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"I do." Sinclair scowls at me. "Don’t be an arse, Ed. Don’t go making choices that will endanger the company when you’re not thinking clearly."
"Who said I’m not?" I lower my voice to a hush. Not that it has any impact on Sin. Motherfucker’s as alpha as they come.
"The fact that you’re here, instead of taking your gorgeous wife on a honeymoon, is enough of a giveaway that you’re not in the right space."
"Don’t fucking talk about my wife."
Knox flicks an imaginary piece of dust from his tailored jacket. "Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Just stating what I see."
"What I see is a lost opportunity. I’m going to push this deal through, with or without you." I set my jaw.
Knox inclines his head. He doesn’t seem disturbed by my announcement. "Well then, my work here is done." He rises to his feet and nods at Sinclair. "Sterling." Then without another glance at me, he prowls toward the exit. He heads out, and the door snicks shut behind him.
"Why do I get the feeling there’s something up his sleeve?"
"Why do I get the feeling you’re about to commit career suicide?" Sinclair sighs.
"Don’t you trust my judgement?"
He scrutinizes my features. "Frankly, not in the state of mind you're in at the moment."
"Nothing’s wrong with my state of mind."
"It will be when you find out Knox is talking to your wife." He jabs his thumb over his shoulder.
I glance toward my computer screen, showing a live feed of her desk outside my office, and stiffen. He’s right; there’s Knox, leaning a hip at my wife’s desk. He says something, and Belle throws her head back and laughs.
He continues to talk, while she leans over to grab a paper and write on it. He says something else, and she looks up at him with a soft expression about her eyes. I gape.What the hell is happening? I look up at the window separating us, to be certain I'm not seeing things.That's when she reaches out to touch his arm and—"What the fuck?!" I jump up so quickly, my chair topples over. I race out the door, and before she can withdraw her hand, I grab his arm and twist it, throwing him aside. "Get away from my wife."
* * *
"You are crazy, just crazy!" She fumes at me.
After I went caveman and pulled Knox away from her, he didn’t retaliate. Much to my disgust, he smirked, dusted off his jacket, and left. He didn’t said a word, but the smug glitter in his eyes told me I’d allowed him to provoke me again. He turned and prowled off. Sinclair shook his head at me, told me to rethink the acquisition before I went through with it, then he asked Belle to take care of me and left. I marched back into the office, and she followed. I told her to leave; she’d planted her hands on her hips and scowled at me. I mirrored her stance and glared back. She didn’t looked away. Interesting. My little Belle is finding her spine.
"I think you need to leave." I jerk my chin toward the door.
"I think you’re avoiding me," she bursts out.
"What gave you that idea?"
"The fact I haven’t seen you or spoken to you since our wedding night?"
"I’ve been busy." I shove my hand in my pocket. Technically, not a lie, because I’ve thrown myself into work.
"Too busy to spend time with your new wife?"
"New fake wife."
"Not so fake after you took my virginity." She tips up her chin.
"I told you, I’m not apologizing for it."
"I'm not looking for an apology, but you’re not talking to me, either."
"Did you expect me to whisper sweet nothings and tell you how gorgeous you look because"—I look her up and down, taking in the purple dress nipped in at the waist to accentuate her sumptuous figure—"you know you do."
She blushes. "I’m not looking for compliments."
