by Linde, K. A.
“They suit you,” he said, turning my head back to look at him. “As I knew they would.”
“You really picked them with me in mind?” I kept my voice low and silky. I hadn’t believed him when he first said it. But now… maybe.
“I’ve always been a man of action,” he said evenly. “I say what I mean with what I do.”
It should have been reassuring. Instead, it felt like a gut punch. I knew the actions he’d performed. I knew what he’d done. And they hurt worse than words ever could. I took a breath. I wasn’t here to argue. I didn’t want to deal with another argument with him tonight. I just wanted to… not for one evening with him. Neither of us was going to move on from the past. But I’d rather be talking about this than what we’d been discussing back at the restaurant.
“Why don’t we go for a swim?” I suggested.
“It’s December.”
“And? You have a hot tub.”
“You want to get into the hot tub?” he asked incredulously.
“Is it on?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
I stepped around him, plucked the champagne bottle out of the ice bucket, and headed toward the frigid night beyond.
“You know it might snow tonight, right?”
My hand slipped down the side zipper of my dress. I let the skintight dress slowly fall off of my shoulders and down around my hips. I heard his sharp intake of breath. At least he was predictable in that way. If nothing else.
I set the champagne down on the edge of the hot tub, shivering in the wind and cold. I hastily shimmied out of the rest of my dress, leaving me in nothing but a La Perla black silk thong and matching bustier. I was pretty sure Camden was going to owe me a new set. I sank down to my neck, taking pleasure in the heat.
Then Camden appeared in nothing but his black silk boxers. We matched. I would have laughed, but the heat in his eyes was enough to let it die on my lips. He looked… like a god. A Greek god leaving the trappings of Olympus to feast among and upon mortals. His dark hair was slicked back. His strong jawline cut like a razor. The six-pack that ended at the Adonis lines that made a perfect V, low, low, lower to what was hidden by a scrap of silk.
My mouth went dry.
I hated that I wanted him. I hated that we were so messed up. I hated that we were too proud to say any of that.
Camden stepped into the hot tub and sat on a bench in the water. He put his arms up on the edge of the pool. He watched me and waited. I sipped champagne, pretending to ignore him, but his gaze lingered. I determinedly sipped more champagne. I was definitely a little drunk now. I had to be to have even suggested this.
“Is this a game, too?” he finally asked.
I sighed. “It’s not a game.”
“I know you, Katherine. Everything is a game. And I thought that I’d made myself clear that I didn’t want to be involved in your games any longer.”
“If you think that’s what this is, then why are you in this hot tub with me?”
His gaze turned lethal and heated. I could see through the water that my nearly naked presence had the desired effect on him. I knew why he was here.
“My wife is walking around in nothing but lingerie, and I’m expected to stay inside?” he asked.
I finished off my glass of champagne and then slid through the water to stand before him. I moved to straddle him, but his hands reached out and gripped my hip—hard.
“Uh-uh,” he said, holding me in place. He ran circles along my hip bone.
“You don’t want me?”
I knew that wasn’t the problem. Camden had to be in charge. At all times. For all things.
He guided me forward, setting me down on top of him. His cock jutted up against my thin underwear. I fought to keep my face neutral, but I didn’t think that I’d succeeded. Half of me wanted to tear our last bits of clothing off and let him fuck me bare against the side of this hot tub. And the other half of me wanted to slap him across the face for his need for dominance.
“Would you like to know a secret?” He held me firm and moved his lips to my ear. “You, my darling wife, want me.”
It was a secret. One I never let anyone know. Not even my closest friends. Because Camden Percy was a means to an end. He was the man I’d married for money. He didn’t love me. I didn’t love him. Nothing in this world or any other could change that. But… I did want him.
“And you can’t have me,” he said, pushing me backward in the water.
3
Katherine
I stumbled to my feet, caught off guard by the abrupt change in direction. My pulse pounded in my ears and my cunt. Every place he’d touched me was super-heated.
I couldn’t have him.
Yes.
That was true.
Another fact that I knew.
Even if my treacherous body didn’t give a shit that I should stay the fuck away from him. That he only brought me misery. And bruises and welts and… all those delicious things I had somehow learned to crave. Not broken. No. Not like he wanted. I had too much fire in my veins to ever break before him. He liked me more as a wild mustang than a broken stallion.
“You’re an ass,” I spat.
He laughed once without mirth. “And you’re trying to distract me.”
“It was working.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He leaned his arms back against the edge of the hot tub and stared hard into my eyes. “We have to talk about this.”
I poured myself another glass of champagne and guzzled it. “No.”
“You can’t escape it forever.”
I knew that. But I could escape it as long as possible.
“You agreed,” he reminded me.
“And things change,” I snarled back.
He arched an eyebrow. “The contract hasn’t.”
“No, but we have.”
“Have we?”
I bared my teeth at him before whirling away to look out across the Manhattan skyline. So much had changed. Before we’d gotten married, we’d been fucking. It was great. Even though I hated him. But after the wedding, everything had changed. We weren’t the couple we’d been before saying I do.
I heard him shift behind me. His powerful legs moving through the water. Then his hands were on my waist under the water, running down my wet body.
“Katherine,” he purred.
I forced my body still, refused to react.
His nose brushed against the space between my neck and shoulder. My body shuddered involuntarily.
“You have my money. That’s what you wanted,” he said, trailing his nose up my neck to my ear. He whirled me around in the water, dragging our gazes together. “Now, give me what I require.”
I stared into his hungry eyes, saw the monster I’d married, and met him toe to toe.
“What if I don’t?”
He released me, letting the mere inches between us feel like a mile. Then his hand went up to the diamond earring in my ear. “Then these will be the last payment you receive.”
I reared back. “Payment?”
The word was horrific.
“What would you call it?”
“Yes, I sold myself for your money, but that doesn’t make me a prostitute. I’m not subject to your whims. I’m your wife.”
“Sure, Ren,” he teased.
I clenched my fists at my sides. I seethed. “Don’t you dare call me that.”
“What? Only Penn can? Still pining after your long-lost love? Even after he married someone else? Your mortal enemy?” he asked with a sardonic laugh.
“I remember you making me attend their wedding reception,” I said brusquely.
And how it had killed me to watch it and to see them happy together.
I’d liked Natalie once. Before she was a bet that I had to destroy. Before she stole the one pure thing in my life—Penn. I knew that he wasn’t mine any longer, but I couldn’t control how my heart had longed for him for more than a decade. I wasn’t idiotic enough to try to continue the
relationship with him though. He was out of reach now. I knew that.
“Then it shouldn’t matter what I call you.”
“You act as if you’re a saint,” I snapped back at him. “As if you haven’t been fucking your side piece for the last year.” He opened his mouth to say something, but I jumped right over his rejection. “I know you left with her at Halloween. I’m not stupid.”
“I never denied that I left with her. You watched me do it and said nothing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are we done? I’m tired of this conversation.”
“No, we’re not done. You said that you would give me a baby. You signed it in ink, Katherine.” He leaned forward. “I can promise that the practice will be enjoyable.”
“I’m too busy.”
“Busy?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. Living my life.”
“What life?” He huffed in disbelief. “All you do is work out and party. That’s not a life.”
“One, that isn’t all I do. I’m a socialite. I run my social media pages all day. Plus, I help with the animal shelter charity.”
“Your Ears and Tails thing?” he asked with a shake of his head. “We all know that’s just a front, so you and your friends can have an excuse to wear lingerie in public. You don’t care about it. You don’t care about anything, except how you look and how many followers you have. You’re a shallow, vapid Upper East Side princess, sweetheart, and everyone knows it.”
I knew that I had poked the bear. That I’d provoked him into this, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “Just because I’m not running a company doesn’t mean that what I do is any less than your job.”
“I employ thousands of people worldwide. I provide jobs. I provide shelter. I bring in billions of dollars,” he drawled. “You have no ambition. You take some pictures and donate some money. You don’t go to the animal shelter to help the dogs. You don’t care about the charity for more than your party. You’re about to turn thirty-one, and what do you have to show for it? A million followers? Who fucking cares? The clock is ticking.”
“Fuck you,” I said mercilessly.
The clock was ticking. Fucking fuck. How dare he!
I wasn’t some ticking time bomb to use my body for motherhood. That wasn’t how women were treated anymore. Women were successfully having kids in their forties. This wasn’t the fourteenth century, where you needed to pop out ten in the hopes of raising five to adulthood. I had advanced healthcare on my side. I wouldn’t even be considered at risk until thirty-five.
I trembled with rage. And he didn’t even look like he cared.
This was Camden Percy. Right here in front of me. I needed to remember that the next time I considered letting my guard down. He knew how to walk right through my guard and take a machete to my feelings.
I stepped back from him. One step and then another.
“You know what?” I said as I stared back at him. He arched an eyebrow in question. “I was actually going to fuck you tonight. Good thing I didn’t make that mistake.”
Then I climbed out of the hot tub and into the cold. I wrapped a fuzzy robe tight around myself.
“Happy anniversary,” I whispered.
I didn’t wait for his response. I turned on my heel and walked back inside. I dropped the robe, slipped into my dress and heels, grabbed my jacket, and was out of the penthouse before he made it back inside. I took the elevator downstairs, still shaking from the cold… or from the conversation.
My body felt brittle. Like I’d break apart at any moment. It was a familiar feeling. I’d built up walls around myself. A bulletproof exterior to hide the little girl within who had been abandoned over and over again. If you kicked a dog too many times, you shouldn’t be surprised when it bit back.
I flagged down a cab and headed up to my own penthouse. I left the dress, bra, and panties in a trail through the house before I stepped into my shower. I turned it on as hot as it would go and showered off any remnants of the night until there was nothing left. Not a speck of Camden Percy on my skin or on my heart.
But I didn’t cry.
