The longer she took to decide, the more I gave up on making any more progress with my wife today. But finally she skirted the coffee table and perched next to me.
I held up a flap of the blanket. “Don’t worry, I’m harmless. I’m still thawing out. You can even pick the show.”
She studied me for a moment, her eyes going back and forth between mine. I thought she was going to insist on the blanket arrangement we had in bed, but she said, “What if I pick a chick flick?”
“What if I like chick flicks?”
She fought a grin. “What even is a chick flick?”
“Die Hard?”
She laughed, carefree, just like outside, and scooted close until she was under the blanket. I leaned forward and grabbed our drinks.
She accepted hers and flipped through the options, her shoulder bumping mine as she took a sip, her body heat seeping into me. I soaked her up, every bit she was willing to give.
“How’s this?” she asked as if I didn’t want to haul her on top of my lap and taste the hot chocolate on her tongue.
I didn’t bother to read the title. “Perfect.”
Chapter 8
Savvy
My sister pounded on the bathroom door. “Are you hiding in there?”
“Of course not, Pearl. Wait your turn!”
I’d only been done for the last twenty minutes, sitting on the toilet because I’d forgotten my clothes to change into. Twenty-plus years of getting myself dressed in my room was a hard habit to break, but I’d been doing well in the few days I’d been sharing a room with Xander. With my husband. The husband I couldn’t bring myself to change in front of.
It was hard enough not to climb him like a sexy telephone pole after sitting next to him for two hours watching . . . I couldn’t even remember what we’d watched. I hadn’t paid attention to the show. All I remembered was picking something I knew didn’t have sex scenes that’d make a pleasant afternoon uncomfortable.
That’d happened anyway. He had been solid next to me. A wall of cozy muscle and a blanket of heat that put my mother’s cashmere throw to shame. There was no reason I couldn’t have curled into him, slipped my hand under his shirt and felt his hot skin on mine. No damn reason.
But I hadn’t.
Just like I slept between the sheets and he slept on top, not pushing me, not cajoling me, not pressuring me in any way to do what we’d done only minutes after saying I do.
Confusion swirled inside of me. Why couldn’t I bring myself to be intimate with him again? Every time I looked at him, I noticed the way his broad shoulders filled a doorway, or how his hair flopped over his forehead and blunted the hard edge of his manliness, or the way he walked with a swagger that made desire coil in my belly until I wanted to match his swagger with a sultry saunter until we met in a flurry, seeking pleasure at each other’s expense.
Yeah. Why couldn’t I do that?
He could have any woman he wanted and he’d married me. I didn’t want him to only be with me for the money. Yet I wasn’t exactly enticing him with X-rated sex.
Whatever you’re comfortable with.
He’d said that to me in the suit shop. What was he comfortable with? We shared a room, pretended our marriage was real, and then we built snowmen and watched movies together. We might be husband and wife, but we were, at best, friendly. A one-night stand, stuck together and trying to make the best of it.
There was another knock. Couldn’t a girl get any privacy in her own home?
Maybe if I had my own home, I would. But I’d need a well-paying job first to afford anything decent in the city. I had an okay-paying job, but I hadn’t worked any hours yet. Chief had been hinting hard that I should make an appearance at the office soon.
“Wait a damn minute, Pearl.”
“It’s me.” Xander’s deep rumble stirred up the butterflies in my belly.
I sank my head into my hands. The start of this day better not be a sign of how this party was going to go. “Sorry.”
“Can I get you anything?”
I was about to announce that I’d forgotten my clothes, but the words wouldn’t spill off my tongue. I’m twenty-five, dammit, not five. I don’t need a man to save me.
Obviously, I did, or I wouldn’t have this gold band on my finger.
I glanced at it for a moment before I squared my shoulders and rose. Ensuring the towel flap was tucked in above my breasts and wouldn’t fall in the middle of the hallway, I opened the door.
Xander’s gaze dipped to my cleavage, then drifted down. Yet he didn’t go running like Pearl claimed he had when he’d encountered her in the hallway.
