Page 43 of Contractually Wed

“Yes.”

“Feel better?”

“No.”

With moonlight coming in through the glass walls behind him, every angle of him was limned lovingly as if she herself had crafted him with her hands.

A broad chest, strong shoulders, tapering to a thin waist and abdominal muscles that she rubbed herself on without shame...he was everything she’d never even had the nerve to imagine. Just the sight of him made her heart flutter with dizzying pleasure, her body come alive as if it had been sleeping for years.

Powerful and yet kind beneath the grumpy exterior, a man who was a hundred times worthier than the man she called father...

Was he hers? Could he be hers forever? Was her love enough to sustain them?

Suddenly, Jia knew what she had to do. Her happiness, her spark for life, her very joy itself was already bound to this man. How could she leave him? She had spent all her life serving her undeserving family, hoping to earn a smile, a pat, approval from a man who didn’t even see her.

How could she do anything less for the man who had seen her messy, chaotic self from the first moment and only found it fascinating? For the man who had only tried to protect her when he thought she was being harmed, the man who encouraged her to scale new career heights, the man who was always telling her to never dilute her vision, to never lessen herself for anyone, including him?

A sudden rush of energy filled her at her resolution. Her lips curved. Her body thrummed with fresh need that wasn’t just about escaping her worries, but with new appreciation, for her own desire and for him.

“Jia?” Apollo said her name again. Only this time, it was heavy with frustration. With...pain even. He thrust a hand through his hair, making it stand up every which way.

Coming to her knees on the bed, Jia extended her hands to him. “Will you hold me, Apollo?”

He threw the towel he’d been holding and reached her in seconds with those long strides. Whatever she’d asked of him, however unreasonable she’d been with her own indecision, he’d held her through it, through the storm, without complaint. Without making her feel like she was a burden.

Even her own mother had thought her a burden at one time.

Jia threw herself at him, shuddering with relief brought on by her decision. It was right. She knew it in her bones.

His skin was warm, his muscles tense and hard as he wrapped those steely arms around her. She laid open-mouthed kisses on his bare chest, leaving little dents with her teeth, loving the rough bristle of his chest hair against her skin. The lacy top she’d worn rasped against her beading nipples, making the torment a thousand-fold.

“You’re shaking,matia mou,” he said, his mouth at her temple. “Again.Jia...” her name was both a mantra and a curse on his lips “...this...whatever this is needs to stop. We can’t continue...you can’t...”

“I know. I know,” she said, looking up.

His eyes caught her, trapping her in the midst of a maelstrom. A shaft of fear pierced Jia at what she saw there, even though she couldn’t put a name to it.

“I’ll do better, Apollo,” she said, just as she had once promised her mother, so desperate to please and matter and love. But tonight, this promise to her husband wasn’t borne out of that same desperation. This promise was different. It moved through her like a rich, fertile sapling spreading its branches, planting roots deep inside her.

This wasn’t just for a reward or for approval or to earn love. As if anyone ever had to.

No, she wanted to make him happy. She wanted to please him, make him laugh, make him see who he was beneath all the layers he’d covered himself in. She wanted to love him as well as he loved her, even if he never said the words.

She stroked her palms over his shoulders, loving the tight stretch of his skin over muscles. Loving that she already knew his flesh so well. “You’ve been very patient with me and I’ve been an awful employee and an even more awful wife but I swear I will—”

“You think that’s what I care about?” he said, roughly tugging her up, until she looked into his eyes. He looked tormented. Unraveled, like she’d never seen him before. Angry, yes, but afraid too. And she’d never seen that in Apollo’s eyes. “That you’re not performing at peak efficiency at work? Or that you haven’t behaved like however a proper wife is supposed to act? Do you think so little of me, Jia?”

He hadn’t raised his voice but there was an edge to it that had her searching his face for answers. Alarm punched through her. He was right.

She’d been like one of those gothic heroines Rina was always reading about, walking around dark, edgy moors with tears running down her cheeks, her hair in a disarray, waiting for someone to save her. But she’d already saved herself, with Apollo by her side.

She just hadn’t known it. Worse, she’d been so deep in her head that she hadn’t wondered how it must have looked to Apollo. Clearly, he had been paying attention to everything she’d done and not done.

“No, of course not. But I know it’s not easy to live with a moping mess of a—”

“So what? How do you plan to suddenly not be that...woman?” His fingers were digging into her shoulders, not hurting but not gentle either. “What magical potion will you take to just transform all of a sudden?”

“I have been thinking of magical potions in the past week too. One I would sneak into your morning coffee so that I could have my wicked way with you, so I could make you give me everything I want. Whatever I want.” She moved her hand between their chests, grinning like a loon. “Made for each other.”

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