Chapter Seventeen
Hazel
The ceiling gives away the first fact that something is wrong. Why is it gray? The bedsheet follows. Why is it silky? Then the bed. Why is it so big?
I jolt off the bed, then immediately regret the action as a wave of pain crashes over me. I clutch my head, wincing. This is the last time I’m drinking with Su-mi. I never learn, even after she got me into a stranger’s car on my first night in the country.
Wait. Stranger?
The previous day’s memories rush back to me like a freight train, and I jerk my left hand up at an alarming speed. My heart plummets to my stomach at the sight of the new diamond wedding ring now seated on my finger.
Santa Maria, I’m freaking married. I’m now a wife to somebody’s son.
I wait for the panic to hit me, but it doesn’t, so I sigh in resignation and decide to check around the walls I woke up in. Rain did mention we won’t be sharing the same room, so this has to be mine.
It’s covered in gray with white furniture, like a large couch with matching pillows on it. I run my hand on the silk bed and let a smile fall free.
“It’s so pretty,” I whisper to myself.
I open the door in front of me and a gasp erupts from my throat. A full master bathroom. The tub, big enough for three, sits in the center, installed just a few steps away from the glass-encased shower. There’s a separate area for my water closet, tucked away behind a frosted glass door. I run my fingers over the cool marble edge, my smile refusing to drop. This is perfect for a king’s queen – or, in my case, a billionaire’s wife of benefit. I don’t fail to notice that many of the appliances in the bathroom still have their protective plastic wrapping.
Did Rain get my room newly furnished?
My walk-in closet is a whole new world, bigger than the size of my room in Su-mi’s house. She’s going to freak out if she sees this. Different designer dresses are hung on silver rods, organized by colors and brands while the numerous drawers contain jeans, skirts and other comfortable clothes.
I feel like a child in a candy shop, overwhelmed by how unnecessarily excessive it all is. The floor-to-ceiling mirror reflects my starstruck expression as I take in shelves already filled with the necessary accessories from brands I recognize with my eyes closed.
This looks like a closet designed for me, with the exception of the extravagant dinner dresses and jewelry. Everything else is familiar, from my casual wear to my favorite perfume brands. Some of the items I have on my various wishlists are nestled among the shelves. I wonder if the person who arranged this happens to have the same taste, or if it’s not a coincidence that everything I love is present here.
So are you saying a billionaire stalked you to know what you love? Get over yourself, Hazel.
Even I am stunned by my own arrogance.
I return to my room and tour around it once more, peeping at a sitting area and a big television.
It’s almost as if Rain has given me my own personal home. Or maybe it is my personal home. He probably doesn’t even want to see me for the whole six months. I won’t be surprised if the door after my sitting area is my own personal kitchen.
You know, since he doesn’t want to see me.
Jerk.
I turn the knob with grumbles and when I pull it open, I land myself in a different place than expected.
Rain’s room winks at me, and I give it a look over. His bed is only a tad bigger than mine, but with a brown bedsheet. Just like mine, his walls are painted gray, but for some reason, they lack the life I feel in my room.
I’m just about to shut myself back into my space, when Rain steps out of his bathroom, securing a towel to his waist. My eyes double in size.
I’ll give up anything for a power to disappear. Can the ground just open its mouth and swallow me whole?
That’s a half-naked man! A hot half naked man.
Water droplets trickle from his large muscular chest down his towel and into the place that shouldn’t be named. Not by me, at least . The arrow of his V-cut abdominal muscle points down into the white towel and I swear, I gulped.
Heat gathers deep down in my belly.
When his eyes meet mine, his muscles flex and I itch to stop the water running down his chest with my tongue.
When did all these start?
Hazel, don’t stare anymore. Please don’t stare at this totally gorgeous man who now happens to be your husband.
Whatever happened to ‘ don’t let him know he ruffles you ’?
“What are you doing here?” Rain snaps at me, his voice as hard as his eyes that glare me down.
My brain tries to come up with a response. What am I doing here again? “I … I don’t know,” I rasp.
You don’t know? You mean you somehow managed to open a magic door that lands you in the room of a naked man?
But that’s exactly what happened.
I check behind me. With the door wide open, both the rooms are like a very big one. What is this house?