I smiled with a serenity I didn’t feel. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. Just have to get dressed.”
I wasn’t the only one. His pristine white shirt hung loose over the half-buttoned slacks of his tux. A bow tie was draped over his neck. Did he need help tying it? I could probably YouTube how to do it.
He followed me back to the bedroom and as we got closer, the swirls in my stomach went wild. I wanted to shove a hand through my hair, but it’d been flat ironed and secured in an elegant bun. I dropped my arm.
“I can wait out here while you finish up,” Xander said quietly.
The image of him lingering outside my door, looking bored and sexy, was enough to get me past the last hurdle of shyness. He’d already seen everything, and I didn’t need my parents questioning this whirlwind relationship they had readily accepted.
“No. Come in. You can help with my zipper.” How did I manage to sound so casual? I had to drop this towel to put that dress on. Though I’d rather drop this towel and take his shirt all the way off and run my hands over his rock-hard abs.
We slept next to each other, but I couldn’t bring myself to find out if our chemistry had been that off the charts or if it’d been the hard cider. Having sex would complicate our simple arrangement. Stay married. Get the trust.
I crossed to the closet where my almost-a-wedding dress hung. Mother had exquisite taste. The color wasn’t so white that I’d mock the virginal bride look while washing myself out, and the silver butterfly accents running crosswise from shoulder to waist picked up the colors around it. In my room, they had a hint of sapphire, and the thread connecting them took on a brown hue. The effect paid homage to my love of nature and was Mother’s way of ensuring I didn’t snub the dress.
The tulle on the skirt was loose enough that I’d be comfortable and could leave the Spanx in the drawer. It was sleeveless and the bodice had a wraparound appearance that stopped at the waistband. I could even wear a seminormal bra.
Mother knew what she was doing.
Sneaking a peek out of the corner of my eye at Xander, I relaxed. His back was turned as he tucked his shirt into his slacks. I used the moment to toss my towel in the laundry and slip on white lace underwear and a matching bra.
Taking the dress down, I slipped it over my head. I got lost in the poofy skirt and struggled with the zipper. Whispers of fabric could just as well be shouts while I searched for the elusive flap of the zipper.
“Here.”
Xander’s wall of heat hit me and I froze. His capable hands picked through the fabric until he found what I couldn’t. He undid the zipper and bunched the dress up, then held it up to help me slip it over my head.
I suppressed a shiver as his fingertips grazed my shoulder. “Help women into fancy dresses often?”
The breath of his chuckle wafted over my nape as he worked to straighten the material in the back. “You’re the first, but maybe I missed my calling. Hold still.”
I did and he zipped up the back and hooked the zipper. I exhaled. The fit was perfect.
Neither of us moved for a heartbeat. He traced his fingers over the fabric, brushing my skin. I swayed back, seeking his heat, and my eyelids drifted shut. I missed his touch. Our night on the couch had included layers of blankets and clothing, not skin on skin.
He dipped his head down, his lips grazing the bare part of
my shoulder. With only the faint touch of his lips, I was ready to strip down and demand he put his hands all over me until we were both shaking. It scared me more that not only was the sexual explosion between us real, but it was more powerful without the dulling effects of alcohol.
“Xander,” I whispered, not knowing what to say.
He wrapped a hand around my waist and pulled me into him. “You look fucking gorgeous,” he murmured against my neck.
I tipped my head to the side. “It’s the dress.” I barely had on more than a few swipes of mascara and lip gloss.
“It’s not the dress, Savvy.” His grip tightened and I was pressed into his body. “When I turned around and saw you in nothing but a bra and underwear, I about came in my shorts like a damn teenager.”
“They’re barely more than plain white underclothes.” I bit my bottom lip, loving every word, afraid to believe them. The chemistry was there. What did I do with it?
“I wasn’t looking at those.” His lips brushed a path of wildfire up my shoulder until he landed on the shell of my ear. “I want to taste you again.”
