Page 120 of The Reluctant Wife

Aurelia

"I am so sorry, I can’t make it for your birthday celebrations," Zoey cries from the phone screen.

I’m in my suite, getting dressed for the grand ball that my father has insisted on throwing for me. Having completed my hair and make-up, I study my reflection. Not bad for someone who, until a year ago, had a full glam team at her disposal. Truth be told, it’s so much more satisfying to dress myself. Now, I only have to get through welcoming the queue of celebrities and officials my father has invited.

"I wouldn’t have expected you here, honestly. Anyway, it’s an event my father’s team has organized." For him, it’s another opportunity to have Verenza in the news.

We have to use every occasion to drive publicity around the country. And weddings, birthdays, and funerals provide the ideal platform for this. But a part of me feels like I’ve had enough of living my life in the public eye. I want to scale back my appearances at such fluffy events and, instead, use my family’s name to attract more attention to charitable causes. I’m not sure how my father would receive that though, so I haven’t brought it up with him.

She frowns. "But it’s your birthday."

"And I’m the Duchess of Verenza." I shrug.

"Not only. You’re also Mrs. Ryot Davenport," she reminds me.

Like I could forget that. His touch, his scent, the feel of his body against mine, his cock inside me, the feel of his palm print on my ass as he spanks me… All of it is burned into my brain and into my very senses. Seeing him almost daily in the meetings when our teams meet to discuss the agenda of the day, and then having him hold my hand at various official functions we attend together, only reinforces that I am his.

There’s not a moment when I haven’t thought of my husband.

At night, alone in the bed in my room, images of how he worshipped me with his body crowd my brain. The way he dominates me and controls me during lovemaking and edges me to new heights, so when I orgasm it turns the act of sex into something almost sacred. It confirms to me that I’m doing the right thing in wanting to walk away from my royal duties to seek a life out of the limelight.

Unfortunately, it’s also mixed with images of him lying bleeding; when my heart dropped into my stomach, and I was unable to breathe, and felt the world closing in on me.

When I dropped to my knees and whipped off my blouse, trying to stem the flow of blood. I was sure he was gone until I slapped him, and he opened his eyes. The relief that enveloped me threatened to pull me under. But I knew I had to stay strong, I had to maintain pressure on the bleeding gun wound. That it likely saved his life is of little solace, though. The gamut of emotions that cleaved my chest still haunts me.

I am still dealing with the trauma of having almost lost him. It’s why I haven’t been able to tell him about my decision to leave my royal duties.

"He was hurt protecting me—" I clear my throat.

She purses her lips. "Are you holding yourself responsible for what happened?"

I don’t reply.

Her scowl deepens. "Honey, the only person at fault here is Veronica."

"But I trusted her. I was the one who brought her into my inner circle. It’s because I messaged her that she could track down where we were."

She blows out a breath. "Surely, you can see how irrational you’re being here. You checked her background before hiring her, and there was nothing in it that could have warned you about her or indicated she was the person out to get you."

I complete painting my lips and set down my lip gloss. "Logically, I agree with you. But the emotional part of me can’t get past the image of him lying hurt after being shot by a bullet meant for me."

"He was also your head of security. It was his job to do that," she says slowly.

"That changed when I married him. I feel… like I’ve pulled him into my life and all the complexity that goes with it. And all because I wanted the money he and his family could invest in my country." I twist my fingers together. "If something had happened to him, I wouldn’t have been able to survive it. Every time I close my eyes, I see him on the ground, bleeding out. And it’s making me feel I need to do something about it. As long as he’s with me, he’s going to be exposed to the same level of threat I am."

"He’s a Marine, and a scion of the Davenport family, who may be even more well-known than your family. He’s as used to being in the line of fire, as well as in the media eye."

"But I’m the Duchess, a member of the Royal Family of Verenza, with public-facing duties. I’m the one whose lifestyle people are envious about, enough that they want to take me down. The level of scrutiny he's come under is nowhere close to what I've faced. By marrying me, he’s put himself squarely in danger, as well." I slip into my stilettos and grab the phone from where I’ve balanced it on the dressing table.

"Have you spoken to him about this?" she asks slowly.

I hesitate, then shake my head.

"Why not? It’s clear, you’re tying yourself up in knots. Nothing I say is going to help resolve the questions in your mind. You should discuss them with him. He’s your husband, after all."

"You’re right, of course. I need to be more open about my fears with him. But it’s taken me a little time to even identify what was bothering me, you know?"

The lines around her eye softens. "Honey, that’s normal. You had a shock. And it’s normal to be so overcome that you pull back. Likely, you needed a little space to regroup. But he’s your husband. And he was there when it happened. It must have been traumatic for him, too. He must have been just as upset to realize Veronica was the one who came prepared to hurt you."

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