Page 75 of The Heir

Her eyes go wide and she looks around with an almost confused looking expression on her face, nodding slightly."Yeah,"she huffs.

We sit in silence for a minute until it's ruined by her tummy growling.

"Care for an early dinner?" I ask, holding my hand out to hers. She takes it and lets me haul her off the bed where her knees immediately buckle. I laugh lightly, hoisting her up in my arms bridal style. "Let's soak for a bit first, get you some of your strength back."

We share a laugh and she presses her hand against her mouth. We spend an hour soaking where she doesn't let me wash her hair, wanting to do it herself.

"What do you know about black hair?" She scowls at me, elbowing my hand out the way when I reach for her.

Attitude is back.

"A lot actually, I did my research." I smile brightly at her when she tilts her head. She's really scrubbing her scalp, making the suds rise high on her head. "Is that good for your roots?" I admonish, giving her a little splash of water that shocks her. "You're supposed to gently rub down the strands. You sound like you're trying to scalp yourself, calm down."

"King, leave me alone!" She gives me an annoyed look. "I've been doing my own hair for at least thirteen years. I think I know what I'm doing!"

I snort. "M'kay. Let's just wait to see what you do when you straighten it before I determine that!"

She give me a nasty side eye before closing them, continuing to attack her scalp with everything in her, before she suddenly freezes then looks over at me again. "King, how… how old are you?"

I lean back, settling against the back of the tub. "Thirty-seven."

She does the mental math and her mouth pops open in shock."You're twelve years older than me?"she hisses.

The demon's back.Great.

Sighing, I stand up to climb out of the tub, ignoring the water sloshing off me and onto the floor, not responding to her ire. I don't want to argue about this. We were doing so well. "I'm going to pick you out something to wear baby," I call out, grabbing a towel and exiting the bathroom.

Unlocking her drawers, I pick out a pretty black set and lay it out over the bed. An olive branch. My way of apologizing to her. I see her look at me out the side of her eye when she comes out behind me later, naked, with her long curly hair clamped into a clip. I take in the sight of her perfect body, waiting patiently.

Isobel holds up the lacy underwear and bra up with an arched brow. "Thank you," she says, but it's with a tint of irritation. Firmly putting us back into unknown territory regarding this marriage between us that I forced her into.

"You're welcome," I respond in a clipped tone. But that's all I say, because if she expects me to follow up with anything insinuating that I'll let her go, the answer is no. Problem is, I want her to fucking want to stay.I want her to want me.

What do I have to do for this woman to crave me the way I crave her?

I watch her through the reflection of the mirror as I put my cologne on and run a comb through my hair, seeing her carefullysmooth the dress over her hips, hiding my handprints on her ass. Regret swells hot and fast within me.

Softer.

I can try and be softer for her.

"Let's have dinner, you must be starving," I say quietly, walking up to her and pulling her against my front to drop a kiss on her forehead. "You look beautiful, I love this dress on you so much. It goes so good against your skin."

She gives me a melancholy smile and tucks her hair behind her ear, turning with me as I lead the way out of the bedroom. Without looking I feel Gustavo's gaze piercing my back as we walk. Always watching.

"How's Xavier?" I call out, addressing him.

"He's in x-ray now, Sir. He should be back next week."

I grunt, happy to not lose my best man, but solidifying myself to sit them all down again for another talk about rules and expectations. I won't be defied. Isobel's the only one who comes close, but that's it.

"Thank you, Gustavo. Send him my regards and inform him he'll be seeing a ten percent raise on his next paycheck."

"Yes, sir."

The three of us are quiet as we make our way through the house, headed to the dining room. I clear my throat rather uncomfortably.

Because who knew that silence could be so loud that it's deafening?

---