Page 2 of The Reluctant Wife

Something that sounds like a chuckle reaches me. I could swear it comes from the giant, but the tension radiating off of his body indicates otherwise. I keep my gaze firmly on my adversary who scowls between us again.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but the behemoth rumbles from above me, "You heard my wife. Best be off, or I’ll have to rearrange your features."

My wife. He saidmy wife.My insides melt. And that voice? It’s like dark chocolate poured over creamy caramel with a bite of whiskey added. My entire body seems to catch fire. I shiver. He must feel it because he pulls me closer. And I’m too shocked at my response and too bemused at how familiar it feels to be held against him; I dumbly stare at my antagonist who’s gonepale. Sweat beads his forehead. With a last glance at the man next to me, he pivots and walks off. The crowds close in behind him.

Once again, we’re surrounded by the hum of voices, and the sound of the music over the speakers. None of which penetrates this strange thrum of awareness that encompasses the two of us. We could be alone on our own deserted island among this sea of humanity.

Then, something crashes behind the bar. It cuts through the haze in my head. I push away and the giant lets me. I turn to face him, standing almost toe to toe in that throng.

"Thank you." I swallow. Then, because an imp of mischief pushes me on, I murmur, "Husband."

I raise my gaze to his, and further up, and up. I have to tilt my head all the way back and when I meet his eyes, I gasp. A deep green, so green it's almost black, but for those silver flares highlighting those emerald depths. So verdant, it feels like I’m peering into the depths of a lush forest. So intense, I’m sure I’m gazing into a swell of the Northern Lights that’s going to soar down from the heavens and steal me away.

I gulp, take another step back, and stumble. He shoots out his arm and wraps his thick fingers around my bicep. Electricity ripples from the point of contact. His eyes turn almost black, the silver sparks crackling and turning almost gold, which is how I know he’s experiencing the same level of awareness I am.

Then he releases me, and I miss his touch. "Thankyou,wife."

His voice is pitched low and has an edge of harshness that grates over my nerve-endings. I shiver again. I try to tear my gaze away from his, but it feels like I’ve fallen down a rabbit-hole and there’s no end in sight. My stomach bottoms out. My knees turn hollow. I sway toward him but stop myself before I crash into him again. I take in that high, intelligent forehead, that thick dark hair, which must be silky to the touch, the straightnose, those high cheekbones, which seem sharp enough to cut through glass, and then, that mouth. Oh god, that mouth, with the pouty lower lip that invites me to dig my teeth in and suck on it. Goosebumps pop on my arms. My stomach feels so heavy, and there’s a hollowness in the place my heart should be.

I’m headed for an arranged marriage. In three months, I’ll be walking down the aisle and getting hitched to my insufferable fiancé—a man I don’t care for, and with whom I have no chemistry.

The least I owe myself is to find out how it feels to kiss someone I’m so deeply attracted to. And if it leads to something else? Well, I can only hope, right?

If I can find out how it feels to be with someone of my choosing, then you can bet, I’m going to do it. It’s why I came to this bar in the first place, and I can’t lose this opportunity. It’s that thought which pushes me to lift up on tiptoe.

I grab at the front of his T-shirt and tug. I must take him by surprise, for he lowers his head enough that I can press my mouth to his. For a few seconds, it’s like I’m kissing a stone. Then suddenly, he comes to life.

He fits his big hand to the back of my neck, the other to my hip. He draws me in close enough that my chest brushes his, then he tilts his head and deepens the kiss.

2

Ryot

Soft. And sweet. Like honey, powdered sugar, and candy. Her taste pours through my veins and lights up my blood. My heart begins to thud in my chest. My pulse rate heightens. I swipe my tongue over hers, and the taste of her intensifies. I haul her closer and her scent—like honeysuckle, vanilla and strawberries—invades my senses. My mouth waters. The blood drains to my lower belly. Fire zips down my spine.

This. Her. Here. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. I’ve been waiting for her forever, and I hadn’t been aware. I need her. I want her. I have yearned for her. She is the antidote to my past. She is the reason I’m alive. She is why I was awarded a fresh lease on life when I knew I shouldn’t have been spared at war. She's my second chance.

I feel like I’ve been drowning since the day Jane was killed on mission two years ago. I feel guilty I never loved her. Guilty that I was tired of the constant bickering in our marriage and wanted her gone. And when she died, the sense of relief I felt made me feel like some kind of monster. If we hadn’t fought thatday, she wouldn't have left on the mission that killed her. I hold myself responsible for that. Not even the fact that she betrayed me lessens the blame I’ve lived with since.

I punished myself by shutting down. I locked myself off. Never noticed another woman... Until now.

I firm my grip around the nape of her neck; she shivers.

I flatten my hand across her back, and her entire being shudders. So responsive. So pliant. She was made for me. Sensations course through my veins. I haul her closer, and when she whimpers, a fierceness grips me. She’s mine.Mine. Mine. Mine.I growl deep in my throat and am rewarded when she melts further into me. She throws her arms around my neck and arches into my embrace. I allow myself to drink of her, to revel in her closeness. I know she must be aware of how I’m responding to her, but I'm unable to stop myself. I need her too much. I need her more than anyone I’ve ever met before and—I tear my mouth from hers.What’s wrong with me?

Why am I thinking like this?I stare down into her shining eyes. It’s like I’m looking into the heart of the very earth. A safe space. A place I can call home. I shake my head to clear it.

What bizarre thoughts are these?I’ve never felt this moved before. This touched in a way that makes me feel vulnerable, like I’ve exposed my deepest secrets to another. I cannot allow myself to feel this way. It’s wrong. I release her so suddenly, she gasps. Her eyes round with surprise. The color rises on her cheeks.

The next moment, she pushes past me and, stepping between two groups of people, she heads for the door. For a few seconds, I watch her retreat. Then, as if we're tethered, I stalk after her. I muscle my way through the crowd, and those in front of me move aside as if sensing my impatience. Good thing, too.

I’m not sure why I’m so affected by her. I’m not sure why I feel like she means something to me already.I just met her. I don't even know her name.

I never felt this way about the woman I was married to… Being drawn so powerfully to someone else in a way I never was to her makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong. But I'm not; I know that. Yet each time my heart races at this new attraction, guilt follows closely behind, whispering about the past.

My steps slow down until I come to a halt. I watch as the woman who called me her husband heads out of the bar area and down the hallway.

She disappears from sight. My heart drops into my stomach. A strange nervousness grips me. An emptiness squeezes my chest. My breath sticks in my throat. It’s as if I’ve lost a part of myself. I shouldn’t follow her. But my feet don’t seem capable of obeying the commands from my brain. I move forward, and when I step into the hallway, I spot her at the main exit that leads out onto the side.

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