Reckless Love: A Wife for Hire Novella

Chapter 7

Worth the wait.

Those three words tumbled over and over in my mind like a jar of rocks polishing. But unlike the shiny stones revealed from the process, Wick’s words only got more confusing the longer I tried to figure out what he’d meant.

I’d woken up in my husband’s arms, having fallen into a deep sleep after he fucked me. The ache in my pussy was the only evidence of our night together. Wick must’ve stayed awake to clean up the mess between my thighs, because none of it existed when I sleepily blinked into consciousness.

I’d stirred, needing the bathroom, and I’d taken the time to clean up my face. Sleeping in yesterday’s makeup had left me looking like a rejected clown from a Halloween haunted house.

Seeing Wick awake when I exited the bathroom was a surprise, but he quickly told me to get ready. That a car would arrive soon to take us home. And then he left the bedroom to get ready in the guest bathroom at the entrance of the suite.

I’d stood there for a minute, wondering where the guy from last night had gone, before I turned on my heel and quickly grabbed my bag to get ready for the day. Within an hour, we were ushered toward the back of a black SUV that would take us to our Park Avenue home.

A driver softly greeted us, opening my door while Wick went around and got in on the street side. By the time I fastened my seat belt, Wick was already on his phone, listening to messages he must’ve missed during our wedding.

Sunday morning in the city was sleepy as the car drove north, and I wondered how often Wick worked through the weekends.

Ruining the livelihood of people must be an all-week-long type of job.

Bitterness festered in my chest as I turned away from him, wishing I could pull out my own phone, but I’d stupidly packed it in my overnight bag that was in the cargo space. Unless I wanted to climb over the row of bench seats behind us in a pencil skirt, I was out of options.

Not that I had anyone to text or call, but there were several levels of candy that needed a good crushing.

Quietly sighing, I settled myself against the buttery leather seat and watched the colors of the city melt together as we drove. Leaning against the headrest, I let my eyes drift closed as the motion of the car rocked me in a state of relaxation.

When the SUV stopped, I didn’t immediately stir, and I was surprised when I heard the driver speak.

“Sir, shall I?—”

“Have our bags brought to the front desk, Marcel,” Wick cut him off softly. “I’ll take my wife upstairs.”

Marcel cleared his throat. “Of course. Congratulations again. I know what this means to you.”

Wick was quiet. “She means everything to me.” Then he was opening the door, letting in the sounds of the city for a brief second before it was muffled again by the closing of the door. My eyes fluttered as my own door was pulled open.

Wick leaned into the car, a soft look on his face. “Time to wake up, sweetheart.”

“I’m awake,” I insisted. When he reached for me, I tried to brush him away. “I can walk.”

He quirked a brow. “I’m aware, but I figured it was tradition and all.”

I glanced over his shoulder at the shiny glass doors of the building where the driver—Marcel—was bringing both of our bags to one of two doormen. “Isn’t it customary to carry the bride over the threshold of the home?”

“I own the building.”

Of course he did.

Unable to help myself, I looked at the glass and concrete skyscraper that was trying to kiss the clouds above.

“Shall we, Mrs. Forrester?” Wick gave me one of those seductive smiles that had my brain melting. He didn’t wait for me to answer as he unbuckled me and lifted me into his arms.

“This is embarrassing,” I hissed, ducking my face as two people in sportswear paused their morning jog to let Wick carry me toward the open doors.

“Mr. Forrester,” the first doorman with a white beard and mustache greeted. He held open the door and nodded to the second man, who was disappearing into an elevator on the other side of the marble and chrome lobby.

“Cliff,” Wick greeted, pausing like we had all the time in the world. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Alessia.”

I was sure my cheeks were purple by now. “Hello,” I managed to squeak out.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Forrester,” Cliff said with a grin. “Should you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. And congratulations to you both.”

Wick angled us so he didn’t bang my knees as he carried me inside. The man seated behind the front desk jumped up and hurried to the far elevator, swiping a keycard over the panel. “Welcome home, Mr. Forrester.”

