Page 125 of The Reluctant Wife

"If that’s what you want to call it." He chuckles, then grows serious. "I do want you to know I appreciate what you and your family did for Verenza. The money your company invested will make a huge difference to the futures of our children and boost jobs for families. You have my word that it will be invested where it’s most needed."

"I have no doubt." I nod. "This is a good time to let you know that I will be withdrawing from my role as the head of the task force responsible for investing the money."

He does a double take. "It’s money the Davenport group pumped into the economy."

"I’m aware."

"It’s the most reliable way to ensure it's invested the way you think is right."

"A job my wife is more than capable of managing," I point out.

His eyebrows draw down, then he nods. "I agree with you. In fact"—he squares his shoulders—"I’ve insisted that my father make Aurelia the lead on that planning commission. She’s more than capable of chairing that group. If she wants that responsibility, that it is.”

"Good man." I clap his shoulder.

"And what are you going to do now?" He eyes me curiously. "Without your responsibilities on the task force, you could—" His next few words are drowned out by a series of gunshots.

My heart slams into my ribcage. My body reacts on instinct, and I find myself crouched on the floor, putting the settee between me and the window. Viktor must follow my lead, for he’s next to me.

"Did someone fire?" He pulls out his phone and begins to dial someone. His head of security, no doubt.

Without bothering to reply, I’m on my feet and moving in the direction she headed.She's safe; she has to be. Nothing has happened to her.I scan the people milling about, most wearing confused looks on their faces.I can’t see her. Where is she? Why did I let her leave? I should have gone with her. I—Suddenly, she elbows her way through the groups of people milling around and races toward me.Thank fuck. She’s safe.Something inside of me relaxes. I hold out my arms, and she jumps into them.

"You’re okay." She throws her arms around my neck and presses her nose into it. "I was so scared." She trembles, and I pull her in even closer. She lifts her chin, and I press my lips to hers.

Outside the window, there’s a high-pitched whistling. We look to the side to find fireworks zipping through the sky then exploding in a burst of colorful stars.

"It’s only fireworks," she breathes.

I remember, now; they were arranged to go off at the end of the evening. It’s a testament to how wrapped up I am in her that I forgot about it.

The tension drains from my body. My head spins with relief, and I bury my nose in her hair, drawing in her scent, enshrining it in my lungs. I squeeze my arms about her, reveling in every curve, every dip, every flare of her gorgeous body. "Jesus, baby, that was a hell of a scare. I thought something had happened to you.”

"Me too." She hiccups, then looks up at me through relief-filled eyes which are beginning to tear up. "Will you please get me out of here before I break down and make a complete fool of myself?"

61

Aurelia

He rushes me out of there, sidestepping those who try to stop us, shouldering past others. The curiosity on their faces is too much for me to bear. Not right now, when my heartbeat hasn’t returned to normal, and my pulse drums at my temples and at my wrists. Every beat of it trying to convince me that he'ssafe.ThatI'msafe.

I’m unable to stop trembling and realize what I mistook to be shots fired catapulted me right back to when he was shot, to when the bullets narrowly missed me. A pressure grips my chest. My throat seems to close. I try to breathe, but my lungs burn. I realize I’m hyperventilating and, rather than allow people to realize what's happening to me, I turn my face into his neck and draw deep breaths of his scent. So familiar. So safe.

My heartbeat finally slows. While my pussy begins a different kind of trembling. I hear voices. Viktor’s, asking the guests to let me pass. Then my father’s, asking if I'm okay and saying I can’t leave without bidding people goodbye. To which my husbandfirmly says that I'm not feeling well and I'm in no shape to stay. Then, we’re stepping out into the corridor, and I hear his footsteps and those of someone else up ahead. We reach the entrance to the palace and step out. Cool air flows over my skin. I shiver; he pulls me closer. Then, there’s only the rustling of the breeze, and I realize we’re walking toward our place.

I look up to find Viktor walking ahead of us. Cole brings up the rear.

We reach my husband’s house—ourhouse—and Viktor opens the door for us. As we pass, he presses my shoulder. "Rest up." He exchanges nods with my husband, then steps back. The door closes behind us.

My husband carries me up the stairs, down the hallway, to the open double doors at the end. He steps through, walks over to the bed, and places me on it. When he begins to straighten, I shake my head and grab his hand. "Don’t let go."

"I’m not." He kisses the back of my palm, then sinks to his knees and slips off my stilettos. I sigh and wriggle my toes.

"Better?" he rumbles.

I reach for his tie, but he squeezes both of my hands. "Let me take care of you first, baby."

His gruff voice brings tears to my eyes. And I let them slide down my cheeks.

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