14. Rufino
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rufino
O n the jet Verity is sulky and quiet. It’s not a long flight, but I do my best to make her comfortable. I arrange for her to be served a massive burger and crispy fries. The best food for a hangover which she is suffering from. She eats in silence but enjoys it.
She is refusing to look in my direction - as defiant as ever.
I notice with amusement though that she’s still wearing the wedding ring. I half expected her to throw it at me by now with the way she is carrying on about everything. Earlier on I even caught her looking at it and turning it on her finger. That slight gesture gives me hope that she’ll relax and accept this for what it is.
She has no choice about the marriage. It’s already done.
She can fight this as much as she wants. I’m not ending our marriage.
She is my wife.
We arrive at my second mansion just outside the city. The one I use when I need some time alone, away from people and especially my brothers.
She sighs loudly when she climbs out of the car, reminding me she’s mad at me.
I slip my arm around her waist walking up the steps towards the front door. She doesn’t push me away. If she was that angry with me she would have shoved my hand away right away.
I see it as a good sign.
She has a right to be angry, anyway. I locked her in the trunk of my car to drive her out of Las Vegas without causing too much of a scene. I couldn’t have her sitting on the front seat trying to open the door and roll out or something ridiculous like that - something I one hundred percent would expect from her.
She steps into my home, which is now her home too.
I close and lock the door behind us.
“The entire place is a fortress, my love. You are free to escape - but I assure you it won’t be possible.”
“We’ll see about that.” She hisses, then marches up the stairs. “Where can I find a shower?” She blurts out, glaring over her shoulder at me.
“Second room on the right. You’ll also find a full closet of clothing in your size.”
Her mouth drops open. “How long have you been planning this, Red?”
Cute. She called me by my nickname. That means she’s still into me.
I grin.
“Since you told me your father had booked your flight to Europe.”
Verity blinks several times in quick succession. Her mouth still hanging open in shock. Then she shakes her head and storms away.
I better give her some time to herself. At least, now that we’re home, I don’t have to worry about her going anywhere.
The next few days test my patience in ways I never imagined were possible.
Verity is a nightmare.
She’s like a little demon temptress running wild in my house.
She fights with me, provoking me every chance she gets. And she’s damn good at it. She knows what she’s doing.
Then she taunts me with her body and makes me forget why I was getting angry in the first place.
Every conversation is around the fact that I forced her to marry me and I am now holding her prisoner and not letting her live her life. She doesn’t seem to get that the moment I let her go - her father is going to send her away. She should appreciate what I’ve done for her - not be fighting me on it.
I’m standing in front of the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish making my cappuccino. It’s late, and I’ve already had too many of these today, but I need one more. I’ll call it a coping mechanism. The caffeine helping me stay a little sharper to deal with this new challenge.
“You tricked me. You forced me to marry you.” She snaps.
I turn to face her, my fists clenched at my side.
“I didn’t force you to do anything. No one held a gun to your head.” I snarl, glaring down at her. She is standing with her hands on her hips and that look on her face that confuses the hell out of me because it annoys me and turns me on at the same time.
Her little nose is scrunched up and her lips are pouted out as she throws me a look of pure thunder. They always told me dynamite comes in small packages. But Verity is more like a nuclear weapon waiting to detonate in my life.
“You didn’t even ask me. And - and - and I was so drunk. I was in no state to be making important decisions that affect the rest of my life.”
“And and and.” I roll my eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” She punches my arm.
I chuckle and her eyes flare darker.
“You’ll have to do better than that.” I smirk.
She shoves both of her hands hard against my chest and tries to push me, but I don’t budge an inch.
“Ugh.” She huffs, stomping her foot. “You’re so annoying.”
“And you’re so little.” I tease her making the situation worse.
She tries to push me again but this time I grab her wrists and lift her onto the kitchen counter. She squeals when I push her legs apart and stand with my hips between them, grabbing her ass and pulling her right up against me.
“I didn’t see you complaining on our wedding night.” I whisper against her ear and she digs her nails into my back.
“This is cheating.” She says breathlessly.
I sigh, my body yearning for her and wanting to share that with her, not all of this heated tension. I hate the fact that we’ve been doing nothing but fight since she got here.
I lean back to look into her eyes.
