Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
IMOGEN
The sparkling silver gown shimmers as I study my reflection in the full-length mirror tucked away in a corner of my bedroom. A slit in the material runs up one side of my leg, ending at my hip. It’s daring and decadent, and I love it. I wouldn’t have the courage to wear something so revealing outside of the house, but I guess it’s different at Oakleigh.
Three days have passed since Alexander sent Emma home. I’ve explained things to her as best I can, although it’s difficult because Alexander hasn’t fully explained it to me, other than his comment about Emma getting in the way of us and this new path we’ve both decided to tread carefully upon.
While my best friend fully supports my decision to give my marriage a chance—providing I can land that job with Zenith, too. I refuse to give that dream up—I wouldn’t be surprised if she retaliates in some way the next time their paths cross.
Saskia appears from the bathroom wearing a floor-length crimson gown that shows off her hour-glass figure to perfection. She returned home from her business trip on Wednesday and, according to Alexander, she’s not due to leave on another one for a while. I’m glad. It’ll give us a chance to properly get to know each other.
Moving behind me, she smiles at my reflection in the mirror. “You look beautiful. Alexander’s going to lose his mind.”
I blush, ducking my head to hide the tell-tale pink cheeks. I hope he does. The last time I put this much effort into my outfit, he barely gave me a glance. Things are different now, though. This morning, when I asked him over breakfast if I could invite Vicky to the regular monthly dinner, he agreed without hesitation. And while he’s been busy with work, every time we’ve come into contact, there’s a growing ease between us.
“You look stunning, too. Then again, you always do.”
“Pfft.” She slices her hand through the air. “You should see me some mornings. Swamp witch has nothing on me.” Pointing at her perfectly styled hair, she adds, “The horses would mistake this for a haynet first thing, which is why I never go near the stables until I’ve tamed it.”
I giggle. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’m only sorry I’ve not been here more often, especially to help you settle in. But at least I’m around for the foreseeable, unless another emergency crops up.”
We make our way downstairs to the dining room. Unlike last month, I arrive before Alexander, and as stupid as it sounds, I’m giddy thinking about what he’ll say or do when he sees me. If I get another “nice” or he completely ignores me, I may cry… or slice off his nuts with a carving knife. Probably the latter. I’ve never been the kind of girl brought to tears over every little thing .
“Imogen, wow!” Vicky comes toward me, arms outstretched, and she wraps me in a tight hug. The ease with which we bonded on Tuesday hasn’t dimmed, and I feel as though I’m with someone I’ve known for years. There’s something about her that’s warm and familiar, like looking in a mirror, although visually, we’re nothing alike. She’s dark-haired, olive-skinned, and tiny. I’m red-haired, pale-skinned, and more than half a foot taller.
“I’m so glad you could come. Sorry for the short notice.”
“That’s okay. It’s great to see you.” She glances around the room. “Where’s Emma?”
“Oh, she had to go home earlier than expected.” The lie trips off my tongue, but I don’t regret it. Vicky already thinks badly of this family. There’s little to be gained from giving her more ammunition.
A movement to my left catches my eye. Alexander.
I hold my breath, more anxious for his visible approval than I’m willing to admit to myself. He says something to Christian—hopefully in relation to Zenith—then moves through the room as if he’s walking on air. He nods curtly to Vicky, then knits our fingers together.
“You look stunning, Imogen.” He so rarely uses my name that I widen my eyes in surprise.
Vicky mutters an, “Excuse me,” and melts into the background, joining her sister on the far side of the dining room.
“Or do you prefer Little Pawn?”
I clear my throat. “Imogen works.”
He smirks. “I’ll save my pet name for when it’s just us, then.”
When his father arrives, Alexander pulls out a chair for me. I take a seat, pleased when Vicky sits next to me .
Christian barks out a laugh. “Demoted again, I see. First Imogen, now Victoria.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this was your seat.” Vicky pushes back her chair. Christian puts his hand on her shoulder. “I’m teasing. Stay where you are.”
He takes the chair next to hers. I catch the merest glimpse of Nicholas glowering at his brother, but then Elizabeth says something, and his scowl smooths into a faint smile.
How interesting. He could be playing the part of protective soon-to-be brother-in-law, but I’m not sure. Then again, he was given the choice of bride, and he chose Elizabeth, so I’m clearly reading into something that isn’t there.
