Page 82 of Bitter Arrangement

I pause for a second. I’m about to apologize more, but something about that bugs me. “Our house,” I correct.

His jaw ticks in frustration. “Does it matter? This point is?—”

“No, Alexan, seriously.” I step toward him, hands on my hips. “Ourhouse. I want to see you say it.”

His expression hardens. “I don’t need to.”

“But now I feel like you really do.”

“I’ve done nothing but welcome you here. I don’t need to say anything in my defense. I’m not the one on trial here.”

“That’s what this is? You’re having a trial for me?”

“No, it’s just an expression.”

“An expression you used.” I pick up a wooden elephant. “I get it, this isn’t your taste, but it’s mine. And I live here now, right?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Then I get a say in how it looks, right?”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s the point to me. You just said it.Myhouse, notourhouse. I get it, this marriage is new and it’s not something either of us asked for, but come on. At least pretend like you want to make it work.”

He comes at me then. It’s a shock when he grabs me by the waist and pulls me toward him, slamming my body against his. He turns and pins me up against the counter, looming over me like a demon. His hands press against my hips.

“Do you really fucking think I don’t want to make this work?” he says quietly, but there’s an edge to his tone.

“I don’t really know what you want,” I admit. My heart’s racing. I’m not afraid of him, but I can tell I hit a nerve, and I’m worried I might’ve gone too far.

He leans down. His lips brush against my neck, and he lets out a soft snarl of frustration. Tingles run down my spine.

“Maybe I haven’t made it clear to you yet. This started out as an arrangement. It started out as something neither of us wanted. But now it’s different.”

“Different… how?”

“You’re my wife.” He kisses my shoulder. His right hand moves up to grip my hair. “You’re a part of my life.”

“Are you saying that because of the whole Mantis thing?”

“I’m saying that in spite of them. God, baby, you really don’t get it, do you?”

I steady myself by pressing my hands into his chest. He pulls back, staring into my eyes. There’s a hidden reservoir of emotion in that expression, and I’m struck all over again by how good he is at hiding it.

“Make me get it then.”

He leans forward. His lips press to mine gently. “Is that why you made a mess ofourhouse? Because you wanted me to punish you?”

“Don’t be so arrogant.”

He pulls my hair lightly. I let out a little gasp. “Admit it, baby. You made this mess because you like it when I get angry.”

Honestly, that hadn’t even occurred to me, but it’s a nice bonus. “There you go, being arrogant again.”

The low, throaty laugh he makes drives every inch of me wild.

“Is it arrogance?” He kisses me again, this time with more hunger. “Or is it just the truth?”

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