Page 19 of Marcel

“Are you inlove with her?” The words were out of her mouth before shecould stop herself.

“That’snone of your business,” he told her mildly.

“I am yourwife.”

“Thanks for theupdate.” He put his cup down and rose gracefully. Pulling offhis shirt, he dropped it on the towel before running towards thewater, where he dove cleanly.

“Well!”She huffed. “We will see about that, Mr. Hadley.”

Chapter 5

The honeymoon wasofficially over, although it had not been a honeymoon in the firstplace. Marcel was true to his word, and he did not touch her for theentire seven days. He was the perfect gentleman; after thatstatement, he made before he went swimming, he kept his distance.

They would exploreduring the day, returning well after sunset. He treated her to Greekcuisine by taking her to several restaurants.

He was also verygenerous. As soon as her eyes touched on something, whether it was anunusual pair of boots, a fantastic summer dress with an exorbitantprice tag, or costume jewelry, he would insist on paying for them,instructing her to put her card back.

He was courteousand attentive whenever they were on the road, but as soon as theyreturned to the villa, he would close himself in another room withthe excuse that he had work to do.

They slept on thesame bed, but he managed to stay on his side, careful not to touchher.

All of the sexylingerie she had brought with her had been wasted. Her husband seemedimmune to her charms or was pretending to be. Nikki decided not tomake much effort to change his mind.

On the way back, hehad buried himself with a complicated-looking contract and barelynoticed her. Nikki went into the stateroom and slept for severalhours before bathing to prepare for their arrival.

Now they were back,and, in their absence, her stuff had been transferred from her hometo his townhouse.

“You can makechanges if you want,” he said quietly, standing behind her asshe checked out the vast closet.

“It’sfine.” Stepping into the room, she eyed the shelves and therevolving racks. “Your housekeeper did a good job.”Turning her head, she smiled over her shoulder. “I am kindamessy.”

“That’san understatement,” he said, smiling back.

“So, younoticed.”

“Hard not to.”Shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded denim, he rocked backon his heels and watched as she walked around the room, touching theshelves and picking up a pair of stilettos that had him wondering howshe walked in something like that on Earth.

She was wearing asarong-type dress that had been bought in Greece, the material lightand floaty, with a tie around her neck. She had removed her strappysandals, her narrow feet with the blush pink polish sinking into thecarpet.

“I have somework-”

“No.”

His brows lifted atthe resolute look on her exquisite face. Her hair was plaited on theleft side of her head, drifting over her breast. He had seen the careshe took with brushing and oiling her scalp, and he had to admit thathe was fascinated by everything she did.

“No?”

“Absolutelynot.” Brushing past him, she went into the room. “We justgot back from our so-called honeymoon. We will be returning to thefirm first thing in the morning. We are going to have dinner like anormal couple.”

“In case youhave forgotten, we are not a normal couple.” Leaning againstthe door jamb, he folded his hands on his chest.

“Be that as itmay, we are stuck in this relationship and really should make thebest of it.”

“It’slate.” He jerked his head to the Ormolu clock.

“We are stillon European time,” she said, throwing her head back over hershoulder as she shoved her feet into soft mules.

“You cook?”He followed her out of the room.

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