“Verity, don’t resist me.” Those eyes of hers sending shivers down my spine and haunting thoughts through my body.
“Then let me go.” She whispers in response. The complete opposite of what I want to hear.
A low growl rumbles from my chest and my jaw muscles feather in agitation.
“I will never let you go. When will you accept that?” I snarl.
She pushes me away again and I step back, utterly exhausted by the looping conversations.
“Why did you have to marry me, Rufino? What was the point of it?” she moans. “You could have just kidnapped me without all the rings and commitment and things.”
She’s still wearing it. Despite all of her protests - she is still wearing it.
I reach up and take her hand, looking at how beautiful the ring looks against her skin.
Bound to me.
How can she not understand? I’ve tried to explain it before but she wasn’t listening. She’s like that when she’s angry. I don’t think she hears a work I say to her. But I’ll keep telling her repeatedly until she hears me.
“Because now that we are married no one can take you from me. No one would dare. You are my wife and I decide what happens to you. Without my permission your father can never send you to Europe.”
“ You decide? What - like you own me?” She says in anger.
I move close to her again, my face inches from hers. “Correct. I do own you, Verity Vece.”
“ No one owns me .” She shouts.
She kicks away from the kitchen counter and storms out. I hear her marching up the stairs and it sounds like she’s crying which crushes me.
For a moment I stand with my eyes closed and my hands pressed against the counter, my head hanging low in defeat.
Dammit.
This is not going how I planned for any of this to go down. I assumed she would be overjoyed to be living here with me. At least once she got over the fact that I put her in the trunk of my car.
But she’s fixated on the trap of marriage, as she keeps referring to it.
Trapped .
I understand her frustration. It’s not like I wanted to rush into marriage either. It’s so official, so final. But I want her. I want to be with her, and this was the best way I could achieve that.
The risk of losing her was greater than my fear of marriage.
The reality of her emotions sinks in.
She believes I’ve clipped her wings.
Perhaps I have in a way.
But it’s not in the way she thinks. I never want her to change or stop being her wild self. That’s what I love about her.
That spontaneous unpredictable girl I met in the club.
I sip my coffee, letting time slip away, giving her space to calm down before I make my way upstairs. I pause, listening to figure out if she’s still angry.
I push the bedroom door open and step inside.
She is lying face down on the bed, her shoulders are shaking with tears that are still falling.
I sigh and sit down next to her, pulling her into my arms.
“Vixen, you’re right.”
She huffs.
I stroke my hand over her hair and hold her tighter against my body.
“You’re right - no one owns you, not like that .”
She says nothing, but I can feel her relaxing in my arms. She’s not fighting me or pushing me away which is a good sign.
“I did what I thought was right - so that you and I could be together.”
I whisper, as though I am trying to calm a wild horse, my voice is soothing, and my hands are moving gently over her.
“I never wanted to lose you - the thought of you going to Europe - I couldn’t let that happen.”
Verity isn’t crying anymore.
I hear her take a deep breath.
“I know.” She says, her words muffled against my chest.
“What do you know?” I ask, leaning her away from me so that I can see her face. She scowls at me and buries her face into my chest again. I chuckle.
“What do you know, vixen?” I ask again.
“I don’t want to go anywhere without you either.” She confesses and my heart melts at her words.
“So, then we can make this work. Stop being so full of attitude all the time.” I laugh, teasing her.
“Attitude? You’re holding me prisoner - what else am I supposed to do?” She snaps.
Fuck.
I always say the wrong thing.
She shifts away from me and folds her arms across her chest, determined not to make eye contact with me.
After staring at her for a while I grin, knowing how to fix this.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
I watch her eyes sneak a peek towards me.
“Chinese?” I say, still grinning.
No response.
“Pizza?”
Her eyes drift towards me again.
“Sushi?”
She bites her lip.
“Sushi. Mm. Ok. I can make that happen. Let me go downstairs and order some. Why don’t you hop in the shower, the hot water will help you relax. Then get into those comfy pink sweatpants you look so cute in and by the time you come downstairs the food will be here.”
“And a movie.” She demands, trying to hide her smile.
“And a movie. I’ll pick one for us. Netflix and sushi. It sounds like a perfect evening with you.”