Page 36 of His Weekend Wife

CHAPTER TEN

Ash fluttered her eyes open and apprehension skittered through her, until she remembered where she was. She felt rested, better than she had in a long time. This mattress wasn’t anything like the twin sized-lumpy one back in her apartment that had several springs popping through. The sheets here were luxuriously soft and silky, and she could have stayed here in her dreams forever.

Her dreams! Her cheeks warmed remembering how her sleep had been filled with a fantasy of making love with Declan. Her toes tingled. What had she expected? After he’d given her an amazing orgasm in the bathtub, then carried her to bed, she’d been one wound up nerve ending needing stroked for another release or two. She’d wanted him, more than ever. And why wouldn’t she? Declan was an amazing man, had the ability to make a woman feel special, like she was the most wanted woman on earth. She’d fallen before for his charm, and five years later, he’d honed those skills into lethal weapons. He was self-confident, assured and fatal.

She should be angry with him for walking in on her in a private moment.

Yet, it wasn’t anger nestling into her veins. It was something entirely palatial, and wonderful. She could have easily resisted his touch and he would have left her, but she hadn’t. She’d accepted it with the exhilaration of winning the lottery. In fact, she’d wanted things to continue beyond the bathroom and into the bed. But he’d walked away.

She moaned and snuggled deeper beneath the warmth and protection of the covers. She closed her eyes and willed her body to stay here, but her muscles were urging her to get started.

Throwing off the covers, she heard a bird chirping outside of the window. Sunlight was drizzling in through the sheer curtain and it shone light upon every tiny detail of why she was here and how dangerous her emotions were becoming. She was here for a business deal. That’s all this could ever be. Nothing more. No possible way of reigniting the past. If things didn’t work out then, how would they now?

Loving Declan had come with its rewards and its downfalls. He was a powerful man with a lot of influence—personal and professional. At times, she’d gotten lost in all of the glitzy parties and the respect people showed him. Once upon a time, she had been willing to be who he needed just to make him happy. To become the prim and proper wife, helping him become more successful. She’d been helpless when it came to him. Lost to her passion. Bound by a magnetic hold that she found impossible to deny, and more impossible to let go.

Allowing herself to get caught up in the poisonous web was unimaginable. She could never lose herself again, or be the trophy wife she’d believed that he needed.

Back when they were together, living in the leaky, dingy apartment, she’d known how much he’d missed living in his father’s luxurious home. So, when he’d come from work one day and the pipes were leaking again, she’d agreed they would move into the Knight Estate. After all, she was tired of not having hot water and proper appliances. At the time, she had lost understanding of why they’d, or she’d, chosen the dark apartment over the estate in the first place. Bigger, why Declan had agreed. Maybe she’d wanted, or hoped, that he could prove that he was okay with being with a simple, low-maintenance wife.

At first, she loved living in a house where she had more than she could have ever dreamed about. A driver to transport her. A cook to cook for her. A stable with horses. An indoor pool. Yet, the fantasy didn’t take long to fade.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to be the strong woman she knew she was. She’d grown, matured, and Declan couldn’t reach any part of her unless she opened the door and invited him in. Although he was as smooth and sweet as honey, she could resist the charm. Could deny herself the shot of candy straight to her veins that she knew having sex with him promised. Her inner thighs trembled and moistened. This was not looking good in her favor.

She slid from bed and sunk her toes in the plush, soft carpet. Making the bed out of habit, she ran her hand over the comforter to make sure every wrinkle was out of the soft material, maybe to match every other decoration and furnishing in the apartment.

In the bathroom, her attention naturally fell to the large tub. She’d like to sink back into the awaiting porcelain walls, but it wouldn’t be the same unless Declan helped wash her body. She giggled and moved toward the glass-framed shower and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature to perfection. She didn’t need a shower, but she wasn’t ready to leave the respite of her bedroom quite yet. Declan said he had an early meeting, but what if his plans had changed and she’d have to face him over coffee? Her cheeks sizzled. Yeah, she’d enjoy a nice, long shower before erupting into the world.

