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I rock forward, tip my head down, and peer at her over my glasses. "You are not a biddable wife, are you?"
"Uh, no." She hits me with a sarcastically cheerful smile. "But I give you great sex to make up for it."
"Aye." I release her toes. "I have something for you."
I hold out a sheet of paper.
She drops her feet to the floor and strains to accept the paper across the wide desk. As she peruses the document, which I had typed up with bullet points to separate each item of interest, she struggles to restrain a smile. She undoubtedly thinks my organizational skills are amusing.
"What is this?" she asks.
"A list of my holdings."
"Is that like stocks and bonds?"
"No, it's an inventory of properties I own. I thought you should be made aware of this information."
"I'm definitely aware," she says with a teasing smile and a sultry tone in her voice. She browses the document again. "This isn't a huge list for a rich guy. An apartment in Edinburgh, the castle here, and—" She squints at the sheet. "You own property on Skye? The island?"
"Yes. It's a house."
"Cool." Emery sets the paper on her lap. "How often do you go to Skye?"
"I've been there once, when I looked at the property."
"Once? If you never go there, why did you buy it?"
I shrug one shoulder. No, I don't care to explain my reasons to her. It would sound pathetic.
She eyes me in a way that makes my skin itch because it feels like she can see through my flesh, down to my soul. "Don't try to convince me you have no idea why you bought it. You don't want to tell me, that's all."
I arrange and rearrange the folders and papers on my desk while avoiding eye contact. "You'll see the property soon enough."
She jerks upright, her hands on her knees, and the document sails down to the floor. "I will? When?"
"During our sightseeing holiday."
"Thank you, Rory." She claps her hands, beaming at me. "Yay! I get to see the ocean and the famous Isle of Skye."
I'm fair certain I'm giving her a baffled look, which has become a bad habit since I married Emery. "It's not as exciting as you seem to think."
"Maybe to you." She sways in her chair, both arms extended above her head with her fingers fanned out. "This is awesome! Do you have any idea how long it's been since I took a vacation? Years. I mean, seriously, years. I should come over there and smack a big one on you."
My gaze has landed on her breasts, now exposed because her dressing gown has come undone and gapes open.
Emery glances down, noticing what's happened. She lowers her arms and starts to pull her robe closed, but then hesitates.
I can't stop gawping at her tits and the pearls of her nipples that I want to devour.
She lets go of the dressing gown, her lips parted and her gaze glossy.
A tortured groan resonates in my chest as I scrub my face with both hands. "Ever since you mentioned it, I cannae stop thinking of—bod an Donais—taking you on this desk."
She ties her robe closed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to flash you a full-frontal shot."
"Wasnae blaming ye. I was enjoying the view."
"Oh, I knew that. It was written all over your gorgeous face."
