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“I can probably get you an audience with him within a month of the wedding, but we get marriedfirst.”
His eyes narrowed. He didn’t like not being able to dictate the terms. “Understood.”
“Every June, Nolson has a party at his estate,” Annabelle continued. “Very short guest list, but Daddy and I always receive an invitation. As my husband, you’d automatically be able to attend. Does that suit you?”
Dante nodded, an inscrutable expression on his face. “Next, the prenup. It should be ironclad to protect us both. I don’t want you trying to sink your claws into my company if yours collapses, and I’m sure you don’t want me to use my vast resources to do a hostile takeover of yours.”
His statement sounded like a warning. One of the reasons Dante was so successful was because of the amount of cash he had in reserve, available to leap on investment opportunities as they became available. He also had a stellar rating as a credit risk, which had banks clamoring to loan money for his business endeavors. Modest living had its benefits, and coming from a modest background meant he knew exactly where every nickel went and what the money was used for. During their marriage, his financial mind had been a beauty to behold—a lethal combination of business acumen and street smarts.
“I couldn’t agree more. I’m glad we’re both clear on how to proceed,” Annabelle said evenly, though her stomach burned. When he left, she’d have to find an antacid to alleviate the pain.
“Now, to a more… delicate matter that I want to discuss with you,” Dante continued. “Sex.”
Tension burst into the room as the word dropped.
“Sex?”
“Yes, the thing people do when they’re attracted to each other. In heterosexual relationships, the man places his penis in?—”
“I know what sex is and how it’s performed.”
“I wasn’t sure. You seemed confused.”
“I’m not,” Annabelle said in a hard voice.
“Good. I need to be able to release my built-up sexual frustration over the course of the marriage.”
Of course. He had quite the sexual appetite.
Annabelle shrugged. “Fine. As I said before, be discreet.”
“What about you? Don’t you have needs?” His gaze crawled over her and lingered on her crossed legs.
She felt the weight of his stare as surely as if he’d touched her.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Ay Dios,” he said softly. “Have all your rich boyfriends turned you off sex? You used to love it, or was that only with me?”
As her pulse raced, Annabelle forced a laugh. “And yet I left you.”
“You didn’t leave because the sex was bad, but because you couldn’t handle sacrifice after growing up in the mansion on Lacewood Lane.”
What he said was categorically untrue. She would’ve lived in a studio apartment the size of a shoebox with him. She left for a different reason, which she couldn’t face without regret.
“What is the point of this conversation?” she asked in a sweet voice coated with ice.
“The point is, we both have a sexual appetite which must be satisfied during this one-year marriage. You know how cranky and irritable I can get.”
She was well aware.
“I propose we agree to a schedule or a minimum number of times, to keep the frustration at bay.”
Annabelle shrugged. “Sounds good to me. It’s not a bad idea, actually. I’ll need to release my frustrations, too. There are a few men I can call to scratch that particular itch. What kind of schedule did you have in mind?”
“You are not having sex with other men while you’re married to me.” Dante looked her dead in the eyes, unflinching.
Annabelle chuckled softly. “Oh really? You can have sex but I can’t? How charming and so very… what’s the word I’m looking for… 1950s of you. If I don’t get to have sex, you don’t either.” She flashed her signature tight smile. “Final offer.”
