Chapter Seventeen #2
“She’s going to go after him,” Pax said, as if we’d been in the midst of a conversation before and he was picking it back up again.
I just blinked at him.
“Who?” I asked.
“Olympia. After what she saw this morning, the way she reacted, you know she’s going after Cosmo.”
I frowned and took another sip of whiskey.
“Most likely,” I admitted a moment later.
“And you aren’t going to do anything about it?”
“Olympia is angry but she isn’t stupid. Whatever she does to him, he won’t even know until it’s too late,” I said and hoped it was true.
“I can send Nick and Cleo–”
“Nick and Cleo won’t be able to stop her and you know it. We have to trust her, Pax. She’s family.”
“She’s–”
“Family.”
My tone was firm. Paxon got the hint and dropped it.
Truthfully, I’d be a fool not to worry about what Olympia would do to the head of the Vipers.
She’d never liked the man and seemed to despise him even more lately.
I wasn’t sure why that was. I was sure she’d discovered something about him she hadn’t known before.
Given her reaction and who Cosmo had proven himself to be as of late, I knew it couldn’t be positive.
I knew well enough to know that when Olympia set her mind to something, there was no avoiding it.
Whatever she would do to him, she would do, and we would have to deal with the fallout.
I could only pray she’d be smart enough not to start an all out war in the process.
Though I couldn’t help but think that’s where we were headed anyway, with or without my cousin’s intervention.
Paxon moved on from the issue of Olympia easily enough and instead asked if now was a good time to go over the family accounts for the month.
He apologized for asking on my wedding day, it hadn’t been his intention, but now that everything had happened to call off the festivities and I was drinking alone in my study, there was no time like the present.
I agreed perhaps too eagerly and dove right into the accounts for the next several hours with my cousin who’d taken on the role of steward as well as assistant.
We sent the acolytes away when they fetched us for dinner.
There was too much work to do and neither of us had much of an appetite anyway.
Seeing a teenager’s head roll across the Deck would do that to you.
So we worked until it was done and then called it a night long after the sun had set.
I felt a twinge of guilt as I made my way back to my room for the night and remembered I wouldn’t be alone in it.
I hardly felt the shame, however, for the nerves.
I took a steadying breath at my door before reaching for the knob. After a moment’s hesitation, I knocked. It swung open in an instant.
“I could hear you breathing out there,” Isla said, frowning at me from inside. “Did you just knock on your own door?”
“I didn’t know if you were…” I trailed off, my eyes dipping from her face to the long cream nightgown she wore which pooled on the floor around her feet.
“Naked?”
I gulped.
“Would it matter?” she asked, brows furrowed as if that were a genuine question. “You’re my husband now.”
Right. I was. And a husband saw his wife naked all the time, wanted to even, and didn’t knock on his own damn door.
“Can I come in?” I asked and felt stupid the second before she cocked a brow.
“Now you’re requesting entry to your own room,” she deadpanned.
“It’s your room too. I’m trying to be…respectful.”
“Respectful,” she repeated, as if confused by the word choice.
Silence fell between us for a long moment.
When she finally raised a brow, I realized I was supposed to have entered by now.
Clearing my throat, I slid past her into the room.
I heard the click of the door as Isla closed it behind me.
Shoving my hands into my pockets to fight the nervous energy surging through me, I headed for the closet on the opposite side of the room and strode inside, hoping my movements appeared far more casual than they felt.
“Milo,” Isla said my name from beyond the door a moment later.
“Hmm?” I called, trying to keep my voice steady, calm.
“Do you want me to remove my nightgown?”
I stilled, fingers frozen over the cufflinks they’d begun to take off. Slowly, I made my way back to the threshold of the closet and looked out at her where she stood in the center of the room, chin up and eyes boring into me.
“I know my duty as a wife,” she spat before I could say a word. “I know what’s expected of me, but if you have any preferences–”
“Geist, Isla,” I swore, nearly collapsing against the doorframe.
