Page 69 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
Not knowing when they’ll be back, I toss back the sheet and hurry toward my robe, tying the knot before I’ve finished pulling the material tight.
The pale blue dress Brennan brought lies folded at the end of the bed, the lace undergarments stacked beside it—delicate, intimate.
I pick up the panties. They’re the size and style I usually wear. The dress is also the right size, as is the lacy bra.
Obviously he looked at my lingerie and wedding gown. Except…I’d been wearing Margaux’s dress. He’d apparently made a guess—a correct one—about what actually fits me.
“Isla!” Dorian calls. “Need help?”
God no.“I’ll be there soon!”
I dress slowly, deliberately, the lace sliding against my skin like a secret I can’t unlearn. The dress hugs me, showcasing the very few curves that I actually have. The cut, the fit… They’re both flattering. It’s something I would have chosen for myself.
Not that I can afford to be that extravagant on a teacher’s salary. I saw the label. Now that I’m away from my mother, I don’t even step inside stores that carry the brand.
Then I go into the bathroom to splash water onto my face.
My eyes are shadowed, and my hair is a wild, untamed mess. Half of it is still in the fancy updo, and other strands are hanging everywhere in long curls.
Less than forty-eight hours before, I was curled up on my bed, Calypso purring next to me while I enjoyed reading and working on my lesson plans.
And now my body aches, and I’m tender from last night’s…whatever it was. