Page 7 of The Mrs. Clause
He wanted shared custody and full access to our child. He was willing to move to the US, even to Capricorn Cove, for six months a year. The other six he had to be in London and only asked that I visit for four weeks of that time. He'd even compromised and offered London over the Christmas period, allowing for me to take the holiday season off. He'd built in a negotiation clause, and an age specific timeline to allow for reexamination of the contract conditions when the baby needed to start schooling.
He wanted the right to attend all sporting and academic events, celebrate every birthday, and share all holidays. The contract also held provisions for a trust fund, education and healthcare.
I could hardly comprehend this new information. Who was this man? I'd been married to Nick for nearly ten years and I had no idea he was capable of this level of care.
I rolled over, staring at the ceiling, considering my options. Realistically I only had two – return to the States; to a life alone or woman up and meet Nick tonight.
For sex. You're going to have sex with your husband.
The thought shouldn't fill me with this much dread.
Or desire…
I tried to squash that dark little voice, but it whispered vivid memories, my skin heating with remembered caresses. Those devious whispers reminded me of a time when I thought Nick loved me, when I gave myself freely and received only pleasure in response.
An ache formed in my core even as my heart protested. Putting aside my feelings, I pushed up from the bed, heading to the bathroom. I took my time, showering and shaving, blowing out my curls, and applying a thick, but perfect, layer of make-up.
Back in the bedroom I looked at the clothing I had available. Three knit dresses, two pairs of jeans, three warm sweaters and a lot of functional underwear. Nothing screamed seduction.
I chewed my lips for a brief moment. The stores were open for another hour and while the dresses weren't exactly sexy, if I paired them with the right underwear, they would be a good starting-
Why do you even care?
I sighed, rubbing at my temples with both hands. It was a good question. I didn't need to be sexy. Nick had agreed to bed me. Hell, it shouldn't matter to me if he needed Viagra or a dark room to get the job done.
But it does. I want him to want me…
I hated this weakness. Nick was my kryptonite – and I feared that while tonight may grant me my heart's desire, I could also end up breaking my heart in the process.
I made a snap decision, dressing quickly, I headed out to the one lingerie store I knew would welcome me without judgement. The beautiful boutique had silk, lace and leather decorating their front windows. Wisps of underwear, slips and corsets were positioned just so within the store.
"Welcome to Sweet Spice," a friendly woman looked up from behind the counter. "Come on in, can I take your coat or get you a cup of tea? It's quite a day out there."
My mouth moved like a gasping fish then I shook free of my indecision. "Yes, please. To both."
She helped me out of my coat, hanging it up by the door. "I'll just be a moment with your drink. Feel free to wander about."
She disappeared out back and I began to peruse the offerings. I'd been here before, back when I'd been trying to win Nick's love. I'd purchased all kinds of sweet and spicy items – beautiful silk bras in blush pinks and deep jewel tones, lace and leather underwear, corsets and baby dolls, slips and sexy night gowns.
I'd left that all behind when I'd run to America. The memories of those beautiful things, the way he'd looked at me in them, hurt too much.
"Here we go," the woman returned with a tray, settling it on the small coffee table in the middle of the room. She gestured for me to sit on the settee across from her. "Let me just get the iPad and we can talk."
While I settled, she returned, efficiently pouring me a tea and then one for herself. "Now, I'm Mary and you are…?"
"Collins," I answered, wrapping my hands around the delicate tea cup.
"Collins," the woman's crisp British accent was infused with warmth. "Is it a family name?"
I nodded, "for my grandfather." I smiled wryly. "My father expected a boy. His name was to be Collin, but he got only girls, I'm afraid."
Mary smiled, "would that men knew the value of a daughter." She shook her head, "now, let's speak of other things. What brings you to my boutique today, Collins? Something for yourself or for someone else?"
I sipped the tea, struggling to find the words. "Well, it's… my husband… umm… well… you see…"
Mary chuckled, "you wish for something to tempt him. Perhaps make him fall deeper in love with you?"
I flushed, looking down into the dark tea in my cup like it held all the answers. "Something like that."
