Captive- Veiled Desires by Clarissa Cartharn

how she had probably imagined it.
    “How long are you going to stand here looking at her window?” Basil frowned. “I swear you look like a man totally in love.”
    Adam snorted, brushing his remark away.
    “What else would you call a man standing in the dark, at about one in the morning, looking up at his bride’s window?” Basel insisted.
    “A man in deep thought as to whether he’d done the right thing,” Adam replied. “Let’s get back inside before the rest start questioning my sanity as well.”
     
     
     

     
     
     
    He slept with the rest of the men in the common room again. He didn’t want to bother her. But did he want her? He craved her more than he had wanted any woman before.
    He didn’t get much sleep either. He had laid there on his mat, thinking about her for a very long time, imagining unbuttoning her out of her dress, kissing her soft skin, taking her nipples in his mouth, entering her, making love to her.
    He rolled to his side. His cock had hardened at the mere thought of her. He needed to stop tormenting himself if he wanted some decent shut-eye. The wedding was done. Now, the work began. And his first task was to address the matter of the Zawahiris.
     
     
     

     
     
     
    Adam rose tiredly off his mat. The rest of the men had slept well into the morning due to their late night chatter. He glanced down at his wrinkled tux. It hadn’t been comfortable sleeping in one as much as it was strutting in it. He felt the need to get washed and dressed into cleaner clothes. While he’d rather not disturb her, his clothes were still in his bedroom.
    He strolled up reluctantly to his room and stood outside wondering what he should say when he walked in. His hands sweated slightly. He was nervous? He was being ridiculous. She was only a woman and he had bedded many. Why then did his body react differently to this particular one?
    He turned the knob of the door and stepped in. She was dressed in her perahaan again as she sat on a chair by the window, staring blankly out of it. Her bridal dress lay torn on the floor. He instinctively walked up to collect it. She may not have thought much of it but he had taken great lengths to get it.
    His fingers ran over the torn seams. Could they be mended? He hung it over a chair, taking a mental note to get it washed and repaired.
    “Have you eaten?” he asked.
    She didn’t reply, not bothering to pay him any attention at all.
    “I thought we could eat together,” he continued. When she didn’t reply again, he coughed and started towards the door. “I’ll get someone to bring us our breakfast.”
    “Why?” she muttered, stopping him short. “Why would you want to eat with me?”
    “You’re my wife. People expect me to have my first meal as a married man with you.”
    “Marriage? Is this what you people call a marriage?”
    “As far as I know, yes.”
    She let out a little mocking laugh. “I suppose. What would you know of love? What would you know of the importance of a woman’s consent?”
    He continued on towards the door. She was angry. She had every right to vent. Unfortunately, she was the only one he had managed to restrain his rage with, barking his order angrily instead at the man standing guard outside his door. The guard scurried out in fear.
    He slammed the door behind him again, pocketing the key.  He began pulling out his shirt and she crouched back apprehensively when he started unbuttoning his pants also.
    “I need a bath,” he grumbled. “And it so happens, my clothes are here.”
    He grabbed a clean towel from the wardrobe and headed towards the bathroom. He emptied a bucket of water into his bucket shower and then raised it back up again. Tap water was just a few of the many luxuries he had to sacrifice in order to retain the little freedom he had from spies and enemies.
    He had been satisfied with his life, but only until Nora turned up in it. Suddenly, he was more concerned about her than he was of his own safety. There