Rain grits his teeth as he also stares at the door. “Didn’t I lock it?” He asks himself. He turns back to me and waves a dismissive hand at me. “You’re not supposed to be here. Get out so I can lock it.”
I throw him a glare and fold my arms across my chest. “You’re acting like I did it intentionally. It’s my first morning here, so I don’t know where to and where not to go. Don’t tell me you’re one of those cliche men who locks one room in their house and say ‘ you can go anywhere, but this room . ’” I awfully try to mimic a man’s gruff voice.
His face is blank as he replies to me, “Get out, Hazel.”
I sigh.
I should have known better than to expect a humane response from him. I should leave now too. It’s time to stop staring at his chest and wishing to trace his abs with the tips of my fingers.
I wasn’t even that type of person until this morning.
“And I’m uncomfortable with you staring,” he adds.
Men shouldn’t be allowed to talk.
So you weren’t staring?
Well I was, but he has no right to call me out on it. He’s acting narcissist and the snide raise of his eyebrows is proof that he knows I liked what I saw when I checked him out.
“And who told you I’m staring? I’ve seen better.” I try to come up with a comeback.
He gives a mocking scoff. “The drool on your mouth begs to differ.”
My hand rushes to the corners of my mouth to dab it and I glare at him when I find out he’s lying. I wipe my hands on my nightwear.
I glance down at my body and true to God, I’m in my skimpy black chiffon nightwear. I don’t remember changing out of my wedding dress last night. Hell, I don’t even remember how I got here. It’s the second time I woke up in this house and I still don’t know the route to get into it.
Thank goodness that whoever changed me—which is obviously the man in front of me—chose the black one. I’m so obsessed with this nightwear that I have it in four different colors—blue (of course), pink, purple, and green. The pink being purely transparent.
If I was wearing that, I would have died.
“Rain.” My voice is low when I call him. The bearer of the name stiffens, and visibly sucks in his breath as his fingers jerk. I narrow my eyes. This is almost the same way he reacted after I called him during my vow recitation.
Doesn’t he want me to call his name?
My hands roll into a soft ball and my heart beats loud into my ear. “Did you… were you the one who–”
“I can assure you that I do not have all day for you.”
“Did you change my clothes last night?” I blurt out, my face painfully hot.
As insulting as it sounds, it’s only when I say this that Rain sweeps his gaze over me. His eyes linger on my chest and I almost squirm under his stare. I don’t have overly huge breasts, but I’m not flat either. I also have perky nipples that are now starting to poke through the nightwear.
Something like desire flashes past Rain’s eyes, but it disappears just as fast and I almost pout. Is that what he looks like when he desires a woman? When was the last time he desired a woman?
We haven’t talked about what is going to happen with our fake marriage—sexual wise. He didn’t exactly promise me fidelity, so is he going to have intercourse with other women while we’re married?
He takes slow steps toward me and I instinctively hike backwards until my back presses against the door. I take a big gulp when Rain bends closer to my ear and whispers, his breaths fanning me from the inside, “What if I did?”
Oh God!
I should be thankful that despite him being so cold to me, he didn’t leave me in that six feet long wedding dress, but my mind keeps screaming loud into my ears. Rain changing my dress can only mean one thing.
He has seen me naked.
I look everywhere but him. I want to yell at him that he shouldn’t have bothered, that he should have just left me in my heap of lace, and that I could have managed, but every word gets stuck in my throat. Rain straightens while I fix my face on the painting over his shoulder, so my eyes don’t dart to his—still shirtless—chest.
It’s only a little more I can take, Rain. Only a little more.
“If it makes you feel better, I closed my eyes.”
Coldness rushes down my spine like freezing water.
No, it doesn’t make me feel better, foolish man.
On the contrary, it reminds me of how he didn’t kiss me on our wedding day, and how he didn’t notice that a pretty lady in skimpy nightwear was standing in front of him, until I mentioned it.
Did I marry an impotent?
I almost flip him off, but I decide against it. He might get the wrong idea. I straighten my spine and turn on my heels, shutting the door without waiting to hear another word for him.
Not that he’s going to say anything anyway.
Rain Dacosta has probably reached his word limit for the day.