Page 46 of Impending Consent

"Such as?"

"Such as having amazing orgasms and not wanting to be married to you.”

"And how's that working out?" He turned his attention back to the pipes, making an adjustment that stopped the dripping.

"About as well as your plumbing skills."

He laughed sexily. "So improving by the minute, then."

"Agree to disagree.”

“I’ll accept that but you’re still Mrs. Hassan.”

Apparently.

I stood abruptly, needing space. This man was always so damn sure. "I think you've got this under control. I should get back to my case."

Rival moved out from under the sink and wiped his hands on a towel. Water had soaked the front of his shirt, making it cling to his chest in a way that was entirely too damn distracting.

"Hot date with legal briefs?" He stood, extending to his full height.

"More interesting than pretending to be a plumber."

"Debatable but if you'd rather read that boring shit than help your husband maintain our home, who am I to stop you?

"Ourhome.”

"For the next year, at least." His eyes were on me, searching, before he added, “Unless you've changed your mind about wanting out when the time's up."

"Nothing's changed, Rival."

It was a lie, and from the arrogance of his expression, he knew but didn't call me on it. Instead he nodded and stepped back.

“I’ll let you get back to work. Thank you for helping.”

“You’re welcome.”

I headed back to my room and closed the door. I leaned against it, trying to make sense of the flutter in my stomach. This was just another day in the house where I now lived, with the man I was technically married to. No big deal.

So why the hell am I blushing?

Luckily another distraction landed and I was able to refocus. My phone vibrated on the bed and I crossed the room to grab it. I had a call from an unknown number.

"Sailor Addison."

"Ms. Addison, this is Detective Clover with Atlanta PD. I'm calling about your client, Fredrick Williams."

I immediately shifted into lawyer mode. "What about him?"

"There's been a development in the case. New evidence has come to light that suggests your client's involvement was more significant than previously thought."

Ahh, fuck!

"What kind of evidence?"

"I'd rather not discuss it over the phone. Could the two of you come down to the station tomorrow morning? Say, nine o'clock?"

"We'll be there, and detective? My client maintains his innocence. Whatever you think you've found, I'd advise against jumping to conclusions."

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