Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“I’m going to admit something,” I say as our dinner arrives. “I imagined you were more of a Katy Perry and reality TV kind of girl.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she grumbles.
“Maybe not, but you have good taste. You like Godard and Lynch. You listen to Radiohead and Modest Mouse.”
“I know every single word on Midnights. That’s Taylor Swift, in case you weren’t sure.”
“But my point stands.”
“Just because we have a few things in common doesn’t mean we’re the same.” She makes a disgusted face. “God, could you imagine?”
“You wish you could be half as interesting as I am.”
“Please, just because you sell drugs and run your little crime family doesn’t mean you’re actually interesting.” She raises her glass of wine, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I find you boring and self-centered.”
I laugh, unable to help myself. This fucking girl doesn’t back down. Even when I give her a hard look and hold her gaze, she only quirks her lips and raises an eyebrow, almost daring me to give her shit just so she’ll have an excuse to snap right back.
The fight is fucking fun. I’d be lying if I tried to pretend otherwise. We bicker and tease each other, and it’s true that I find her frustrating and more than a little self-important, but I also like how quick she is and how she never backs down, even when I’m angry.
When she gets up to use the bathroom, I lean back and admire her ass swaying in that dress. But when I glance over at my guards, one of them is looking too, and he’s licking his lips like he’d rather have my wife for dinner. I lean toward him and catch his eye, and his face turns pale when he realizes I caught him.
“If you look at her again like that, I’ll cut off your dick and shove it down your throat. That’s not an idle threat. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again.”
“Yes, Mr. Moreau,” he says quickly and stares at his glass of wine like it’s going to sprout tits.
I sit back in my chair, brooding. Brianne really is a beautiful girl. I can’t blame my men for looking at her. And it isn’t like she’s wearing anything provocative or particularly revealing—she just happens to be gorgeous, and every straight man in the room glances in her direction when she walks past.
I like it, but it also drives me crazy. I didn’t think I’d be possessive of a girl I didn’t even want to begin with, but now that she’s mine, I can’t stand the idea of other men desiring her.
Brianne was supposed to be my shield against Grandpère’s arrangement. I know Collette, and I hate that girl with all my heart—the stubborn, snobbish, stuck-up asshole—which is why I figured a stranger would be better.
But now I’m wondering if Brianne was a good choice.
The problem is my wife is too beautiful.
I don’t want to want her. Life would be so much easier if I didn’t have this simmering need to touch her body.
And yet it’s in me, whether I like it or not.
I think of her back at her father’s house kneeling in the bathroom and covered in bruises. That cools some of the simmering lust building in my chest, but replaces it with a protective urge. And makes my heart sink.
There’s a reason she’s got sleeves on. There’s a reason she can’t show off her back or her midsection.
I’m in a foul mood by the time she returns. I finish my wine and gesture for another, and Brianne acts like she doesn’t notice anything as she eats her meal in silence. I let the quiet grow between us, my anger simmering on the edge of rage as I think about her coward father and what he did to her, before I finally speak up.
“We should set expectations.”
Her eyebrows raise. “I’m sorry, what now? I thought we’d finally gotten to the best part of the meal.”
“And what part is that?”
“You know, where you stop bothering me and let me eat.”
I briefly close my eyes. This fucking girl. “We should talk about our marriage. I need to set some ground rules with you before we continue.”
“I don’t really like this whole rules thing.”
“Just listen to me for once.” I say it harder than I mean to and she looks surprised then hurt. I curse myself for having a short temper, but I push on. “When we’re in public, we need to act like we’re married. You don’t have to hang on every word I say, but you can’t outright disrespect me, either.”
“No promises there,” she says through her teeth, clearly annoyed now too.
“Keep it to a minimum at least. Beyond that, you’re free to live your life, only you have to be guarded at all times.”
“Guards?” Her expression softens as she glances at my men sitting at the table near us. “I can’t leave the house without an escort?”