Angarrack: Twelve Days of Christmas."

"I’ve heard of this village. It hosts one of the most famous Christmas light displays in the country."

"It does." He nods.

I sit up, take in my surroundings. Edward eases the car forward, following those in front.

We make our way through the quaint village streets.

The display pays homage to the Twelve Days of Christmas with the illuminations counting up from the first day of Christmas.

The houses are lit across rooftops and at the sides, and there’s even a display on the river over which we drive.

"It’s beautiful." I can’t take my gaze off the lights.

"It is," he murmurs.

I shoot him a glance, but he’s focused on the driving.

The sidewalks teem with tourists, families with kids, couples, all taking photographs of the lights.

It’s so festive. I feel like I’ve been dropped into the pages of a storybook Christmas.

Finally, we pass the display with twelve drummers drumming, for the Twelfth Day.

"Oh, I want a picture. Can I get a picture? "

Edward brings the car to a halt at the side of the road.

I grab my phone and step out, then gesture to him. "Can I take a picture with you?"

He hesitates.

"Please?"

He seems like he’s going to refuse, then nods. He gets out of the car and follows me. I hold up my phone, posing for a selfie, then realize he’s standing too far away.

"Come on." I hold out my arm. "I need you in the frame."

He walks over to stand next to me. I bend my head in his direction. He stands stiffly, unsmiling. I reach up on tiptoes and use my fingers to curve his lips. "There, that's better."

I look back at the screen, begin clicking, then freeze, for he’s put his arm about my waist and drawn me into his side. I snuggle in, take a few pics, then show them to him. "Not bad, eh?"

He grunts.

I roll my eyes. "You are the original Grinch, aren’t you?"

He says something under his breath that sounds like 'what-fucking-ever.'

"Do you want me to take your picture?" I turn to find a tiny woman, who must be at least seventy, smiling at us.

She has short grey hair cut in a bob and is wearing a sparkly green dress with black wedges on her feet.

"You look so cute together." Her smile increases in intensity.

"Would you like me to take a picture of the two of you? "

"No, we don’t—" Eddie begins, but I cut him off.

"We’d love that." I hand my phone to her, then step back. He pulls me close again. I wrap my arm about his waist, and he brings his other around the front of my shoulders, embracing me in the circle of his warmth. I draw in the crisp evening air, redolent with pine and cinnamon, and laced with his darker scent. Little goosebumps dance across my skin. I smile, placing my cheek against the steady drumming of Eddie’s heart.

Contentment seeps into my blood. I sigh, cuddle into his side and pose for a few seconds more.

"All done." The woman walks over and hands the phone to me. "Are you on your honeymoon?"

Next to me, Eddie tenses. "Why do you ask?"

The woman blinks.

I dig my elbow into my husband’s side. "What he means is, it's so nice of you to ask. Yes, we are.”

"Oh, isn’t that wonderful." She claps her hands. "Young love, so amazing. Did you enjoy the lights?" She waves her hand in the air. "I head up the organizing committee for the Christmas Lights."

"They are gorgeous," I exclaim.

"This must all seem so quaint to you big city folk. Where are you from?” She beams at Eddie, who makes a snarling sound at the back of his throat.

I nudge him, then interject, “He’s from London.”

“And you’re from the US, aren’t you, dear?" She turns her smile on me.

Edward’s muscles bunch further, and I rush in before he can say something else to upset her. "From New York, and I can tell you, these lights have more character than the Christmas lights on Times Square."

The woman seems taken aback, then claps her hands again. "You flatter us, dear, but I’ll take the compliment."

Tension drums off of Edward. He wraps his arm tighter about me. "We have to go," he growls.

I lean forward and take the woman’s hand in mine. "Thank you so much. We need to be on our way." I lower my voice. "My husband gets churlish when he’s hungry."

"You mean, he's hangry." She laughs. "Please, don't let me keep you. Come again next year." She waves as we make our way back to the car.

Once we’re seated, I turn to him. "You could have been a little more polite."

He sneers.

"No, really; she was just being sweet and helpful."

"She was asking too many questions.” He scowls.

“She was making conversation and being nice, is all.”

“She can be nice to someone else.”

