Chapter 13 #2
It had taken all my self-control not to ask her every single day since what she’d been talking about. I’d even googled it. But there was nothing online about a traumatic past, so whatever happened to Allegra hadn’t been leaked to the press.
Did it have something to do with her parents?
“I don’t want them to think that by telling them right away, I’m interested in their opinion about our marriage. Because I’m not.”
“Do you think they would contest it?” Sarah asked quietly, seeming to sense the same grief that shrouded Allegra when she talked about Chiara and Wesley Howard.
“Dad? No.” Allegra shrugged, a cynical smirk on her face that didn’t suit her.
“He likes to think he’s down with the working people.
Mamma … Mamma knows she isn’t and likes it that way.
I’m twenty-five. My trust fund is mine, no take-backsies, and I have my own money from my art even if they could, by some miracle, take my inheritance from me.
Which they can’t. My financial advisor has assured me of it.
There was no stipulation on the trust fund.
I can marry who I like. I married Jared.
” Her eyes flickered to me before returning to meet Sarah’s.
“They can like it or lump it, as Mrs. Hutchinson likes to say.” She referred to the head housekeeper at Ardnoch Estate, Sarah’s old boss.
Sarah’s answering smile was half-hearted. “I still think you should tell your parents. I mean … you want people to believe this marriage is real, right?”
“Sarah—”
“You know.” Allegra suddenly stood. “I have a final piece I need to finish for my art show at the end of the month and, uh, I don’t mean to be rude, but this interrogation is kind of messing with my head.
So, um, I’m going to my studio.” She didn’t look at me as she threw in my direction, “I might be home late.”
Surprised by the uncharacteristic coldness and the abrupt way it had come over her, I sat in silence with my cousin until we heard the front door slam shut behind Allegra.
Sarah bit her lip, a slight flush on her cheeks.
“I’m sorry if I was pushing. I didn’t know her relationship with her parents was so bad.
I mean, I know Aria has some issues with her mum, but they still talk.
And she’s close to her dad. North said Wesley was a mess when Aria was kidnapped all those years ago.
She never … she never said Allegra had a difficult relationship with them. ”
I rubbed a hand over my beard, trying to piece together the bits of information she’d given me. “I have a feeling Aria doesn’t know.”
“A feeling?” Sarah let out another beleaguered sigh. “You’re her husband, Jar. You should know if your wife has a difficult relationship with her parents.”
At her pointed look, I turned away. “It’s been nice catching up, but I need to get back to work.”
“Okay.” She stood, not at all put out by my abruptness. Instead she reached over to squeeze my arm. “Be careful. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
“Marriage is trouble?” I joked half-heartedly, trying to maintain the lie.
My cousin saw right through me. “It is if you married for the wrong reasons.”
Hours later, Allegra hadn’t come home. I distracted myself with dinner and cleaning the house.
I’d brought down a load of laundry from my room to do, only to discover Allegra had left dirty clothes in the machine, and a pile of clean laundry on top of it.
Shoving my things in with hers, I’d set the machine and then considered the clothing in the basket I’d laid down on the floor.
Allegra had folded the clothes that were clean and dry and piled her clean underwear on top of that.
I tried not to look too hard at the mix of lace, cotton, and silk as I lifted the basket to take to her room.
It was strange stepping inside what had been Sarah’s room. She and Theo still stayed in here at Christmas. Now they’d be relegated to the attic. I felt almost like I was trespassing in my own home as I entered the bedroom. Allegra’s scent hit my nose as I wandered slowly inside.
She hadn’t changed it much. There were scatter cushions on the bed I didn’t recognize and the duvet was different.
Her things cluttered Sarah’s old dressing table.
Settling the basket of laundry on the bed, I wandered over to the table.
A perfume bottle shaped like a glass grenade caught my attention.
Lifting it up, I noted the word Flowerbomb on it and sniffed.
My gut tightened with need as Allegra’s scent filled my senses. It wasn’t a sweet, light perfume. It was floral but earthy. Confident, assured. Sexy as fuck. Just like the woman who wore it.
Jewelry glinted on the table’s wooden surface, and I lowered the bottle.
There was a pile of rings and earrings scattered across the dresser.
I’d noted Allegra switched up her jewelry regularly, but she had a specific style and taste.
The rings looked handcrafted, some hammered metal, some not quite smooth and perfect like they would be if they were machine-made.
