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A faint smile curved my lips. I was happy to admit that I loved Jayson and had done so for years, and now he was mine. He was the standard to which I held all other men, and none had been equal. Sure, the circumstances of the marriage were tragic, but I was determined to make the best of the opportunity. By the end of the marriage contract, I hoped Jayson would love me as much as I loved him, and that our arrangement would become permanent.
A colony of butterflies danced in my stomach as I opened the bathroom door to enter the bedroom. Jayson was standing a few feet away, in the process of unknotting his tie. At first, he didn’t look at me, and I stood before him, feeling exposed in more ways than one. A chill in the air made me shiver, but I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around my body to warm myself, and also to hide my skin.
When he did look at me, his eyes widened with surprise. For a moment, his gaze flicked lower, but quickly returned to mine. “Did the housekeeper show you your room?”
I frowned. “No. She put my things in here.”
Jayson nodded. “We’ll be sharing a dressing room.”
“Oh.” Confusion swirled through me. “Do you prefer to sleep alone?”
His abrupt answer should have told me all I needed to know. “Yes.”
My naiveté made me push forward. Thinking he didn’t want to scare me, I thought maybe he was waiting for me to make the first move. A deep breath gave me courage, and I stepped close to him, putting a hand on his chest.
My husband stiffened, his expression darkening. “What are you doing, Harper?”
I licked dry lips. “I…I don’t know. I thought you wanted me to…”
His motion was gentle, but the action was brutal as he took my hand from his chest and stepped away from me. “No, I don’t want you to do anything. I shouldn’t have assumed we were in agreement on this…aspect of marriage. I expect nothing from you.”
My lips parted in a small gasp. “I didn’t realize.”
He nodded. “I know. It’s an understandable mistake.” Jayson waved a hand downward to indicate my body. “I appreciate the effort, but sex will complicate everything and for no reason.”
I nodded, trying not to betray my hurt and shock. “Yes,” I said, voice trembling.
“Your room is through that door.” He gestured to it, and I turned, desperate to escape his presence. I was a few steps from the door when he called my name. I paused, turning back to look at him. “Just so we’re clear, Harper, I won’t be changing my mind in the future. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about any of this.”
Figuratively gathering the tatters of my pride, I lifted my head high. “I understand now. It’s a relief, to be honest,” I tossed out, hoping I didn’t sound shrill or whiny. I wanted to be calm, or at least seem to be. “Now that we understand all the terms, it should be a relatively easy three years, everything considered.” Without waiting for a reply, I stepped into the other bedroom of the master suite, finding its Queen Anne furniture and light purple accents much more to my tastes than his room. The king-size bed was so comfortable as to be almost sinful, I discovered seconds later, after throwing myself on the plush surface and burying my face into the pillow to sob out all of the humiliation and hurt.
His words from that night imprinted on my brain and still haunt me from time to time. It’s true he never said he didn’t want me, but it wasn’t that hard to figure out what he was trying to say in his politely remote way. It took months, but I eventually recovered from my “love” for Jayson, and finally dismissed it as a stupid and lingering adolescent crush. The indifference which I displayed toward him after that night started out forced, but I mastered my reactions and eventually managed to feel true detachment from Jayson.
In one moment of weakness, I’ve undone all my hard work. My body still aches for him, though my mind recoils at the thought of sleeping with him now. He hadn’t wanted me three years ago, and I refuse to be used because I’m convenient now. I have no doubt sex with my husband would be amazing, and my hands dream of touching him, but it’s not worth the cost to my pride or my emotional stability.
I can’t risk falling in love with him again.
Chapter 28
Jayson
The study is the place where men in my family found solace from the time my father first built the villa. And it is where I find myself now. A finger of whiskey remains untouched in the crystal glass, though I remember to swirl it from time to time.
I fucked up everything.
I set aside the glass to wipe a hand across my face, then through my hair. Three years ago, I was determined to make Harper understand I didn’t want anything physical to happen with her. She was beautiful, standing in front of me in a white negligee that made my fingers itch to pull off the scrap of fabric and explore the skin beneath. She was more than simply desirable; she was everything. And, less experienced than I was accustomed to in a lover. I exerted every ounce of willpower not to accept her shy invitation.
At the time, I was thankful that my wits quickly conquered my… shall we say, baser urges, and I was able to resist. I tried to be gentle with the rejection, but still get the point across. After that night, she acted like nothing more than a roommate that I saw in passing a couple of times per day. She hadn’t shown any sign of distress that I refused her attempt to consummate the marriage, so I just assumed all was well, and that she had reached the same conclusion I had—that sex was strictly off-limits if we both wanted to avoid developing deeper emotions.
With a wry tilt of my lips, I acknowledge those assumptions certainly made an ass of me. Harper obviously took the message to heart. Shaking my head at my own blindness, I mutter a few curse words. How could I have been near Harper for the past three years and not taken her to bed? The idea of losing her now is completely unacceptable. At thirty-eight, I don’t want to give up the comfort of having a wife, nor take on the task of finding another when I have the perfect wife already. Harper is an ideal partner and I’m used to her habits. It’s silly to end our marriage. I just have to convince her of that.
As I relive holding her earlier, I can feel my cock spring to life. Her mouth devouring mine while our bodies strained to get closer. Harper was willing and responsive. With just a little perseverance, I could seduce her. I’m sure of it. But would that be enough to make her stay?
A conversation from the party replays in my head, and the seed of an idea germinates. Harper said it herself. “Children need both parents, particularly when they are young. In that situation, I think you have to set aside what you want and think of your child, at least during the formative years.”
If she were to get pregnant, she would have to stay. It isn’t the ideal way to convince her, but at least it gives me an option if she stubbornly wants to leave.
Imagining my child in Harper’s arms, nursing at her breast, makes me happy. I catch myself in the mirror as I get up, and see a goofy smile on my face.
