scanned my expressionless face. “She is home.” I could hear Mike scream something on the other end of the phone, but Samuel hung up.
We stood across the room from one another, staring for a moment or two. Then he leaped over the desk, rushing over to me and picking me up. Automatically, my arms and legs wrapped around him as he kicked the doors closed, pushing me up against them. After a moment, he brushed the hair out of my face, his cold blue eye searching for something, but he found nothing. His lips grazed along my jaw until they found mine. Then he kissed me harder than ever before. And reluctantly, I kissed back.
“Where were you?” Samuel finally asked when we were naked on the floor.
“Driving,” I managed to say while I stroked his cold cheek. I wondered what else he was hiding from me.
His blue eyes scanned my face as if he was trying to remember something. “You had me worried sick. I thought I had lost you.” He closed his eyes tight, and when he reopened them, they were a little less intense. “I couldn’t remember your face, and it drove me crazy.”
In case you were wondering, he stole that line from Waterloo Bridge , one of my mother’s favorite movies. Brought up in England, she relayed (more like forced) all of her culture to my sister and me. Unfortunately, I was the only one who’d soaked in any of it. And when he said that, I couldn’t believe he was being so unoriginal. Obviously, he didn’t think I was very bright. Otherwise, he would’ve at least said it right, or like Robert Taylor.
“All I could think about was you,” I said with disdain. If he wanted me to smile, he was going to have to live with the disappointment.
He chuckled. “You say that like it is a bad thing.”
I shook my head, closing my eyes to the red-hot rage that was threatening to bubble over if I’d let it. “Why did you do it?” My voice was surprisingly steadier than my insides.
He rubbed my arm, and for a fleeting moment, I felt like strangling him. “Do what, my love?”
“Why did you marry me when you knew how he felt?” I asked, and I knew I didn’t need to clarify who “he” was. Samuel knew.
“I wanted you in my possession,” he said matter-of-factly. My eyes shot open in terror and rage. “That came out wrong,” he backpedaled, but it was too late. He’d already said it.
“You know what?” Ugh! I had no reason to explain anything to him. I was livid.
I got up, grabbed my clothes, and put them on, making sure all the pieces were on the right body part. Everything was just so infuriating.
“What are you doing?” he asked after a long silence.
I rushed out of the study, making my way to the front door. “What do you think I’m doing? Leaving! Nimrod!”
“You cannot leave,” he screamed, wagging his fist at me.
“Watch me!” I hissed, and as I opened the door, he slammed it shut.
“You will not leave,” he commanded, and when I looked into his eyes, everything seemed to go fuzzy, and a cold wind washed over me. “Let me explain,” he whispered. I tried to look away, but I just couldn’t. “When I saw you sitting there in the diner, I was drawn to you, and I fell in love with you. So I had to have you as my wife.”
That was a lie. And I sure as heck didn’t believe him. “I believe you,” I said. Wait. What? I didn’t understand why I told him that. It was not what I was thinking, and it was not what I wanted to say.
“Do you feel bad for Mike?” he asked, and his eyes seemed to go on forever.
Yes, I do, my mind echoed the thought. “No, I don’t.” What was going on? I thought one thing and said another. This was strange for me. After all, I usually say whatever comes into my mind. But it seemed agreeing with him was all my mouth could do.
“Do you love me?” He cocked his head, the coldness making my fingers go numb. And as I stared at him, I realized it was his eyes.
I willed myself to look away, but even that was harder than it seemed.
We stood across the room from one another, staring for a moment or two. Then he leaped over the desk, rushing over to me and picking me up. Automatically, my arms and legs wrapped around him as he kicked the doors closed, pushing me up against them. After a moment, he brushed the hair out of my face, his cold blue eye searching for something, but he found nothing. His lips grazed along my jaw until they found mine. Then he kissed me harder than ever before. And reluctantly, I kissed back.
“Where were you?” Samuel finally asked when we were naked on the floor.
“Driving,” I managed to say while I stroked his cold cheek. I wondered what else he was hiding from me.
His blue eyes scanned my face as if he was trying to remember something. “You had me worried sick. I thought I had lost you.” He closed his eyes tight, and when he reopened them, they were a little less intense. “I couldn’t remember your face, and it drove me crazy.”
In case you were wondering, he stole that line from Waterloo Bridge , one of my mother’s favorite movies. Brought up in England, she relayed (more like forced) all of her culture to my sister and me. Unfortunately, I was the only one who’d soaked in any of it. And when he said that, I couldn’t believe he was being so unoriginal. Obviously, he didn’t think I was very bright. Otherwise, he would’ve at least said it right, or like Robert Taylor.
“All I could think about was you,” I said with disdain. If he wanted me to smile, he was going to have to live with the disappointment.
He chuckled. “You say that like it is a bad thing.”
I shook my head, closing my eyes to the red-hot rage that was threatening to bubble over if I’d let it. “Why did you do it?” My voice was surprisingly steadier than my insides.
He rubbed my arm, and for a fleeting moment, I felt like strangling him. “Do what, my love?”
“Why did you marry me when you knew how he felt?” I asked, and I knew I didn’t need to clarify who “he” was. Samuel knew.
“I wanted you in my possession,” he said matter-of-factly. My eyes shot open in terror and rage. “That came out wrong,” he backpedaled, but it was too late. He’d already said it.
“You know what?” Ugh! I had no reason to explain anything to him. I was livid.
I got up, grabbed my clothes, and put them on, making sure all the pieces were on the right body part. Everything was just so infuriating.
“What are you doing?” he asked after a long silence.
I rushed out of the study, making my way to the front door. “What do you think I’m doing? Leaving! Nimrod!”
“You cannot leave,” he screamed, wagging his fist at me.
“Watch me!” I hissed, and as I opened the door, he slammed it shut.
“You will not leave,” he commanded, and when I looked into his eyes, everything seemed to go fuzzy, and a cold wind washed over me. “Let me explain,” he whispered. I tried to look away, but I just couldn’t. “When I saw you sitting there in the diner, I was drawn to you, and I fell in love with you. So I had to have you as my wife.”
That was a lie. And I sure as heck didn’t believe him. “I believe you,” I said. Wait. What? I didn’t understand why I told him that. It was not what I was thinking, and it was not what I wanted to say.
“Do you feel bad for Mike?” he asked, and his eyes seemed to go on forever.
Yes, I do, my mind echoed the thought. “No, I don’t.” What was going on? I thought one thing and said another. This was strange for me. After all, I usually say whatever comes into my mind. But it seemed agreeing with him was all my mouth could do.
“Do you love me?” He cocked his head, the coldness making my fingers go numb. And as I stared at him, I realized it was his eyes.
I willed myself to look away, but even that was harder than it seemed.
Similar Books
