AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You don’t have to act around me.”
I don’t answer at first. I lift his right hand so I can inspect the cut on his hand more closely. His knuckles are pink and swollen, but at least he’s no longer bleeding. “Kensington.”
“Huh?”
I drop his hand and throw the cotton balls into the trash can before I stand up. “You called me Scarlett Ellsworth. It’s Scarlett Kensington.” His smile makes me wish I’d stayed sitting. “I’m going to head back downstairs.”
He nods; I flee. I put my heels back on and step out into the hallway. I need space. Time. Distance.
Crew is confusing. Everything about him is confusing. What he says. What he does. What he doesn’t say. What he doesn’t do. And the way I feel around him is the most confusing of all.
Going into this marriage, I had one goal: to make Crew see me as an equal. I’ve retained all the power I had when I agreed to marry him. I didn’t consider any of the other ways I might want Crew to see me. I’m worried—terrified—what the repercussions of admitting I want things between us to be real might be. But continuing along the way we have isn’t tenable.
Rather than walk downstairs, I head into one of the other guest rooms down the hall. I feel like being alone. There’s a loveseat in the corner I curl up on. I lose track of time as I lie there and replay today in my head.
Once the sounds downstairs grow quieter and quieter, I stand and walk back down to my room. The bedroom is dark and the bathroom light is on, just like before. But there’s a big lump in the left side of the bed.
I tiptoe into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
When I step back into the bedroom, Crew’s asleep. Or he’s doing a convincing job of pretending he is. He’s not wearing a shirt either. Until this evening, I’d rarely seen my husband in anything but a suit. I lean against the doorframe and look at him. His skin is golden. I’m not sure when he has the chance to absorb any Vitamin D. He seems to work almost as much as I do. His tan stands out against the white sheets loosely draped over the abdomen that’s impressively defined even while relaxed. He must work out. When, I have no clue. That realization bothers me. I’ve spent the past couple of weeks living with him, and I learned more when I was spying on security footage from across the Atlantic.
Getting to know Crew terrifies me. The little I already know intrigues me. The reasons for this marriage were supposed to be the real part. The money, the opportunities, the empire our combined resources would form. Me and him were supposed to be fake.
Instead, the empire feels fake.
Leaning against Crew earlier felt very real.
What happened to her? That girl who didn’t care? There was a very recent time when I didn’t second-guess anything. When I wasn’t tempted to leave work early. When I didn’t get distracted. When blue eyes didn’t haunt my thoughts.
A tiny corner of my heart whispers the answer.She married Crew Kensington.
I turn off the bathroom light and tiptoe across the floor until I reach my suitcase. It takes me a few minutes to sort through my belongings in the dark, but I finally find a silky nightgown.
Slipping under warm sheets feels foreign. The bed is usually cold when I climb into it. I huddle as close to the edge of the mattress as I can without falling off it. Even though I can’t see or feel him, I cansensehim. Smell his shampoo. Hear his breathing.
Once I’ve accepted I won’t be falling asleep anytime soon, I slip out of bed and pad toward the door. The hallway is empty and quiet. I head downstairs and cross the cold tile of the entryway that leads into the living room. French doors line the far wall overlooking the pool. I pause by the bookcase to grab the well-worn copy ofGone With The Windand then type the security code into the keypad by the fridge. It flashes green, indicating the alarm has been disabled.
There’s no sign of the party that took place earlier. Every surface gleams, spotless. I grab a wineglass, an unopened bottle, and an opener, then head outside. The moon casts a luminous glow that coats everything.
I settle on one of the chairs that line the edge of the pool. The cork pops on the first try. I pour myself a generous glass and then settle back against the cushions, taking the occasional sip as I stare out at the stretch of private beach that buttresses the backyard from the ocean.
Then I pick up the book and start to read.
CHAPTERTEN
CREW
When I wake up, I’m the only one in the bed. I stretch one hand out, feeling the cool fabric where Scarlett should be. My sore knuckles protest the movement. I wince, both from the pain and the memories of how I ended up with a swollen hand. A glance at the clock on the bedside table tells me it’s just past three a.m.
I flip onto my back, trying to fall back asleep. Eventually, I give up. I climb out of bed and pull on a pair of athletic shorts. I don’t bother with a shirt before heading out into the hallway. Josephine and Hanson’s room is in the opposite wing of the house. Unless they make it a habit of wandering around in the middle of the night, which I very much doubt, I don’t need to worry about running into my in-laws.
It doesn’t take long to find Scarlett. The lights are on in the kitchen and the door leading out to the patio and pool is ajar. As soon as I step outside, I spot her sprawled out on one of the chairs, holding a wineglass in one hand and paging through a paperback with the other.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask as I take a seat at the end of the lounge chair she’s lying on.
She shoves her book aside and takes a sip of wine before she answers. “You snore.”
“No, I don’t.”