“Would it kill you to be a little more civil to her? She was a sweet old lady. She couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Threats come in all shapes and forms, and when you least expect it.” He sets his jaw. “It’s my job to watch over you."

I throw up my hands. "Nothing’s going to happen to me."

"You bet, it won’t. I’m going to make sure it doesn’t."

We set off again, and when we’re clear of the village and back on the road, I turn to him. "What happened to you, Edward? What made you so suspicious of everyone and everything. Was it the incident?"

When he doesn’t answer, I scrutinize his features. "It was the incident, wasn’t it?"

"Don’t." His jaw hardens. "I told you, I’m not ready to talk about it."

"When will you be ready?"

"I’m not sure."

"Will you ever be ready?" I know I’m pushing him, when I should be giving him space. But I wish he wouldn’t shut me out.

I wish I didn’t have to second guess his reactions.

I want to be understanding, but I'm only human. And his wife. And he’s, my husband.

I trust him. Why can’t he trust me? Will he ever trust me?

Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I thought spending time alone with him, away from our day-to-day cares, would help bring us close. Now, I’m not so sure.

I turn to face forward. Darkness has fallen, and the headlights illuminate the road before us.

We begin to climb up a hill, the road winding its way around another village.

The lights of the city below come into view, and beyond that, the darkness of the sea.

Even though it’s too dark to make out the scenery, something tells me the view will be spectacular in the daylight.

It begins to snow again, and by the time I see the sign that says we’re entering Penzance, some of my earlier anger fades away.

I’m being too hasty. We’ve only been married a few weeks.

He’s beginning to open up to me, not by much, but more than when we first met.

I need to be more patient. Also, we’ve only just left London.

We haven’t even reached our destination.

I can’t possibly expect him to open up and spill his secrets while he’s busy driving.

I need to give this... give us, more time. I shoot him a sideways glance, "Thank you for taking me to see the lights, anyway. Especially since, I’m sure you didn’t want to be there."

He raises a shoulder.

"That’s why you drove through the village," I say slowly. "You wanted me to experience the Christmas lights. You knew I’d love it. You did it for me."

He stays quiet, and anger crawls up my spine.

"Oh! You could, at least, take credit when it’s due." I turn on him. Okay, so I’m not as patient as I’d like to be. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? Why do you have to hide behind that severe facade when you’re so much more inside? Why, Edward, why?"

His biceps bulge, and his shoulders seem to swell.

And when he finally speaks, his voice brooks no argument.

"Because I will never be able to love you the way you should be. Nothing you tell me will convince me otherwise. I’m broken, Belle.

I’m not a good man. I’m not the kind of person you want to spend the rest of your life with.

I’m all wrong for you, Belle. I never should have brought you out here. "

His thoughts echo my earlier thoughts, but hearing it from him sends a chill of foreboding through my veins. "Don’t say that."

"You wanted to know more about me. Well, this is it. This is who I am. Cold, distant, unfeeling. Unable to appreciate the kind of woman you are. Unable to give you what you need to thrive."

"I need you," I insist. "I want to be with you."

He turns off the main road and onto a road that curves around the hillside and heads down toward the water.

Below us, the sea stretches out, a mass of darkness, and I shiver.

I wrap my arms about myself. He must notice it, for he flips a switch and the air circulating through the Jag grows warmer.

He positions the vents, so they’re focused on me, then presses the button for the seat warmer.

That’s the kind of man he is, so cued into my needs.

He won’t let me get cold, will make sure I want for nothing… Except maybe, for an emotional commitment from him.

No, that’s not true. Regardless of what he says, we’ve made so much progress.

If not, I wouldn’t be here. If not, he wouldn’t have taken this step of bringing me with him to a place where it will only be the two of us for the next week.

Another shudder rolls through me. This one is thicker, syrupy.

This one is the kind that slides through my bloodstream and coils between my thighs.

He reaches the level of the beach, drives down a road, that's rocky enough to make the Jag bumps as he eases it along.

He finally brings the car to a stop and switches off the engine.

In the silence that follows, broken only by the sound of metal cooling, he stares through the windshield. "Do you really need me, though?"

"Of course, I do."

And when he finally looks at me, the pain in his eyes shoots an arrow through my heart.

"Eddie," I whisper, "what is it? You can tell me anything."

"Are you sure?"