Package Deal

by Jess Bentley

  She holds herself stiffly when we enter the room. The slam of the door makes her jump. “Why are you behaving this way?” she asks. Demands.

  “Strip.”

  Harper’s eyes widen. “What?”

  I rake her with a contemptuous look. “You look like a street person. Wash off the dirt and make yourself presentable.”

  Harper shakes her head. “No. I’m tired of taking orders from you, Jayson.” She holds up her hands. “I like dirt under my fingernails. I feel normal when I’m digging in the soil. You have no idea how much I’ve missed it. I was this person when you married me, and I still am. A person who loves plants. Gardening. Living things!”

  “You defy me?” I never thought she would do such a thing. “You are my wife. Make yourself look like it before we talk.”

  With a toss of her head, Harper turns away. “We’ll discuss this when you’ve calmed down.” She starts toward her room, but gasps when I put a hand on her arm. “Let go.”

  Ignoring her protest and attempts to free herself, I lift Harper and carry her into the bathroom. “Put me down.”

  “As you wish.” I set her down in the shower before turning on the faucet.

  Harper shrieks when cold water cascades over her before it turns warm. “You’re crazy.”

  I catch myself in the bathroom mirror, seeing that a vein in my temple is throbbing visibly. “Wash yourself.” My voice drops an octave as my eyes settle on her breasts under the soaked T-shirt. “Unless you want help?”

  “Get out.” Harper slams the shower door, watching me through the opaque glass until I finally give up and stalk out of the bathroom, unable to rid myself of the sight of her wet chest and hard nipples in the translucent cotton tee.

  Harper

  “Get out.” I slam the shower door, watching him through the opaque glass until he leaves the bathroom. Livid, I get out of the shower, shedding the wet clothes and shoes with some difficulty. Then I return to the stall, soaping with quick efficiency. My heart is racing, and my stomach aches with the effort to keep from screaming. How dare he treat me that way?

  I’m clean within minutes, but as time passes, I find myself dawdling. Now that some of the anger has washed away, I no longer want to rush into a confrontation. Why was I so eager to face him again? The first round certainly hadn’t gone in my favor. I’m still fuming at the treatment, but perhaps it would have been wise to give him time to calm down too. He had shown a depth of anger I’ve never seen before. Surely, he’s realized that by now and is trying to regain control?

  Clinging to that hope, I force myself from the shower. I hurry and dry off quickly, instead of drawing out the process. It only hastens the realization that I have nothing to put on. My clothes are soaked and dirty. A quick glance at the door shows no robes on the hooks, indicating Irina has already collected them for washing.

  The plush bath sheet isn’t exactly adequate armor in which to face Jayson, but the alternative is even less appealing. No way am I going into the bedroom wearing nothing. The towel is long enough to wrap around me twice, and I tuck the end as securely as I can. After running a comb through my damp hair, I can’t find any remaining reason not to leave the bathroom. Taking a deep breath for fortification, I walk from the room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

  It appears Jayson took advantage of my absence to remove his wet shirt. I swallow thickly at the sight of his bare chest, feeling a stir of something other than offense.

  He seems to have regained control. “I owe you a huge apology, Harper. I had no right to treat you that way.”

  I acknowledge his apology with a nod. “Thank you.” Then I look up. “Why did you react so strongly? You know my major was botany. It shouldn’t have shocked you so much to find me in the garden.”

  Jayson runs a hand through his damp hair, further tangling it. “I suppose I could say the sight of my wife on her knees in the dirt made me angry.”

  I nod. “I can see why. You’re used to glamorous women, and I try to live up to that as much as possible.” I shrug. “I just couldn’t resist the allure. I’m sure you don’t understand the attraction, but I have missed it so much.”

  Jayson’s expression tightens. “I saw what was so attractive about the garden, Harper.”

  I blink. “I don’t understand…” I trail off as she realized what he means. “Angelo?”

  “Is he your lover?” Jayson delivers the question in a distant tone, but his body radiates tension.