As the warm spray splashed over her, easing the tension in her muscles, she allowed her mind to wander on the next month and how she’d manage. She was prepared to be the ultimate—temporary—wife for Declan. Pretend that everything was normal between them, but when time was up, she’d have her divorce and she’d move on with her life, leave the confusing history between them where it belonged, in the past.

Forcing away the voice inside of her head that warned her that her intentions wouldn’t be easy, she decided she’d take one day at a time, or hourly if needed. Smile broader as required. Chin up high. But if Declan thought for a minute she’d fall at his feet, or become the gooey-eyed young woman again, he was sadly mistaken.

After using the luxurious shampoo, conditioner, and creamy soap, she shut off the water and watched the last of the suds swirling down the drain. She had no choice but to leave the confines of the shower. Drying off and hanging her fluffy towel over a hook, she padded into the walk-in closet and stared at row after row of clothes, overcome with a sense of uncertainty. Overwhelmed by all her unguarded emotions swimming through her. Being here, in Declan’s luxurious high rise apartment, the idea that not only was she still his wife, but she had to pretend that years hadn’t floated between them, years of change. And yet, when he was near, she could easily forget that they were no longer those two young, star-crossed lovers again finding their way, intoxicated on fledgling love. Neither of them were naïve any longer.

She decided upon a pair of dark, skinny jeans and a T-shirt that had a low cut V and was as soft as silk. This wasn’t like her off-the-rack T-shirts.

Sitting down at the vanity, she stared at her reflection. Her hair was already drying and the highlights were more visible. She took longer than usual to dry her hair straight and applying makeup, as close to how Analise had applied it, yet with a lighter hand. She reminded herself that her extra special care in her appearance had nothing to do with Declan, not one sliver. And it wasn’t her nerves that were working double time knowing she’d see him again later…no, not at all. She was only hungry. She didn’t eat but a few bites of dinner and her stomach was rumbling.

Oh, hell. Who am I kidding? She’d been in knots since coming here.

She wanted to look her best, and had an obligation to look like a Knight wife. Yet, she was a wife of a Knight and this was what she looked like. A diner waitress with chipped nails and scraggly hair—until last night, and now she was pulled together.

Standing, she breathed in deeply, pulled back her shoulders and gave herself a pep talk, “Declan is a mere human being, that’s all. One who makes me giddy, brings me to orgasm, and could knock my panties off with one look.” Oh, great. So much for the encouragement.

The downstairs was quiet. Some of the tension released from her backbone. And yet disappointment took its place. She was a cocktail of raging emotions.

On the kitchen island, she found a note and a platter of fresh croissants. In a bowl was apple butter—another one of her favorites. He remembered. Her stomach did a topsy-turn as she picked up the letter and read Declan’s neat penmanship…

Ash,

I hope you slept like a baby. I slept horrible, raging all night of wishes to climb into your bed, but for now, I’ll accept this arrangement. Eat and get your caffeine fill. You’ll need your energy. Remember we have plans tonight and I ‘ll pick you up later.

P.S. I slipped in this morning to check on you. It’s nice to see that not everything has changed. You still snore.

Declan.

She could almost see his mischievous smile as he wrote each word, teasing her. He enjoyed getting a rise out of her and disappointingly, it worked. Her heart skipped a beat and every cell in her body kicked alive in anticipation of what he promised. If he was only teasing her though, there was no promise here. Only tempting her to play a fool. She dropped the note, took one of the cups from the hook and poured herself a large cup of coffee, followed by a large dollop of hazelnut creamer that she found inside of the fridge. She sat down at the bar, smothered her croissant in a thick layer of apple butter and bit into the buttery goodness. The pastry practically melted in her mouth. After swallowing with a sip of coffee, feeling more awake, her eyes naturally fell to the letter he’d written her.

So, he’d developed a funny bone over the years. He was only joking. She didn’t snore. In her experience with the opposite sex, she didn’t think they kidded about things like snoring…and most importantly, about wanting to share her bed. The mere thought tantalized her nerve endings, awakening parts of her revisited after last night. Why wasn’t she repulsed with his joking? Wasn’t he poking at her?

---