My hands fisted in the gauzy skirt. Yes. Please. “The party . . .”
“Fuck the party, Savvy. What do you want?” He skimmed his hand up my bodice and splayed his fingers across my chest. My nipples hardened until they ached, until the bra I had thought comfortable only a few moments ago chafed unbearably.
“I want . . .” You.
He slipped his hand into my top until he cupped one breast. A groan resonated low in my throat as he nibbled on my ear.
I tried again, licking my dry lips. “I want . . .” I wanted to ditch this party, just like he did. I wanted to forget that I was an aimless environmentalist going to a celebration bash that was nothing but waste. I wanted to forget that I’d panicked and married the first guy I’d met because I wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Chief. I wanted to get to know the guy I slept next to every night.
I wanted . . . our marriage to be real.
The words clogged in my throat. We were together for the money.
“Sav!” Pearl called. “Wasn’t I going to do your hair?”
“Shit.” I’d forgotten to let her know I’d decided to go with a simple bun. “Sorry, Pearl, I already did it,” I called.
Xander didn’t let me go, but he removed his hand from my chest. “Say the word, and we’ll leave when you want to tonight.”
“You don’t want to go?”
“I’m going because of you. But if you don’t want to be there, we won’t be there.”
I spun in his hold. “I have to.”
“Do you?”
I blinked but before I could ponder whether I really had a choice or not, Pearl knocked again. “Did you do a low ponytail again? You know you look like a renaissance boy going to his bookbinding apprenticeship when you do that.”
A laugh sputtered out of me, more at Xander’s perplexed expression. “She’s not wrong.” I reluctantly pulled out of his embrace. “The party will be fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this stuff my whole life.”
He dipped his head and I turned away before I could tell Pearl that I didn’t care about my hair, or the party that was for my parents’ benefit and not mine. I turned away before he could see that I wasn’t brave enough to step out from under my family’s umbrella when he’d been doing that for the last ten years.
Xander
My tuxedo was comfortable enough and I didn’t make the bow tie tight enough to choke me, but I wanted to dismantle every stitch and burn it. The few times I’d had to don a tux before hadn’t been as uncomfortable as this one.
It wasn’t the impeccable fit or the silk lining that was like heaven on my skin—Mrs. Abbot had spared no expense. It was the fact that I was the only one in a suit like this. Same for Savvy and her outfit. We didn’t exactly stand out, but everyone knew we were the couple du jour.
Friends and associates of the Abbots mingled in designer suits and cocktail dresses that would fit the red carpet. Women in slinky gowns that hugged bodies of all ages stood in groups, holding champagne flutes, laughing while the soft glow of the chandeliers lit their highlights and sparkled off the jewels adorning their necks, ears, wrists.
Cream fabric covered the tables and chairs, and the drape over each chair was secured with a sapphire-colored rope. The ballroom screamed money and elegance. Both things I didn’t have.
I’d grown up with money, but Dad had raised us like we had to work for every cent that was already in the bank. I’d hauled manure, worked cattle, and cleaned the damn toilets.
Had anyone in this crowd scrubbed shit-stained porcelain?
Three women zeroed in on Savvy and Pearl as soon as we entered. Savvy didn’t have a chance to formally introduce me. The ladies evaluated me like a prize bull. I missed what they murmured to Savvy, but from their approving expressions, it was good. Then they carted Savvy off in a whirlwind of giggles and expensive perfume.
Mrs. Abbot took pity on me and guided me through the crowd. She introduced me to the owner of a new bank going up on the north end of the city, the headmaster of the private school the three Abbot girls had gone to, and Emerald’s husband, Carter.
“Nice to meet you,” I said and extended my hand. Carter was a lighter version of Lex. Same build, same crew cut, but unlike Lex, his expression wasn’t frozen in arrogance.
