Page 19 of His Forgotten Wife
If that sounded like issuing marching orders to the matriarch, then so be it.
She was here because she felt obligated to Ares. Even when he turned her upside down, she trusted him implicitly.
In short, she could deal with whatever he threw at her. But his family was another matter. Dolly wasn’t going to let anyone treat her as if she was rubbish. She had had enough of that from her aunt.
Juliana flicked her head, which sent the attendants scurrying out of the suite. Arabella lingered near the threshold, seemingly unsure of whether to stay or flee.
“I let you rest for two days, my dear,” Juliana began with a saccharine sweetness that made Dolly’s teeth ache. “But there is a certain…standard, shall I say—” she paused, as if she had to search for the word “—to maintain when you enter the Demetrius family. Even from the margins. I have come to make sure that you and your wardrobe…” her steely gray gaze, so much like her son’s, touched Dolly from head to toe, somehow managing to dismiss her in the same glance “…meet those standards. Our family, friends, even the media will focus on you. I’m sure you do not want to embarrass yourself or Ares in any way.”
Flames of anger licked at Dolly, but she held her temper in check. Where had her protectiveness been when her stepsons were tormenting Ares as a confused boy? And what did she think to achieve by alienating her son’s fiancée?
“I’ve been by Ares’s side for nine years without embarrassing him or myself,” she said, meeting the woman’s eyes. “And since you’re clearly here to insult me, I’ll make this easy. Please don’t waste your energy and effort on alienating me. Ares will not like it. I dare say I know him better than any of you.”
Without waiting for her response, Dolly marched to the walk-in closet.
Which was twice the size of her bedroom under the stairs at her aunt’s house before she had found her own place. Her mind whirred at Juliana’s comments as she studied her meager wardrobe.
Granted, her choice of clothes was limited. But if Ares, or his damned family, was ashamed of how she dressed, that was not her problem.
Biting her lip, she rifled through her clothes and picked white linen shorts, and a yellow crop top she’d bought on an impulse. Grinning, she pulled them on. When she cast a look at herself in the full-length mirror, it was to discover that a large strip of her belly was left bare and the stretchy material clung to her small breasts.
Her first instinct was to cover herself up.
Dolly reached for the usual loose T-shirts that she bought in bulk and wore at home. But remembering who was standing outside the closet stopped her. As did the gray gaze of another who took her for granted, and had once erupted quite cruelly at her foolish admission that she was attracted to him.
The knot of hurt from his outburst still pulled at her chest painfully.
Why had Ares been so angry at her confession? Had he also assumed that she was after his wealth, that she truly coveted the status and power that came from being his wife?
Or was it because she had forced him to see her as a woman? Had he assumed that she was like the bot he was designing, that she didn’t feel or crave affection?
The reminder bolstered her flagging courage. She quickly braided her still damp hair, swiped on sunscreen and lip gloss and thrust her feet into sandals.
When she returned to the living room, Juliana and her attendants were gone. Arabella, however, lingered.
Dolly’s skin prickled as the teenager looked at her with unabashed curiosity. “Please forgive my mother’s behavior. She worries about Ares.”
“Not your fault,” Dolly said, straightening all the things she’d thrown around the room. “I’m a bit surprised that you’re being friendly toward me. Was this an order from your pushy brother?”
Arabella’s eyes widened. “You’re not at all intimidated by him, are you?”
“There’s no need to be,” Dolly said, half lying.
She was intimidated by Ares, but not for the same reasons as his younger sister.
There’s no perfect man for you out there, Dahlia, but me…
His teasing comment had been haunting her.
What if it was true? What if she was never able to connect with any other man like she had with Ares? Where did that leave her?
Whether it was the jet lag or the nightmares she’d had since hearing about Ares’s accident, or the fact that her grandfather’s health was rapidly declining, her dreams had been far too disruptive and her sleep fretful at best.
Even at his peak health, Grandpa hadn’t been an effusive person. At his happiest with her, Dolly would get a slight tap on her cheek from him. Not that she’d ever doubted his affection for her.
But it meant it had been years since anyone had held her properly, or touched her even.
When she woke up from one of those dreams, near tears and shaken, she craved to be held and touched. So badly that it gouged a deep cavern inside her.
