Page 43 of My Ruthless Husband

I was pretty happy with my look but I’m not so sure now. The glances make my chest tighten, and doubts creep in. What if I’m overdressed? What if they’re judging me? I anxiously fiddle with the strap of my bag as I scan the area. Then hurry over the vacant table at the far corner facing the glass floor length window.

Dumping my bag on the table, I sit down. The time on the phone screen reads 12:50 pm. I’m early, but I keep glancing at the entrance every few seconds.

My fingers trace the edges of the table in jitters. At twenty, I’m about to experience something I’ve only heard about. A first date.

My gaze slides across my table to the vacant chair. In a few minutes, he is going to fill it. A giggle escapes me, drawing curious glances from nearby tables.

I roll my lips between my teeth.

Silly, silly, River. I chide myself.

Relax, River. He’s not even here yet, and you’re already like this. What are you going to do when he actually walks in?

And then it happens, the moment I’ve been waiting for the past three months. The moment I’ve dreamed about. My heart stops for a second then starts beating again. I didn’t even see him but I know he’s here. I can feel it. Feel him. Slowly, I glance at the entrance again. And there he is.

I watch as he enters, his presence commanding attention even without a smile. My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of us.

I can’t help but marvel at the way his confident stride carries him forward.

Dressed in a full black suit, his olive skin stands out against the dark fabric, accentuating his sharp features. His thick ink-black hair is slightly tousled as if the breeze dared to flirt with it. He’s as beautiful as ever, tall and broad, a striking figure that draws gazes without him even trying.

As he steps further inside, I notice heads turning, and I can’t blame them. The girls around me can’t help but stare. Whispers and soft giggles ripple through the café. His impassive face says he’s used to the attention, but it still ignites a fierce, possessive burn inside me.

He hasn’t seen me yet, so I stand up instead of calling out his name to get his attention. I don’t want any of these girls knowing his name.

Before I can wave him over, he turns his head, and his eyes lock onto mine. The noise of the café disappears, as if the world has shrunk down to just the two of us, bound by the intensity of our gaze. My knees go weak, and I grip the back of my chair, struggling to steady myself.

His eyes, like pools of ink, hold familiarity and something far more intense.

In those seconds, I feel seen, truly seen, as if he’s studying every emotion etched on my face. I swallow the nervous lump in my throat, a rush of emotions flooding through me.

As he approaches, our gaze doesn’t break. I can feel the heat spreading all over my neck and up my face. I have this sudden urge to run and erase the space between us and throw my arms around his neck. But he beats me to it by wrapping an arm lightly around the middle of my back and pulling me closer to his solid frame in a half hug. “River,” he murmurs in my ear and tingles shoots along my skin.

“Damian,” My breath hitches. You might be wondering how I went from getting his number to landing a date with him. It’s kind of a long story. And… I might’ve exaggerated a little.

He pulls back and my smile freezes when I see he is not alone. A Caucasian man with dark blond hair wearing a dark suit is standing tall behind.

“This is Hal. My personal bodyguard.” Damian introduces the man in question.

Hal nods at me, “Ma’am.”

“River please. Nice to meet you.” I give a small smile.

Okay, maybe calling this casual meeting a “first date” was a bit of a stretch. The fact that Damian brought his bodyguard along says it all—he definitely doesn’t see me romantically. Still, a little dreaming never hurt anyone, right?

After Damian and I started texting during my Paris trip, I found myself wanting to share everything with him. There was this constant urge to show him what I was experiencing, so I started sending him pictures of the places I visited. It started like this:

Me: Hey Damian! I just went to this amazing little café in Montmartre. The pastries are incredible, and the buildings are gorgeous. Wish you were here!

Damian: Sounds nice. Have fun.

His replies were often late and brief, but he never stopped replying so it motivated me to keep going.

Me: Guess what? It started raining out of nowhere, and I got completely soaked. But weirdly, it feels kind of romantic, like something straight out of a movie.

Damian: Make sure you don’t catch a cold.

I did obey him but only after dancing in the rain with a huge smile on my face. That one text had made my entire month. Beneath the terse words, there was an underlying concern that made my heart smile. I loved that he was looking out for me, even if he didn’t express it in the most overt way.

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