Her brow furrowed as she watched my reaction.
“What?” she asked.
“I just came into the room,” I replied, shaking my head and exhaling.
“Should I have already been–”
“No. I–”
I cut myself off, crossed the room, and reached out to take her hands.
Her eyes darted to the contact and then back up to mine as if assessing for some threat my heart broke to think she might be imagining.
I pulled her slowly toward the edge of the bed where I sat before gesturing for her to join me.
She only hesitated for a second before sitting beside me.
“How was your day?” I asked in the most gentle tone I could muster.
She blinked at me, entirely caught off guard.
“My…day…” she started, watching me with a wariness she’d never worn for me before.
I nodded and gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Well, I got married,” she said and I grinned at the humor. “And then a boy was beheaded and my husband came back covered in his blood before vanishing into his study all day.”
My smile faltered.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’m not used to someone waiting for me to return.”
She just watched me, all traces of confusion or concern vanished from her expression. It was just blank, as if she truly didn’t have the slightest clue how to interpret what I was saying or, more accurately, what I wasn’t doing.
“Milo,” she said carefully after a moment. “You know we’re supposed to…”
“I know,” I replied and then reached up to rub the back of my neck with a hand as if I could dispel the discomfort. “But that isn’t exactly how I envisioned my first–”
I stopped abruptly, eyes blowing wide as I realized what I’d almost said. Unfortunately, she’d been able to fill in the blanks if her dropped jaw was any indication.
“Were you going to say this is your first time?” she asked.
Her shock wasn’t doing my embarrassment any favors.
Mortified, I practically leapt off the bed and paced to the opposite side of the room, as far away from her as I could get.
I rubbed my palms together and blew out a breath, searching for something to say that might make this whole situation more tolerable for either of us.
“I–it never…came up,” I answered after a moment that stretched entirely too long.
“It never came up? What does that even mean?”
“I never exactly had an opportunity to…I’m not completely ignorant. I understand how everything works. And there was a thing with a girl at one of your grandfather’s parties. She…I’m not really comfortable discussing it.”
“Well, get comfortable,” Isla said, crossing her arms. “She what?”
“There were…er…oral–”
“She blew you.”
I sighed, throwing my head back and staring up at the ceiling while I sent a request for any gods who may or may not exist to kill me now.
“Did you like it?” Isla asked slowly, taking a step toward me.
I couldn’t help the snort that escaped me.
“What kind of question is that?” I asked.
She grinned.
“One that lets me know you’re interested,” she replied.
“I’m interested,” I replied. My gaze dropped to the low cut of her nightgown as she stepped closer before I could help it.
Then I ran a hand over my face and backed away.
“But I’m not the sort of man who forces a woman into his bed, Isla.
Expectation of consummation be damned. I don’t want anything from you until you want it too. ”
She hesitated, steps faltering where she’d been drawing closer, and her lips parted in the barest hint of surprise.
“But you’re my husband,” she sputtered for the first time. “I’m supposed to—”
“I’m not starting our marriage out by destroying your trust and violating your body, Isla,” I said, my tone firm, unyielding.
She stared at me in disbelief and suddenly anger was rising within me toward whoever had filled her head with such powerless drivel. I’d never seen Isla cower before anyone or anything. I’d be damned if she did so before our marriage bed.
I gave her a moment to let my words sink in, as well as the realization that I truly wasn’t going to go through with it if she didn’t want to. She glanced toward the bed and stared for a long time before turning back to me.
“Who was she?” she asked then, her gaze narrowed. “The girl who blew you.”
I barked out a relieved laugh and her lips stretched into a warm smile.
Before I knew it, we were both in hysterics, doubled over and gasping for breath as the events of the day melted away in the peace of each other’s company.
And I thought, as I watched my wife wipe tears from her eyes, there wasn’t another sound in all the world quite like Isla’s laugh.