  “Of course not.” I walk across the room, heading toward the dressing room. “He’s just a boy.”

  Jayson follows. “He isn’t much younger than you. You must find him attractive.”

  I face him. “Yes, he’s handsome. He has the body of a Greek god. Is that what you want to hear?”

  He flinches. “No.”

  “Then stop this. I haven’t slept with him, and I have no plans to do so.” My hand trembles as I reach for a simple sundress. “He’s a nice boy, but no matter how attractive, I don’t want him.”

  “Why not?” rasps Jayson.

  Unable to look at him, I keep my gaze centered on the line of clothes hanging before my eyes. “He isn’t you,” I whisper.

  His ragged exhalation is the only sound for a long moment. The extended silence is unnerving. I busy myself with removing the dress from the hanger and replacing the hanger with exaggerated precision. When he cups my arms in his hands, I sag against him, knowing I’d been waiting for him to touch me.

  As he turns me around to face him, I drop the dress and wrap my arms around his neck. Despite the complications, and how it’s going to break my heart, I want to be with him. Long after their marriage ends, I will have this memory.

  “Harper mou.” Jayson examines my face intently. “You are sure you want this? I worry I can’t stop if you change your mind, so please be certain.”

  I lick my lips. “I’m sure.” Without hesitation, I take the hand he extends and walk with him back to the bedroom. I drop my towel near the bed and watch with silent appreciation as he throws off his remaining clothes. Here is the body of a true Greek god. Every smooth plane and rounded angle represents perfection. When he touches me his hot skin burns under my fingers, but it doesn’t hurt me.

  Jayson lifts me onto the bed, lying down on top of me. As he caresses and kisses me, I drink him in, and my body reaches to his hands. I want to remember everything, to feel everything. The softness of his lips, the heat of his breath. The way his skin tastes. His eyes half-closing with pleasure as he touches me, the knitting together of his eyebrows. The soft reaching of his lips. He kisses down my body, hungrily and expertly. When he finally positions himself between my thighs, poised to enter, I clutch his muscular ass tightly, lifting up to meet him.

  I wince at the pain as he enters me. Jayson freezes, looking down at me with an expression of mingled surprise and wonder. “Harper, mou. Are you a virgin?”

  “Was,” I manage to say while lifting her hips, and enveloping him completely inside. After a brief pause, Jayson begins to move inside me, softly at first, staring in my eyes. When I get used to the feeling of him inside me, and the pain disappears, it’s replaced by curiosity, then by deep pleasure. He reaches down to stroke my clit as he thrusts, kissing me softly. I match his rhythm and we ride our way to orgasm, and the cries he makes when he comes push me over the edge, until I’m falling, falling into stars.

  What could have been minutes or hours later, Jayson rolls to my side, wrapping me in his arms. To my complete embarrassment, tears stream from my eyes. Jayson sits up abruptly. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, Harper.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not that,” I answer in a small voice. A cough clears my throat, and my voice returns to normal when I finally say, “It was wonderful. Amazing. I guess I was just thinking about how this is just a brief interlude. When our marriage ends…” I shrug a shoulder. “I guess I’m just overwhelmed.” That isn’t exactly the truth, but I’m not about to make this mistake
even worse by admitting I’m in love with him and have already started mourning losing him, even before we split.

  He lays his head on my upper arm. “It doesn’t have to.”

  I crane my neck to see his face. “What doesn’t?”

  “Our marriage doesn’t have to end.” He trails a finger across my stomach, making me tremble. Jayson changes positions to straddle me. “Let’s forget the agreement we had and make a new one.”

  Eyes wide, I stare up at him. “We agreed to three years.”

  Jayson shrugs. “Is there some reason why we shouldn’t at least try to have a real marriage?”

  I flounder, not even certain how I feel. It’s tempting to agree, but if we did so, I’d fall even deeper in love with Jayson. If he decides it’s not what he wants, could I stand to be devastated even more? “Why do you want to change things, Jayson?”

