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A shiver that has nothing to do with the chill of the air goes through me as I think of what Theo will want to do to me this evening, no doubt, the touch of his hands and mouth, what new pleasures he might have decided he wants to experiment with. I push open the door to the coffee shop and bookstore that I saw across the street from where I purchased the raincoat, my thoughts fully occupied with ideas of Theo and me in our bedroom tonight.
I’m notsupposedto be this happy. I keep trying to tell myself I’m not, that there’s some sinister side to Theo that I’m not seeing, that all of this is going to come crashing down, but all I come back to, again and again, is that it’s going to come crashing down because ofme. Because I believed what Nikolai had been told and passed on to me, because I agreed to this plan, and Theo will suffer for it.
I’mgoing to suffer for it, because I care about Theo.
What about Adrik?The small voice in my head taunts, as I walk up to the hewn-wood countertop and the petite brunette barista standing behind it.You were supposed to go back to him after all of this. Have you forgotten about that?
I haven’t forgotten about it. Nor have I forgotten how his hands made me feel, sliding roughly over my arms, my hips, under the silk of the shorts I’d been wearing yesterday afternoon. But I also haven’t forgotten about the anger on his face at the end or the threatening way he’d told me that he would be watching me.
It hadn’t felt like the romantic promise of a man who wants to protect me. It felt like the barely veiled threat of a jealous lover—and that’s not the man I fell in love with.
It’s not the kind of man I want to be with—and I can’t shake the feeling of irony that the man I was meant to be afraid of, Theo, is the man I feel safest with right now. If anything, I feel more afraid of Adrik.
I wish I’d never gotten into this situation at all.The thought flashes through my head as I order a caramel soy latte from the girl behind the counter, and at the same moment, I’m not sure if I really feel that way. If I hadn’t married Theo—
I don’t want to undo the past few days. I’ve felt happier and more cared for than I have in a long time, even if that’s at odds with what I’ve been sent here to do. But now I’m faced with a problem that I have no idea how to untangle.
Once I have my hot cup of coffee in hand, I wander through the bookstore, browsing. It’s warm and cozy in the small shop, the sound of the rain coming down more heavily outside, and I feel a sense of comfort that I haven’t had in a long time.I could be happy here,I think, letting myself drift away for a moment in imaginings of a life with Theo here in Ireland, one where we spent more time here than in Chicago the way he’s suggested he might want to, where days like this would be commonplace. A life where the manor would truly start to feel like our home. I wouldn’t even have to feel badly about leaving Nikolai and Lilliana behind—I could fly to Chicago to see my little nieces and nephews whenever I wanted, easily…
Would Nikolai even allow you back home, allow you near his family, if you fail at what you’ve been told to do?
Once again, reality comes crashing back in, my heart seizing in my chest as I realize that all of this is impossible. If I fail at the task Nikolai has given me, I have no idea what consequences there will be from him. And if I fail, Theo will know. Whatever is growing between us will be gone in an instant, replaced with hatred. If I survive that, I have no idea what will be left for me on the other side.
There is no chance of anything other than doing what you were told.
The thought makes me feel sick. It’s already harder than I could have possibly anticipated to keep up the charade. I’ve been trying not to think of the conversation Theo and I had this morning, when the topic of children came up, but it rushes back in, making my stomach twist anew. The fact that he’d said he would have been willing to give me time if he could just makes it worse, because it underlines the fact that he’s not entirely without his own obligations and that, on his own, he seems to be in every way the opposite of the man he’s been made out to be.
He saw my hesitance about children. I wasn’t able to hide it well enough. But then again, my responsewouldhave been enough if Theo were the kind of man to be satisfied with a wife willing to do her duty.
The fact that he’s not—that he feels some kind of guilt or unwillingness to force children on me—feels like just another sign pointing towards him not being the kind of man that I’ve been told he was. I’ve never knownanyman in this world not to simply assume that he was owed an heir by the woman he chose to marry.
Theo wants a family in the true sense of the word—and that means a wife who is happy to bear his children. The fact that I can’t give him that fills me with an almost crushing feeling of guilt—and a sadness, too, because I think I can see the sort of father he might be. It’s so much better than what any other man I might have married would be.
I comb through the books, selecting a few novels that sound interesting. I can picture myself curled up in front of the fire with them or sitting in bed next to Theo, and the warmth that idea sends through me is more pleasant than it should be.
There’s nothing in particular that Ineedto shop for, and I don’t want to take advantage of how freely Theo is letting me spend his money, so I spend the rest of the afternoon browsing more than anything else. I buy a pair of sleek black rainboots to use while we’re here, in case I want to spend time out in the garden or even just to walk around—my leather riding boots that I’ve worn today have almost slipped on the cobblestones a number of times. There’s a lovely knitwear shop that I linger in for a while, purchasing a couple of cardigans in soft cashmere wool and a scarf, and when I pass by a lingerie shop, I hesitate.
I’d brought a few things with me from what Lilliana and I had purchased for the wedding. Still, I have the sudden urge to pick out something new, something that I think Theo specifically would like. It feels like admitting that I want to fuck him, that I’m enjoying it, and that keeps me lingering in the doorway for several long seconds before I finally get up the nerve to walk into the warm, floral-scented store.
A gorgeous, stick-thin blonde woman sweeps up, greeting me with a smile. “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asks breezily, and I manage a smile in return.
“Just browsing,” I tell her. “But I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”
It’s a beautifully high-end store, with a few pieces hanging on every gilded rack as I walk through, looking at all of the items made of fragile lace and thin silk. I remember Theo saying that he liked the sweater that matched my eyes, and I pick up a babydoll nightgown of that same light blue colored silk, with cream-colored eyelash lace fringing it.
I could wear this for him tonight. I picture myself coming out of the bathroom after changing into it, hair loose and nothing underneath, and I can see the heat in his face in my mind’s eye. I know exactly how much he would enjoy seeing me in it.
I shouldn’t care what he would enjoy, what would please him. But I feel a warm flush of desire at the idea of him seeing me in the lingerie, imagining how it would turn him on. I find myself walking through the racks, choosing a few more things that I think he would like before I have the blonde woman ring me out, adding the bag to my small stack of purchases for the day.
When I step back out, I hand the bags to one of the security, asking him to take them back to the driver. “I’m going to go see about finding another cup of coffee,” I tell him—the jet lag hasn’t entirely worn off—and I start to head down the street towards another small coffee shop when a hand suddenly lands on my arm.
I spin to see Adrik standing next to me.
“What are you—” I stare at him, stunned. I hadn’t seen him among the members of the security team assigned to me today.
He says nothing, only closes his hand around my elbow and pulls me into the alleyway next to us, backing me up against the wall. A cold rush of fear goes through me in a way that Adrik has never made me feel it before, and my stomach clenches.
“Adrik, I—”