All of them were fairly unusual, either unadorned metal or with small stones. Not outlandish. But unique.
Kind of like their owner.
Near the jewelry was a picture frame. It also looked handcrafted and held within it a photo of Allegra with Aria.
Aria was in her wedding gown and Allegra in a soft silver blue bridesmaid dress.
I’d attended the wedding with a date. Allegra had gone alone.
I could admit to myself my eyes had wandered to her more than once at the wedding.
The dress she wore was made of silk and had clung to her body in all the right places.
She was fucking breathtaking on a normal day, but that day it almost hurt to look at her.
Sighing, I shook myself from the memory and strode back to the bed to take her laundry out of the basket.
Lifting out the pile, I laid it on her duvet but the underwear started to fall. When I reached to stop it, my fingers caught on a pair of barely there lace knickers. Hot blood flooded southward as I swallowed hard and I lifted the pants up with both hands.
Holy fuck.
Allegra was wandering around my house wearing shit like this?
The wife who was legally mine and yet I could not touch was walking around the house we shared with this under her clothes?
The image of peeling the lacy knickers down her toned thighs made me instantly hard.
Fuuuuuck.
I dropped the knickers like they burned, my eyes alighting on a bra in the same material. Lifting it up, I took in the matching bra with a hard swallow. The sheer cups were edged in the same soft pink lace.
Her nipples must be visible through this thing.
Suddenly too hot and feeling like a pervy bastard, I dropped Allegra’s underwear and hurried out of the bedroom with the emptied basket.
“This is fucking torture,” I muttered aloud as I practically threw the basket back in the utility room.
Images raced through my mind that I couldn’t stop until I was restless and agitated and in desperate need of release.
If I stayed in this state when Allegra came home, I knew my willpower would break.
I knew I’d initiate something we’d both regret.
I needed a shower.
A cold, very, very cold shower.
Marching back upstairs, I glowered at Allegra’s bedroom door as I passed and then undressed in my own room. My movements were hurried and furious.
And when I got in the shower, I let those images run riot in my mind. Where they were safe. Where I was allowed to fantasize about my wife in her sexy knickers and bras … and I did it with my hand wrapped around my cock.
Later that night, I lay in bed, body still thrumming with restlessness. Turning my head on the pillow, I reached out for my phone on the nightstand and pressed the side button. The screen lit up.
Two twenty-three in the morning.
Allegra hadn’t returned to the farm yet.
She’d said she was out at her studio and that she might be late … but this late?
“Bloody hell.” I huffed and slammed the phone down. Worry churned in my gut.
This was not supposed to be part of the arrangement. I did not sign up for lying in bed, wondering where the fuck my fake wife was, and feeling rising panic at her absence.
What if she’d run off the road in the dark? The roads to the farm were winding, and arseholes were always driving them too fast.
Or … what if she was fucking someone?
We’d agreed to two months of abstinence to sell our lie … but Allegra had been acting strange when she left. She was upset.
The thought of her in another man’s bed caused me to flush hot from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I hated the idea. It filled me with an indignant rage I attempted to ignore. But it was writhing in my blood as I tossed and turned.
The sound of gravel kicking under tires had me sitting up, straining to hear. My heart thudded hard as I listened for the sound of the front door opening.
It did.
Her quiet, light footsteps caused the stairs to creak as she ascended.
She apparently paused when she reached the top because it was a second or two before I heard her bedroom door open and close.
Her floorboards creaked as she crossed the room and then I heard water running from her bathroom.
Not long later there was more movement as she presumably readied for bed.
The entire time I had to force myself to stay in my own room.
To not confront her.
If I faced her, she’d see the truth.
She’d see my worry and my jealousy, and it would fuck everything up.
How dare she make me worry about her? How dare she make me jealous?
I had to be up in a few hours. I didn’t need this kind of shit keeping me awake. Slumping back onto my bed, exhausted, I decided I’d avoid her like the plague tomorrow to reduce the probability of confronting her. After all, I had no right to.
She wasn’t really my wife. She could do as she pleased.
Though we did have an agreement and she might have broken that agreement tonight.
I flinched at the image that appeared behind my eyes. Of some faceless bastard crawling over Allegra’s naked body. Possessive fury exploded through me as my eyes flew open.
I was so absolutely fucked.