Page 105 of The Wrong Husband
The steward walks over with a snifter of whiskey and places it in the holder built into the armrest.
Yes, it’s almost dawn and I have a big day ahead, but I need the crutch of something a little more substantial to keep me going. I nod my thanks, and he leaves, sliding the doors to the galley shut behind him.
I cup my fingers around the tumbler. "We’re getting married. Surely, she should trust me with her secrets?"
“And have you told herallof your secrets?”
“I don’t have any… Not the kind she’s hinting at.”
“Have you told her about your undercover missions?”
I pause. “You know, I can’t. That shit’s classified.”
I sense Brody nodding.
“I’m not saying she’s right to shut you out. But you both have secrets. And you’ve known each other—what? A month?”
He has a point.
“That's the deal with marriages of convenience, right? You commit first. Then you unpack the rest…later. If you’re smart.”
I sip my whiskey, letting the burn remind me I’m still in control. I’ve known Phoenix for just over thirty days. Many people don’t reveal their real selves in thirty years.
I watched her before I ever spoke to her. I mapped her routines, her tells, her moods. I learned what makes her laugh, what grates on her nerves, what pulls her attention when she’s pretending not to care.
But knowing her preferences and her patterns isn’t the same as knowing her soul.
And I want that. I want her—entirely.
To get under her skin and stay there, I have to earn more than the right to her body. I need her trust. Her truth. Her past. Her fears. Her fire. Her secrets. The parts she doesn’t even show herself.
I know she feels the pull too—the gravity between us. It’s not just physical. It’s cellular. Atomic.
My pulse spikes every time she walks into the room. My brain generates white noise when she looks at me like she might let me in. It’s not want. It’s need.
And I know she feels it. She just doesn’t trust it yet.
Brody’s right.
I should stop expecting full surrender from someone still bracing for impact.
I need to give her room to breathe. Need to give her enough space to choose me on her own. Then, when she does… She won’t just open up. She’ll fall for me.
"When did you get this wise about relationships?" I scowl.
"Might have to do with watching each of you fall for your women and tie yourselves up in knots."
I hear the smirk in his voice.
"But seriously"—his tone turns serious—"give it time, eh?"
"Yeah." I lean back in my seat. "Thanks for the reminder."
"I assume Arthur doesn’t know about this sudden little trip of yours?"
"Of course, not."
He blows out a breath. "You realize, I’ll need to let him know?"
