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17
Chase
I was a demanding and hard man, but I’d never thought I was an asshole until Sara. While I hated disappointing her, the fact that she was annoyed by me avoiding sleeping with her showed that I was wise to keep us in separate rooms. Clearly, she wanted more than I could or would give.
After breakfast, she went to her room while I stayed on the terrace reading the morning news and financial reports. When she came back, she was wearing a tank top and tiny shorts that nearly showed her ass.
“What are you doing?” I asked, liking what I saw but not liking the idea she was going to go out into the city dressed like that.
“I’ve still got money to spend.” Her expression looked like she might try to buy a new husband. That wouldn’t happen.
“Maybe you could change and not go out looking like a teenager.” Jesus, I sounded old.
“I am a teenager.”
Fuck. Just when things had been going well, and now this. What had I been thinking marrying a nineteen-year-old? Sure, she was generally more mature than most women her age, but she was still young.
“You’re also Mrs. Chase Raven,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I wasn’t going to come off sounding like a possessive husband or worse, a father. “You need to dress like it.”
The defiance in her features dropped, replaced by something I couldn’t quite read. Resignation? Sadness? Wariness? She appeared smaller as if she was trying to hide. She turned and headed back into the apartment.
I rose from my chair and went inside as well. For a time, I thought she might just stay in her room, but eventually she came out wearing the same tank top and a pair of jeans. I might have expected her to have an attitude about me asking her to change. Instead she just stood in front of me. As I looked at her, it was like a part of her was gone.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Do you think I’m being unreasonable?”
“No.” After a beat, she said, “You’re the boss.”
I frowned. “I’m your husband.”
She shrugged as if to say, what’s the difference?
I couldn’t fathom where this change was coming from. The only thing I could come up with was that she felt like I was being too controlling. The resignation in her voice suggested maybe others had been controlling too.
“I have expectations…”
Her jaw ticked, suggesting she’d heard that before.
“But I’m not going to control you. The door is right there, Sara.” I pointed toward the exit. “I won’t stop you from leaving. Or you can stay. You’ll have the freedom to do what you want, but you do need to remember that you represent the Ravens. If things go right, you’ll be a mother within the year. I don’t think it’s unreasonable that you look as grown up as you act.”
She bit her lip showing me the first sign of breaking through whatever wall she’d build. She nodded.
“I’m going to do some work. Have fun shopping,” I said, leaving her in the living room.
In my home office, I tried to focus on work, but couldn’t shake that strange interlude with Sara. What was her story? In retrospect, I probably should have done more research on her. All I knew was that she was a college student who was struggling because of a personal issue. Did that personal problem involve a man? She’d been a virgin, so I doubted it. But something in the way she’d reacted to my telling her I didn’t like what she was wearing unsettled me. She looked at me differently.
I wondered if it would last. There could be a benefit to her viewing me differently if our marathon sex resulted in a pregnancy. If she now found me distasteful, she’d stay away from my bed and ideas of a real marriage, which would allow me to focus on the business. My dick wasn’t too happy about that. He was enjoying all the attention he was getting. But something inside me was relieved to not have to worry about emotional entanglements.
Still, I didn’t want her to be unhappy or afraid of me. I wasn’t a total and complete asshole. There had to be a balance where we could cohabitate peacefully and happily. Perhaps with even the occasional round of fucking.
When she returned that afternoon, the Sara I knew was back, and apparently ready to continue with the deal.
“I went back to the fancy stores and bought clothes suited to being Mrs. Chase Raven.” She laughed. “At first, I was afraid they’d call security on me.”
I frowned. “Why?” I wouldn’t stand to have my wife disrespected.
She looked down. “Because I’m a nineteen-year-old. Anyway, I showed them the card you gave me and then they were all, ‘come this way Mrs. Raven,’ and ‘can we get you something to drink Mrs. Raven.’” She smirked.