Carter shook my hand and looked over my longish hair that Pearl had gelled until I looked like I walked off a Mad Men set, then studied my rigid stance. Whatever rubric he used to evaluate me, I either failed miserably or passed with a perfect score. “Nice to finally meet you. Chief’s told me a lot.”
“I can imagine.” If Carter worked at Abbot Security, then yes, he knew all about me. But his tone said he didn’t hold it against me. Neither did my last name impress him. Savvy had pegged Carter wrong. I could tell a minute after meeting him that he was nothing like Lex.
Carter turned his congenial smile toward Mrs. Abbot. “I’ll track Em down for you.” He walked toward a group of women that must contain his wife, leaving me alone at Mrs. Abbot’s side.
“Oh, there’s Walter.” Mrs. Abbot curled her hand around my elbow. I let her guide me toward a crowd that was laughing boisterously.
Lex stood next to Chief. He was the first to spot us. I didn’t like the Cheshire cat grin that spread across his face as soon as he saw me. Tension crept up my spine, making me stand straighter.
What the hell did that bastard have in mind?
Chief’s grin, at least, was genuine when he saw us. He ignored his wife and held his arm out for me, beckoning me into the fold.
“There’s my new son-in-law,” Chief boomed, his strong arm clutching my shoulder. “Xander King of King Oil.”
Nothing about me was “of King Oil” except my Dad and the small amount I still had left in the bank. This time next year, I’d have a shit-ton of money thanks to King Oil, but I’d feel less guilt about each dollar of those millions than the meager amount I was sitting on.
Introductions took place, a round-robin of names and titles thrown at me. One was a barrel-chested man about Chief’s age. General Something Or Other. Darren Cornantzer was about my age and in military intelligence, and the third gentleman also had a military background and was affiliated with West Point. I was the only member of the group who hadn’t attended the military academy.
The general was the one who asked the question I dreaded whenever I had to socialize with Dad’s associates. “So, Xander. Tell me, what do you do?”
“I’m a photojournalist.” Like always, I kept the answer simple and hoped there were no further questions.
“What do you cover?” Darren asked.
I went through the usual song and dance. International locations that have no other notoriety than their residents and the struggles they face. No, I hadn’t been featured in any reputable publication. No, I didn’t work for anyone.
“What branch of the military where you in?” This was the We
st Point guy. Based on the rigid stances and close-cropped hair of the men in the room, I was one of the few, if not the only, nonmilitary men here. I was sure many of the women were military too.
“I didn’t serve,” I said. I had no excuse. Recruiters had approached me in high school but I’d grown up getting told what to do. I’d wanted freedom after graduation. “I needed more flexibility with my travel.”
That earned me a laugh.
Lex swirled the wide-bottomed glass in his hand that held a giant square ice cube. An old-fashioned. “What’d you go to college for again?”
The tone of his voice sent prickles of awareness down my spine. It wouldn’t be hard for someone like Lex to dig into my school records and find a whole lot of nothing.
“I started in business media.”
The men lifted their chins, waiting for more that I wouldn’t give them.
“What degree did you end up with?” Lex took a sip of his whiskey, his glittering blue eyes pinned on me, his expression smug.
I wasn’t about to confess to this group of men something my own father didn’t know. “Nothing that sounds impressive.” I opened my mouth to excuse myself. Unlike my wife, I didn’t have to put up with men like Chief or their attitudes. I could go where I wanted when I wanted.
But Lex beat me to the punch. “You did graduate, didn’t you?” He laughed, and glanced around the group. “No need to be modest. The man that married Sapphire Abbot must have some impressive initials behind his name. How would you travel the world otherwise?”
I stuffed my hands into my pants pocket and bowed my head. At my side, Chief’s eyes narrowed on Lex. Chief might not like the tidbit Lex was gleefully revealing, but he had an image to uphold, and more importantly, a client to attract—my father.
True to form, Chief joked, “His last name is credential enough.”
As the group laughed, I gave Lex a perfunctory smile. “Good thing I never claimed to be anything more than humble. If you’ll excuse me.”
King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) Page 10