“Thanks, Tom. How are the kids?” Wick asked, still taking his time and still holding me.

“Doing great. Thanks again for the Yankees tickets. The view from your private box was phenomenal. It really made Grant’s birthday.” Tom winked. “And I definitely got some ‘cool Dad’ points.”

“Glad it worked out,” Wick replied with a smile as the elevator doors chimed open. “Tom, this is my wife, Alessia.”

Tom’s green eyes lit up, his smile beaming. “Congratulations to you both. You caught a great one, Mrs. Forrester. Please let me know if you need anything at all.”

“The rest of Alessia’s things should have been delivered,” Wick stated, stepping into the elevator car but holding the doors open with his foot.

Tom nodded. “Yes, sir. We brought them up a few hours ago and handed them off to Lucy.”

“Thank you, Tom.” Wick moved his foot and let the doors slide shut. The car instantly began ascending.

“Lucy?” I asked.

Wick turned, his nose almost bumping mine. “She’s my—our—housekeeper. I wanted to make sure everything was set up for you as you might need it in your rooms.”

“My… rooms?” Surely I hadn’t heard him right.

His gaze shuttered. “Yes. I arranged for you to have your own bedroom, office, and sitting room. I thought it might make you more comfortable while we get to know one another.”

I blinked, stunned. “You don’t want to share a bedroom with me? The contract said…”

Wick’s smile turned playful. “Sweetheart, I’d gladly share anything you want, but I’m not a monster. And I don’t plan on sleeping with you again until you ask, and if you’re in my bed, there will be a lot more than sleeping going on.”

My cheeks flamed crimson as I gaped at him. “You’re not going to force me to?—”

His eyes flashed. “I’ll never force you to do anything.”

Except by my grandfather’s company for pennies on the dollar to force me into marrying you in the first place.

“A lot of the verbiage in the contract is provided by the organization,” he added. “If spouses are allowed to retreat to their own separate corners, then the likelihood of the marriage lasting becomes significantly less.”

I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. “And you’re not worried about that?”

The corner of his mouth hooked up in a smirk. “No, I’m not.”

The elevator doors slid apart, revealing a foyer that opened up into a great room with massive windows overlooking the length of Central Park. The decor was done in muted beiges, golds, and whites. It was, in a word, spectacular.

But it wasn’t the views that had my attention.

No, that was all my husband, who gently set me on my feet.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Forrester,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

I was still reeling from his revelation. “I don’t understand.”

He smirked. “Well, this is the place you and I now reside. Most people call it a home, but?—”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” I cut him off. My heart kicked in my chest. “Did I… Did I do something wrong? Was last night not good?”

Oh, god. Had I been so horrible in bed that he couldn’t even share a room with me?

“What? Fuck, no.” His dark eyes were blazing as he took my hands. “Alessia, you were utter perfection, and I have no doubt that every sexy inch of your body was made for me.”

“Then why…” I trailed off, confused and a little hurt.

Wick blew out a breath and leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine. “Baby, the terms of the contract stipulated the wedding be consummated, so that’s what we did. And, believe me, it was fucking everything.”

“But?” I whispered.

He leaned back. “But, I also know that you just met me. That I’ve upended your entire world.” His thumb stroked the back of my hand. “And I don’t want to pressure you or make any assumptions until you’re ready.”

“So, I get my own room?”

He nodded. “But, Alessia, you having your own space is the only concession I plan to make in this marriage. You will sleep here, in this apartment, every night. And every night, I will show you why I’m worthy of being your husband.”

“Oh.” I felt my lips form around the syllable as I stared up at him.

When I’d signed up to marry a stranger, I hadn’t expected the stranger to be the man who had played a part in ruining my life.

And when I’d married Wick, I’d expected a monster. Or, at least, an egotistical narcissist who only cared about himself.

Both times I’d been… wrong.

Which made me wonder, what else I’d been wrong about.