CHAPTER 49 - ARIANNA
CHAPTER
Arianna
M Y EMOTIONS HAVE lurched between anger and hurt since leaving Red’s office. Or should I say after he walked out, leaving me fuming.
Being summoned there, believing for all of ten seconds that everything was fine and a truce agreed with Papà, when it was all part of a sick, twisted plan.
Sure, he’d honored the part that Papà would be safe from reprisals he and his band of thugs might offer - because that’s what the Batemans are - thugs, but what he failed to mention was he’d make out I chose to marry him.
He forgot to tell me he planned it to look like we have a genuine relationship.
I pull the bed sheet higher around myself, glowering at the closed door of the en-suite where water still cascades from the shower inside.
Red Bateman can wash away the day’s grime, but it won’t be so easy to remove the knowledge that he’s purposely and cruelly split a family up for no reason, other than spite.
Not that I suspect that’s crossed his mind, the devious, evil bastard.
Oh yes, Red affects my physical senses in ways I don’t appreciate. It shows how dangerous blurring the line between logic and physical is. But how could I be so stupid to forget even for a moment what this man is really like?
The memory of how his mouth felt on mine storms into my head and I shove it away, angry at myself for being such an easily led, weak person.
I didn’t think I could resent this man any more, but I do. I also have the additional bonus of hating myself more than I already did.
I kissed him , and that I can’t excuse.
I pull the sheet even higher over my head in a futile attempt to hide from my shame.
Stupid, stupid.
Everything he’s done - all the things I’d started to think had decent motives were instead part of an intricately planned game to draw me in.
And he succeeded. Red has drawn me in; made me believe he isn’t as bad as his reputation dictates; lulled me into being his puppet, when he’s really only using me to splinter and weaken my family and their connections so he can reap the benefits.
Getting overheated, I tug the sheet off my head and take a long, deep breath of air.
Now I’m trapped; married to an enemy and cut off from my family.
Tears spring to my eyes at the base disappointment in my Papà’s eyes. “You chose to turn your back on your family...”
His words ricochet around my head like poison darts. Red has made my family believe I’m a traitor and betrayed them, when it couldn’t be further from the truth.
My eyes narrow. Red will not win. I’ll find a way to make my family understand what really happened. Yes, it’s true I came here in the first place, but it was to save them . I’ll explain what Roberto did; I’ll tell them the truth about everything . It will work out. It has to because...
Hearing the en-suite door unlock, I stiffen.
Earlier, Red steamed in here in a foul mood. He didn’t even look at me, let alone hear what I wanted to say, but he’s not getting out of it this time. Being as I’m trapped in this bedroom with him tonight for the first time, he’ll listen to what a piece of shit he really is!
A plume of steam escapes from the en-suite as Red enters the bedroom. “I’ve done everything you asked, yet you’ve ruined my relationship with my family. What do you gain from destroying people?”
Red moves across the bedroom, the pure white towel wrapped around his hips accentuating the contours of his muscled torso. “You’re better off not knowing what’s really going on.”
My rant peters out as my blind fury diminishes along with the steam.
What the actual...?
Red continues to talk, but I’m not listening because my traitorous eyes remain somewhere around his well-defined abs, then move of their own accord down his trim stomach leading to the “V” disappearing under the edge of the towel... A line of dark hair runs down from his navel to...
His body... it’s... it’s magnificent !
The suits he wears makes his physique look impressive, yet that’s a mere snippet of what’s actually underneath.
This is not good.
My cheeks are hot. Oh God, I hope I’m not blushing. I can’t give obvious signs that his body is... well...
It is then that what he’s actually said seeps into my wandering mind. Turning my gaze to his face, I immediately wish I hadn’t. His loose hair drips wet trails down his tattoo-covered chest, along with the tattoo I’ve seen hints of underneath his collar.
No! Forget it. I’m not walking into the trap again. I’m not interested in the pictures adorning his body of sin. “You have no right making out I’ve betrayed my family,” I spit, remembering my focus. “You...”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Red sighs. “Give it a fucking rest! I’ve got a splitting headache. I’ve had a shit day and...”
“ You’ve had a shit day?” I scream. “You’ve ostracized me, and for what? Control?”
Red strides over to the wardrobe and pulls out some underwear. I watch him slip the white briefs on under his towel.
“I already control you, Arianna. Believe what you want, but the situation isn’t as clear as you think.”
“You don’t control me!” I scream. “I’ll never be controlled again after...”
“Think what you like.” Red cuts me a withering look. “Whatever it is you do think, save it until the morning. I’m knackered and I’ve had enough of you and everyone!”
My mouth opens to launch into another diatribe of exactly what I’m sick of when he removes the towel and chucks it unceremoniously through the en-suite door. All I can do is stare at his heavily muscled legs and allow my eyes to move up his body where the very distinct and large outline of...
Hang on!
“What are you doing?” I squeak as Red pulls back the bedcovers.
“Getting into bed, what does it look like?”
Grabbing the sheet, I pull it back over myself, the long T-shirt I’m wearing now feeling inadequate protection. “Aren’t... aren’t you putting something else on?”
Flopping down on the pillow next to mine, Red flashes me an unimpressed look. “Why? This is my bed, and now I’m in it. I’ve only put underwear on to be polite. I don’t usually wear any.”
My throat goes dry, and everything else I want to say desiccates and drifts into the ether. I’m grateful when he turns over to face away so he can’t see the fire in my cheeks.
Oh God.
I remain silent. What should I do? Christ, this is dreadful.
There’s no point shouting at him when I doubt I can string words together. Besides, he’s not listening. But how can I sleep with him in here? In this bed. With me ?
I grit my teeth. If I can be so easily distracted, it just underlines how pathetic I am.
I swipe away a thin layer of perspiration from my brow, his scent clouding around me. Despite the shower, the heady aroma he alone has remains.
Holding my breath, I listen. Has he gone to sleep?
He has - his breathing has changed. How can men just go to sleep with the flick of a switch? I’ll lie awake for hours with the frustrations, worries and stress of the day going round my head in relentless repetitiveness, yet he has no cares in the world!
I tense as he snuffles and turns onto his back but can’t help taking the opportunity to study him. It’s easier when his eyes aren’t ripping a hole into the center of my being.
I focus on the tattoo - the edge of what has intrigued me for days. The man’s chest and large muscular arms are covered with tattoos. He’s got many of them, but it’s that one.
I trace the outline of the scorpion on the right side of his chest with my eyes, its sting spiraling up onto his neck. The scorpion is black, and the sting is red.
Scorpio Red - the name of the casino.
Is it something to do with that or a parody of his name - a scorpion with a red sting? A killer filled with red poison.
Him.
Does it mean that? Does it mean anything? What do any of these tattoos mean?
Furthermore, why do I care?
I consciously stop my hand from moving. It was halfway to Red’s shoulder. I shudder, knowing I was about to touch the almost-healed bullet wound .
I focus on the pink, indented flesh of the scar he took for me that night in the car park, and my confusion returns. If Red has the agenda I believe he does, why did he take that bullet and honor everything he’s promised so far, including not laying a hand on me?
Is it possible I’ve got him wrong?
No!
I quickly remind myself of that fact, annoyed that I’m my own worst enemy.
But what if I’m wrong...
And that does look sore...
Before I can stop, my fingers lightly trace the partly healed bullet wound.
What the fuck am I doing?
Not daring to breathe, I snatch my hand away and stare at Red, relieved to see that he’s still fast asleep.
Before I can tie myself into further knots, I turn over and put the light out. I have to sleep and ignore this creature beside me - my husband and the man who contradicts every single emotion I possess.