Steaming bowls of French onion soup are set down in front of us, bubbling with cheese and smelling divine. As I dip in my spoon, Alexander’s hand runs up my bare thigh where my dress is cut to my hip.
“This is awfully convenient.”
I flash a glance at Vicky, but she’s not paying any attention to us. When Alexander slides his hand between my legs, though, I clamp them shut. He leans close to me, his breath tickling my ear.
“Either open your legs for me, or I will bend you over this table, and you will open them for everyone.”
A rush of lust hits me in the abdomen, and my muscles contract. He’s teasing. At least I think he is. It’s hard to tell with my mercurial husband.
“We’re at dinner,” I mutter.
“So?”
I glance around the table, settling my gaze on Charles. “Your father?—”
“Isn’t paying any attention to us.”
It’s true. Charles is deep in conversation with Nicholas and Elizabeth sitting on his left. To my right, Christian is regaling Vicky with some tale or other, and Saskia is teasing Tobias over his rather gaudy bow tie.
“Open your legs, Imogen.”
Fluttery sensations fill my chest. This is wrong, illicit, and yet I can’t stop myself from parting my thighs a few inches. It’s enough for Alexander to go exploring. When his fingers dip inside my panties, I suck in a breath.
“Eat your soup.”
How does he expect me to eat with his fingers penetrating me like this? I’ll either burn my mouth or spill soup down my chin.
His thumb grazes my clit, circling, flicking. He curls his fingers, pushing air from my lungs with a whoosh. Vicky glances at me.
“Hot, isn’t it?”
She’s not wrong, even if she is referring to the soup rather than my husband’s exhibitionist tendencies. I’m hot enough to melt. Perspiration beads between my breasts and along the nape of my neck. I can’t do anything other than nod, and thankfully, she returns to her conversation with Christian.
Alexander must be ambidextrous because he’s eating his soup with his left hand while fingering me with his right, and all the while maintaining his composure.
I’m a few seconds away from coming when Vicky knocks over her glass of wine. It lands in my lap, soaking me. As I jump up, Alexander’s fingers slip out of me, and I bang my knee on the underside of the table.
“Ow.”
“Oh, my God, Imogen. I’m so sorry.” Vicky grabs her napkin and dabs at my soaking dress. “I’m such a klutz.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” The dress will survive, but I’m not sure I will. My body is crying out for release. So close. So… close.
“I’ll go and get changed. Excuse me.”
“I’ll help you.” Vicky hustles me out of the dining room, still uttering apologies, but as soon as we move out of earshot, she flashes me an awkward look. “I hope I did the right thing.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I saw what Alexander was doing to you. Ugh. What a pig.”
“So, you… you spilled the wine on purpose?”
“Yes.” She grimaces. “Sorry about your dress. It’s only white wine, so it should wash out all right.”
A laugh bursts out of me, and once I start, I can’t stop. “Oh, Vicky, you are such a good friend, but I was fine.”
Her lips purse, the action reminiscent of sucking on an extra tart lemon, and what Tobias said about her at the ball comes back to me, making me laugh even harder.
“You… liked that?”
I grin. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Hard pass.”
“You sure? What if it was, oh, I don’t know… Nicholas?”
It’s a risk, but I want her to know she can talk to me. After what she saw Alexander doing to me in the dining room, we’re past the point of embarrassment.
“Nicholas is marrying my sister.”
“I’m aware. But… do you wish he was marrying you?”
The slight hesitation before she answers must only last a second, but it’s enough for me to know I’m right.
“Like I said to you on Tuesday, Beth will make the perfect wife for Nicholas. That’s why he chose her over me, and my parents agreed. ”
“But…”
She sighs, her shoulders rounding. “It’s for the best.”
“For who? Not for you.”
Her smile is tinged with so much sadness, it breaks my heart. “I’ve never told anyone this, but you’re right. I’m in love with Nicholas. I have been for a long time, but there’s nothing to be done. When Elizabeth turns twenty-one, they’ll marry.” She shrugs. “He made his choice, and it wasn’t me. As far as Nicholas is concerned, I don’t exist.”
Despite my damp clothing, I pull her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
She clings to me for a moment, then lets me go and shrugs. “It is what it is. I love Nicholas, but I love my sister more, and as long as he treats her right, I’ll have no complaints.” With a grin, she adds, “And that means no fingering her underneath the table at a family dinner.”
I bite my lip, chuckling. “We’re besties now.”
She links her arm with mine and heads for the stairs. “Besties.”