Page 63 of Beautiful Dangerous

“What?” Angel looks at me, wide-eyed and innocent, and then he follows my gaze to the squashed butt on the ground, crouches down to retrieve it, and tosses it into the brushed metal bin. “Okay?”

“Okay.” I can’t stop myself from smiling now, I don’t know why, I just like being with this man. “Sorry, I’m just… The stupidest, simplest things suddenly feel like the biggest problems, and…” I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s going to take a while, I think, before I start feeling anything again.”

He says nothing for a beat or two, our eyes still locked. “Like I said, Olivia. You can trust me.”

Maybe I can.

Maybe he’s the only one Icantrust right now.

“I really should go and get ready for this party.”

Javier’s “back from the dead” party.

“I’ll be here. If you need me.”

“Yeah. I know you will.” Another smile. Like I said, none of this is his fault. “Look, why don’t you go and find Celine in the kitchen? I’m sure she’ll make you something to eat if you ask her nicely. She’s always got something cooking away on the stove.”

I head back inside, but as I pass Angel he gently reaches for my arm, catching my wrist, and I stop and I look at him.

“Anything you need,cariño. Anything.”

I drop my gaze, watching as his fingers fall from my wrist, and I walk away.

I have to get ready now.

Ready to play my part.

My new role.

I’m the wife of a powerful man. Just the wife, now. Right?

Wrong.

Behind every powerful man it’s highly likely there’s a woman twice as powerful. Something Javier Delgado will slowly come to realize. Eventually…

Thirteen

Olivia

“I’m sorry I’m late,mi amor. The meeting with Eddie ran on a little longer than expected.”

Javier tosses his suit jacket onto the bed and starts to unfasten his shirt.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” I ask, immediately falling into the role of dutiful wife, I mean, that’s what he wants me to be now, isn’t it?

“I’ll just take a quick shower. I don’t want to be the last person to arrive at my own party.” He comes over to me and drops a quick kiss on my lips before hurrying into the bathroom.

I pick up his jacket and slide it onto a hanger; head into the walk-in-closet and put it back where it belongs, alongside an array of new suits that have suddenly appeared, I’d got rid of his old ones, after his “death”. Donated them to charity. But I’d left his side of the closet empty, and now it’s full again. And I’m still struggling with how I really feel about that.

Your husband’s back.

I know.

You should be happy, shouldn’t you?

I should be. But I’m not…

Walking over to the other side of the closet – my side – I start flicking through the rails of dresses, looking for the perfect one to wear tonight, finally settling on a black sheath dress that sits just above the knee. Simple but stylish, because that’s how I like to dress.

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