  “We’re good together. We like and respect each other.” He runs his fingertips softly down my body. “I think we’re sexually compatible.”

  I frown. “What about more? Don’t you want to marry someone you love?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. We have the foundation laid for a strong marriage. Maybe we’ll even love each other in time.”

  I try to reject the thrill of hope his words bring me. It’s one reckless afternoon. One more time wouldn’t make a difference. “Perhaps. I’m willing to renegotiate our deal. Do you want to add six months?”

  “I don’t think we need to impose a deadline, agape mou.” Let’s just see how things progress.” Jayson slides slowly down my body, placing kisses as he goes — across my neck, breasts and stomach, progressing lower. When he reaches his destination, I become incapable of any further discussion or thought.

  The next several weeks pass in a happy haze. Jayson and I spend most of the days and all of our nights together. Not only are we learning about each other’s bodies,we’re connecting on a deeper level. I’m no longer afraid of how much I’ve started to love him. I’m terrified. If he changes his mind, I don’t know how I would survive walking away.

  The only problem is, that fear still can’t keep me from loving him. I watch him with Sophie, patiently listening to her instructions on where to move the furniture to clear the room for her birthday party that night. It’s a task any of the servants could have done, but Jayson volunteered.

  I’ve dreaded this day coming for a long time. With Sophie turning eighteen, I’m no longer needed. There’s no reason I have to be here. I haven’t been sure what I would do with myself, beyond finishing the botany degree. Now, I find myself daring to tentatively envision a future with Jayson.

  He looks up from sliding a wingchair out of the way and catches me staring at him. Jayson winks before resuming his task.

  Which brings me back to my own work: arranging flowers in the vases around the room. I’m nearly finished when Jayson comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my body to draw me against him. He’s hard and ready for me, as he always seems to be, but there’s no time to indulge in anything romantic at the moment.

  I let out a giggle when he nuzzles my neck. “Stop it. I have to finish this.”

  “It looks fine to me,” he says, running his hand over my breast. “Perfect.”

  “Sophie...”

  “Is busy,” he says against my skin. “She’s with Irina, going over the menu. Again.” He laughs.

  “You don’t turn eighteen every day.” I allow him to turn me around, so I’m facing him. I out down the bunch of hyacinths I was holding to put my arms on his shoulders. “What were you like then? I didn’t really know you.” I’d only been ten and had just started noticing boys. Even then, I found Jayson gorgeous, but he seemed much too old.

  “I don’t even remember being eighteen.” He rests his forehead against mine. “I remember never being able to live up to my father’s expectations.” A sad smile drifts across his lips. “He told me multiple times he was thankful for Dmitri, because I would never be fit to run the Satyros Corporation.”

  I stroke his neck. “That must have been difficult.”

  Jayson shrugs. “It’s the way of many fathers.” His lips firm. “It will not be my way though.”

  “You want children?”

  He quirks a brow. “Of course.”

  I swallow, searching for courage. “With me?”

  Jayson frowns at the question. “Of course, agape mou, but not until I have had you to myself for a long time yet.”

  I tilt my neck and he nibbles the flesh, feeling content. Jayson wants me to have his children. That must be a good sign that we have a strong future ahead of us. As he lifts me into his arms, I wrap my legs around his waist, silently agreeing with the idea to wait a while to have a child. I could spend years getting my fill of his body before I’m ever ready to share the attention.

  He carries me up to our bedroom, closing the door with his foot. I gasp when he pushes up my skirt, bracing me against the wall.

  “I love when you wear dresses.” He strokes my hot flesh. “Along with those silky little panties.” Jayson pushes them aside to touch my skin. I’m already wet and eager for him.

  “Please, Jayson.” I dig my hands into his shoulders as he shifts positions to take a foil packet from the nightstand. When he has it open, I lend him a free hand with slipping it on. “Now.”

  Jayson plunges deep inside me, pushing me against the wall with each thrust. It’s unbearably erotic, to be trapped between the unyielding wall and his almost equally unyielding body. I arch against him, losing myself in the rhythm. I come, once, twice, countless times before he finally lets himself go, crying out in the way I love, and collapsing against me.

