Page 18 of Vicious Heir

I recognized it as the kindness it was meant to be. “I can make you some coffee?” I offered. Since our wedding, I had learned a pitifully small amount of information about my husband, but I did learn how he took his coffee, light and sweet.

Angel smirked, and heat flared in my stomach. He didn’t open up easily, or at all, but he seemingly had no issue with getting naked with me. I knew that sex wasn’t a big deal to a lot of people, and I hadn’t slept with Angel because I felt an intense emotional connection to him…but I had hoped it would draw us a little closer together. If I had to be in this hellscape for the rest of my life, I might as well get some kind of enjoyment from it.

Except Angel holding me at arms’ length was keeping me from really enjoying any of it.

“There’s only one thing I really want right now,mi esposa,” he said and settled his hand on my waist.

I sidestepped the touch. “I’d love a tour of the house,” I said instead.

Angel’s smirk faded into the line that seemed to be his default expression. “Go explore, then,” he said, dismissing me the way he’d dismiss one of his men. “I’ll just take our bags up to our room.” He spun on his heel and practically stomped over to our luggage.

So…no propertourthen, I thought and surveyed the space. There was a large common area off the foyer that had a fireplace that was absolutely unnecessary for a private island in the Caribbean. The built-in bookcase was filled with books bound in leather. I thought about pulling one out and checking to see if it was real or not — my mother had this theory about rich people buying blank books for decoration — but I kept moving.

I passed through a formal dining room that looked like a page out of a magazine. I could picture Angel’s father sitting at the head of the table with that cold, calculating smile that had made my skin crawl. Shuddering, I passed through the room and into the kitchen, which was more homey just like the one at the compound. The cabinets were stained a light blonde; the backsplash was a white marble that had gold flecked in it.

I opened various cabinets: there was an array of dinnerware and pots and pans enough for a commercial kitchen. I could make five-star meals in this kitchen…if I had a book of recipes. Both the pantry and refrigerator had been recently stocked as well. Everything was neatly labeled and ready for me.

Looking into the fridge, a giggle formed in my throat. It was labeled and everything was in its own plastic container and arrangedjust so. It was like those restocking videos on YouTube that my mother had been obsessed over. It seemed like everyone had the same type of Tupperware and organizational tools. And nowIwas one of those people.

What would she say if she saw you now? Married to a man who won’t even tell you how he likes his eggs in the morning.The thought was intrusive and cruel, and it turned my giggle into a sob. How was this my life?

“Emma?”

Angel was staring at me like I had grown a second head. To him, I was sure that I looked crazy, sobbing in front of the open refrigerator. “I miss my mom,” I said, as if that offered any sort of explanation for myself. I could have explained about the videos that she and I would watch while she got her chemo treatments, but I doubted my husband would understand or care. “I…I miss her so much.”

Angel didn’t comfort me; he didn’t try to touch me at all, which only made my sobbing worse because it just proved that unless it was for sexual reasons, Angel had no interest in me. “My mom was the sweetest, kindest person that I’ve ever met,” I said when he didn’t say anything. I needed to fill the silence. “In her last days, she talked about how she would organize the kitchen when she got better. We both knew that she wasn’t going to recover, but she never talked about the end. She didn’t plan at all…so I didn’t plan at all, and then she was just gone.”

The words tumbled from my lips, and I felt more than saw Angel take a step closer to me. I thought he might reach for me, but then his arm went past me and shut the fridge. Then he went into the pantry and got out a can of sweetened condensed milk, dry milk powder, and powdered sugar.

“When I was sad growing up, my mother made mepapitas de leche,” he said. “Do you want to learn?” Angel gestured to the ingredients that he’d placed on the counter.

There was nothing soft about my husband’s face, but my heart still fluttered at the question. It was the tiniest bit of information about him, but Angel had offered it. I didn’t have to pry it out of Lili or try to bribe Omar. “Please,” I said. “Teach me.”

His jaw clenched, but the corner of his mouth turned upwards. “I warn you,” he said, “that if you can do this well, I’m going to expect them to be made often.” He said it as a warning, but I could see that it was the price of such an admission.

I agreed. “If you like them, I can learn to make them,” I said. “If you would tell me your favorite dishes, I could learn to make all of them for you.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “We have Lara for that at home. Let’s just get through the next few days here, all right?”

“Does that mean there isn't any staff here?” I asked.

“We sent down a few men to prepare things,” Angel answered and began mixing the ingredients in a bowl. He didn’t use measuring tools, so I tried to examine everything that he did as closely as possible. “But they aren’t in the house because I wanted a little privacy.” He shot me a look that was hard to decipher. Lustful, yes, but angry too. “It is our honeymoon, after all.”

He wanted to get a rise out of me by using that word, but I ignored it. Instead, I settled at his side. “Talk me through what you just did? So I’ll know for the future.”

Angel glanced down at the bowl and nodded. Then, he started to explain.

CHAPTER10

Angel

Waking up with someone in my bed was something that I was never going to get used to. When I opened my eyes and felt the weight and warmth of a body beside me, my first instinct was to shove whoever it was away…and then I remembered Emma.

Somehow, in her sleep, she had wiggled back so that her back was pressed against my side. I looked down at her; it was surprising to see her so relaxed. When she was awake, there was always tension in her face and in her eyes, but now all that tension was gone. She seemed younger like this — and even more beautiful.

My cell phone, plugged in on the bedside table, buzzed. It was Esteban. The shipment was here, and I needed to meet them in the storage facility to go through it. I glanced back at Emma, who was still sleeping deeply.Let her sleep, I told myself.

I slipped out of bed and quietly gathered my clothes. I had never had to make myself quiet or small for anyone else, and a part of me wanted to slam the dresser drawer just to prove that I wasn’t going to change myself to suit the woman in my bed…but she was asleep. She had literally done nothing wrong to earn my ire.

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