Page 39 of Miss Understood

I try to remind myself I can’t stand her. That she doesn’t hold her tongue and has an incessant need to try and put me in my place. But it’s no longer making this any more bearable.

As I shrug on my suit jacket, I look out at the city, which is blinking through the wall of windows on the far side of my bedroom. The dark bay takes up the majority of my view, soaking up the lights that sprinkle from the buildings around it. It’s an ocean as deep as the hole in my chest feels right now.

Tonight weighs heavy on my mind. It’s the first real test for whatever this is Luce and I are trying to pull off. Something neither of us intended that now feels necessary. And as I look out across the water that stretches into the darkness, I realize it isn’t the secret getting out that scares me—it’s something darker playing just under the surface.

I hear the click of Luce’s bedroom door and take a final glance in the mirror before I go to meet her.

I’ve always been a confident man. My height and build generally sell me before I even have to try with a woman. I’m not used to working hard to impress or to get a woman to bed. But Luce is the opposite; she makes me work for every inch, every smile. She second-guesses me at every turn and questions every word out of my mouth. And I’m not sure how to process the fact that I don’t mind. I might even find it…fascinating.

When I emerge from my room, I find Luce once more in front of the windows. It’s almost as if she never moved, but the backdrop behind her transformed from a sunny day to a rainy evening. And her, from sweet to sexy. Collected to untamed.

She spins in one swift turn, and instead of the frowns, grimaces, and glares I’m accustomed to, she smiles.

“You ready?” she says.

Two words that leave me winded.

I’ve seen work Luce, polished and composed. I’ve seen soft Luce, sick and cuddled under a blanket. I’ve seen her spending time with friends. But nothing can prepare me for the flash of light that’s glowing at me right now, front and center in my apartment, framed by the dark Seattle night.

Luce’s white-blonde hair falls in a cascade of waves over one shoulder, leaving half her neck bare and inviting. She’s in a strapless, floor-length white dress that hugs every inch of her body, revealing only one leg with a slit that trails so far up her hip, there’s no way she’s wearing anything underneath.

And then there’s those lips. That cherry red that haunts my dreams and my every waking thought, ticked up into a wicked smile that eats me alive.

She’s not just gorgeous, but a walking fantasy.

“You look…” I try to find words that will do her an ounce of justice.

She steps toward me, and either she’s moving in slow motion, or my head isn’t catching up.

“I know,” she says with a reserved smile, sliding up in front of me and running her fingers down my lapel. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Fuck, this woman. Never has confidence been so damn sexy.

I kick an elbow out, and she wraps her hands around it, her delicate fingers fitting perfectly into the crook of my arm.

“Mr. Davis.” She looks up at me with a smile.

I nudge her side. “Mrs. Davis.”

Her eyes narrow, but she can’t hide the slight smile at the corner of her mouth.

“Shall we?”

These events are always mind-numbing. I’d rather be at the gym, or even in court facing off with someone I despise. Anywhere except an overdecorated ballroom full of soulless politicians and—worse—fellow lawyers. Rich, overconfident. Placing overpriced auction bids, each hoping to outdo the other.

I’d like to think I’m not as boring and self-involved as these jerks. But I find myself among them again.

I head over to the bar and leave the ass-kissing to Brad, who is wrapped in a debate about firm politics with Troy Rinehart, managing partner at a competing firm.

Troy’s a lot like me: people love to hate him. He throws his money at anything nice and is constantly surrounded by legs and tits. But where I’m a little more up-front with my intentions, Troy is known for being a little more calculated. Ruthless. He’s a snake in the grass, and I’ve been bitten a few too many times to trust him.

My eyes scan the room before landing on Luce halfway across it. Men circle around her, eating up her every word. One smile, and she sweeps the entire Meridian Gala off its feet. Me along with it.

One bare leg is still strategically sticking out of that never-ending slit. She’s standing there like a fucking masterpiece.

My wife.

The thought kicks down the door in my head before I have a chance to lock it.

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