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Bryce leaned back against the couch, and despite my better judgment, I moved closer to him. I pressed my face against his chest and curled up beside him.
He trailed his hand down my back. “I’m sorry that I’m so stressed. We’ve been having fun, but now I feel like this is all spiraling, and it happened like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“It’s happening fast,” I agreed.
“If my father’s deposed, it could turn into a nightmare. I wouldn’t be surprised if his counsel advises him to take the fifth amendment and not answer any questions.”
“Why would he do that?”
“So that he doesn’t implicate himself any further. But the problem is, it looks bad to plead the fifth. So our shareholders aren’t going to love that approach.” He pulled me closer. “Fuck. I just feel like this is going to spin out of control, get away from me. I can’t let that happen.”
“You won’t.” I ran my fingers across his chest. “You’re giving this everything you’ve got. You’ve hired the best lawyers, the best PR person, and you’re doing everything that the board’s asked. Your brothers are here, too. Everyone is doing their part. It’s going to be okay, okay?”
He kissed the top of my head. “When you say that, I almost believe you.”
“You should.” What was it Hazel had said?If whatever you’re doing isn’t helping enough, you might want to consider doing…more.
Probably listening to Old Hazel’s advice wasn’t the best approach. Still, she’d worked for the Windsors since Bryce was a baby. She knew him well.
“Do you need to de-stress?” I asked.
He scoffed. “OfcourseI do.” Then a knowing look settled over his features. “Why’re you asking me that?”
I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Maybe I can help.”Maybe when I see the upcoming headlines about Felicia Jones, I can look back on this moment and feel a tiny bit better.
What I was doing was manipulative—to myself, and probably to Bryce—and I knew it. Sex wasn’t love. But if my husband wanted me, if I could take him and make him forget about everything else for a little while, it wassomething.It was what I had to work with.
“Is there a bedroom in the guesthouse?” I asked innocently.
“Of course there is. Let me show you,” Bryce growled.
He got up, and I followed him into the bedroom, knowing full well that my question had not been innocent at all.
TWENTY-SEVEN
the guesthouse
I’d never beenin any of the bedrooms at the guesthouse before. The one Bryce had brought me to had to be the primary suite. It was sumptuous, with floor-to-ceiling windows with a private, unobstructed view of the water. The bed was enormous and simple, set in the middle of the room facing the ocean. A deep-maroon tapestry adorned the wall behind it, giving the room a luxurious, rich vibe.
Bryce locked the door behind us, and I raised my eyebrows. “There’s staff in the kitchen. Olivia Jensen’s been staying here in the guest room, which I’m none too happy about.”
“Why do you care?” I asked, my curiosity rising.
Bryce started to undo his tie. “I’ve been wanting to ask you to come down here with me.”
My heart rate kicked up. “Oh? Why’s that?”
“Because I thought this could be a place where we could get away from everyone. The staff, my work, appointments…” He stalked over to the closet and hung up his jacket. “I actually began preparing this room after you left. I thought if I could ever get you back up here, this could be a place where we could…play.”
My legs turned to jelly. “Play what?”
“Whatever we want.” His voice was full of promise. The promise only my husband could fulfill of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
He slid his tie off, undid his cufflinks, and watched me. “I want you to get undressed, Chloe. Then get onto the bed, on your knees.”
“Yes, Sir.”
When I said his pet name, his eyes sparkled. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”