  Sweaty and exhausted, but energized, I lay my head against his shoulder, kissing his chest gently. I can’t imagine ever being happier than right now. My only regret is that we wasted three years living as roommates.

  I help Sophie with her hair later that evening, pinning up the black strands into a sophisticated up-do. The younger girl chose an aquamarine gown that’s slightly sexy, but no so much that Jayson would be trying to send her back to her room to change. I press a kiss to Sophie’s cheek. “You look beautiful, and all grown up.” Tears fill my eyes, and I have to blink several times.

  Sophie looks alarmed. “Are you all right, Harper?”

  I nod, wiping away the few tears that escaped. It’s a good thing I’m running behind and haven’t put on my own makeup, or I’d have to redo it now. “I’m fine, and just so proud of you. You are a lovely young woman.”

  Sophie drags her lower lip between her teeth, looking uncertain. “Do you think so? Really truly?”

  I hug her. “Of course I do.”

  With a quick glance around, though we’re the only two in Sophie’s room, the girl lowers her voice to say, “Loukas wants to…you know. I want to as well, but I’m scared.” She looks up, eyes full of fear. “Do you think I’m old enough?”

  I blink. Only five years separate us, but suddenly I feel a thousand years older. “I think that if you can’t even say have sex, you’re probably not ready to.”

  Sophie looks a little disappointed, but nods. “What’s it like?” She quickly holds up a hand. “I don’t want details about Theo Jayson and you, but is it… well, is it what everyone says it is?”

  With a sigh, weighing my words, I answer, “It can be. With someone you love, sex can be amazing. It’s so much more than physical.” I want to roll her eyes since I’m sounding so knowledgeable about something which I only just discovered. “When you find the right person, you’ll know. That doesn’t mean you have to be married to him, but you should at least love him.” Putting an arm around Sophie’s waist, I ask, “Does that help?”

  After a moment, she nods. “Thank you, Harper.”

  “You’re welcome.” I smile, then glance at the clock on the wall. “Now I really have to hurry to finish dressing, or I’ll be wearing my bathrobe to your party.”

  “At least you wouldn’t outshine me,” says Sop
hie, a teasing gleam in her eyes.

  “Darling, no one could outshine you, especially tonight.”

  Despite the time constraints, I dress with care. I want to be beautiful for Jayson, without any risk of outshining Sophie. With that in mind, I choose an elegant, strapless black sheath. It hugs my curves and flares slightly at the hips, and has a satisfyingly graceful swing to it. High heels that kill my feet and the anniversary earrings complete the ensemble. Mascara, black eyeliner, and pale pink lip gloss are all I need with the color I’ve gotten from gardening.

  Jayson likes my hair down, so I leave it flowing to my shoulders, noting in passing that it’s getting time for a trim. I’ve lost all sense of time while on this island, immersed in my husband. Has it really been only three weeks since we first had sex?

  I close the drawer on the vanity and get to my feet, wincing at the heels. If they didn’t do such amazing things for my legs and ass, I’d kick them off and throw them away. Jayson waits in the bedroom, looking incredibly handsome in a lightweight black suit with a silver tie. He growls low in his throat as I walk toward him.

  “Are you wearing those silky little panties I love?”

  With a small smile, I lift my skirt to flash him my lace underwear and garter belt securing black thigh-highs. When he reaches out to touch, I lightly smack his hand away. “There’s no time for that. Yet,” I add.

  With a groan, Jayson offers his arm instead. “You are killing me.”

  I pat his hand on my arm. “You’ll survive.”

  “You’re a temptress.”

  I can’t hold back a laugh, unashamed that I’m silently enjoying his so-called misery. He’s teased me often enough that it only serves him right to turn the tables. Not to mention his blatant desire boosts my ego.

  We get downstairs shortly before the influx of guests. When the doorbell rings a few minutes later, Jayson whispers in my ear. “We would have had time, agape mou.”