I seethed. I plotted. And I decided then and there how I was going to make him eat crow.
4
Camden
It was three days later, and I was still pissed off.
Our anniversary had gone so wrong. So bloody wrong. It wasn’t what I’d wanted to happen at all. I didn’t know why I’d expected Katherine to react differently. We’d been at odds long before we got married. And we’d both made it worse over the last year.
I ground my teeth together and checked my Rolex for the third time. She was late. We were supposed to already be on the way to my father’s annual Christmas dinner. My father hated when anyone was late. I’d hear about it.
Damn it, Katherine!
The whole thing gave me a headache. It wasn’t as if we could just start over. She’d made that perfectly clear, and then I’d nailed the coffin shut when I pushed her away in the hot tub. I hadn’t wanted to play her fucking games, but I sure as hell had wanted to fuck her. I knew she’d wanted me to fuck her. Still, I couldn’t let her toy with me like she did everyone else.
Maybe it was control. Maybe it was the only way I could have Katherine, without pretense or bullshit between us. I just knew that my cock had stayed hard at the thought of her in lingerie in my hot tub until I jacked off to that image. My cock twitched again, just thinking about it.
This was my curse: I always wanted Katherine Van Pelt.
I wanted to stuff my cock down her throat everu time she mouthed off to me.
I wanted to teach her manners with my hand to her pert ass the next time she tried to play games with me.
I wanted to fuck her so hard that she couldn’t walk to prove that she couldn’t walk all over me.
But I reined it in. Always restrained myself. Never let her see the truth of how much I wanted to take the little perfect princess and break her. Because if she knew, she’d use it, use me. And above all, I could never let that happen. I had to maintain control.
These little indiscretions were enough to grate on my nerves as it was. Late twice in one week was enough to make me want to tie her to the bed until she begged for forgiveness. I’d never heard Katherine Van Pelt beg for anything. But a guy had to have goals, right?
The elevator doors slid open, and Katherine strode into my apartment. She looked like a knockout in a blood-red dress that hit just above her knees and a black fur-lined coat unbuttoned at her waist. Her lush, dark hair was piled high in an intricate design. I wondered how long it would take for me to rip every pin out of it. Her ruby-red lips were pursed, and she arched an eyebrow in my direction.
“Are you ready to go or what?” she asked, slipping her phone back into her leopard-print purse.
“Ready to go?” I asked dryly. “You’re the one who’s late.”
“I was busy.”
My anger unfurled within me. “Busy?” I seethed. “Doing what? You knew precisely when dinner was. Same time ever year.”
She shrugged. “Why does it matter? Let’s go.”
I stepped up to her, nearly touching her. “It matters.”
“Whatever.” She turned away from me. Without thinking, my hand darted out and snagged on her elbow. “What?”
“Where were you?”
“I was working,” she said. Her eyes drifted to my hand. “Let me go.”
“Work?”
She wrenched her arm out of my grip. “You know, taking pretty pictures and responding to followers,” she said, her eyes slaying me. “Isn’t that all you think I do anyway?”
“Fine,” I ground out.
She never took anything seriously. It was all a joke. I knew that this socialite business was important to her. I shouldn’t minimize it, but I knew how much more she was capable of. With that look alone, I knew that she could conquer the world. With an ounce of ambition, she could do literally anything she wanted. Why was she spending her time posting selfies?
Especially when it only brought in about a million dollars a year? I knew she could go through a million dollars a year on clothing alone. My black card was smoking from her expenses.
We headed down to my limo and drove north through the Upper East Side. My family had lived in the same penthouse since the ‘40s when my great-grandfather returned from World War II. We’d slowly bought up all the other apartments that faced the park and torn down walls to make it larger and larger. Renovations were constantly ongoing. My childhood had been full of project after project within the Percy family home. I’d hated it. Not least of all because I had asthma and breathing in fumes and sawdust had made my childhood miserable. As soon as I could get my own place, I’d done it. I’d moved out of this hellhole and into the penthouse on top of Percy Tower at the ripe age of fourteen. Miraculously, my health issues all but evaporated overnight. All those years of my father calling me weak and trying to beat health back into me had been for nothing. Not that he’d ever once acknowledged that it was partly his doing.
My chest tightened as I directed Katherine into the elevator that would take us into the home that I loathed. She must have noticed I was tense because she stowed her phone.
“How long do we have to stay?” she asked.
“Let’s try to make it through dinner.”
She nodded. “There’s a bright side to this.”
I raised my eyebrows in question. “Is there?”
“No Christmas Eve mass.”
I chuckled, surprised by the way she’d so easily defused the situation. “Two hours of midnight mass isn’t your cup of tea?”
“I can think of other ways to use an altar.”
I shook my head, trying to hide my delight. “Sacrilege.”
She just winked at me and then faced forward as the doors opened. She had made me forget what we were walking into. This woman. This infuriatingly irritating woman. I never expected her to get me, but there were advantages to marrying someone in my social circle. We understood each other and how fucked up our childhoods had been.
