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Tiny sighs so loudly, I can hear him all the way in the living room. I can’t stop myself from chuckling.
“No, no, don’t think you can turn those big melting eyes on me and plead with me,” she admonishes him.
Tiny woofs in response.
I hear her continue to baby talk to him and realize I have a smile on my face. Tiny seems to have that softening effect on people. When he’s around, there’s never a dull moment. No time to feel sorry for yourself, for your attention is taken up with him. Maybe that’s why Grams asked us to take care of him? But did Grams know I'm not staying with Rick and that I’d end up keeping Tiny? Dogs aren’t allowed in the house we share with the rest of the team. I hadn’t mentioned anything to Grams, and neither had Rick, but Grams must have sensed something, to ask me to take care of Tiny. Or maybe it was a test, and I failed it? The doorbell rings.
"Will you get it?" Mira calls out from the kitchen. I hear the sound of Tiny’s chomping as I head for the door, and when I throw it open, I gasp. My heart jumps in my chest. A thrill of pleasure runs through my veins. I tilt my head all the way back and take in that square jaw, that mean upper lip, that pouty lower lip, that hooked nose which lends him an air of always being in control.
"What do you want?" I cross my arms over my chest.
"I wanted to see you,” my husband murmurs.
"You saw me less than an hour ago."
"I wanted to make sure you don’t lack for anything.”
"Why would you do that?" I frown.
"You’re my wife," he reminds me.
"Not for much longer."
His lips thin. "You are my wife. End of story." He pulls something from his pocket and holds it out.
I glance at the rectangular card in the palm of his hand, then up at his face. "What’s that for?"
"It's a bank card. You’ll have access to all of the funds in my account with this."
"I have enough money of my own."
"Call me old-fashioned, but I’d prefer to provide for my wife," he growls.
"We’ve only been married a few hours, and you’re already asserting your rights?"
"Oh, I haven’t even started." His shoulders bunch, and the tendons of his throat stand out in relief. He looks like he’s about to tear off my clothes, throw me on the ground and mount me and…Would that be so bad?
Heat flushes my skin. My heart descends to the space between my thighs. That familiar flip-flop of my stomach draws attention to the fact I’m utterly in his thrall. I try to look away from him, but those laser-sharp eyes of his hold me captive.
"Rick," I swallow. "Please, Rick." I’m not sure what I’m asking for, but he seems to understand.
"You’re my wife. You should be with me, at my side."
"It’s a farce, Rick. This was for Grams’ benefit, and now she’s happy. That’s all that matters."
"If it’s a farce, why are you wearing your ring?"
I glance at my left hand where the antique engagement ring, as well as the accompanying wedding band he placed there mock me. I curl my fingers into a fist and lower it to my side. "I forgot to take it off, is all."
"I didn’t forget you, not for one second since I left you here. Come back with me, Goldie. The bed is too big without you, the room is too empty without you and I… I’m nothing without you."
Pressure builds behind my eyes. "I can’t, Rick. Not after what you did to me. Everything you told me was a lie. Even getting me to share your room and your bed. All of it was a lie. There’s nothing real between us, not even our marriage, so there’s no reason for us to be together."
"But there is,." He reaches for my hand then turns my palm face-up and places his bank card on it. "I’m rich, Gio."
"So?"
"I’m very rich."
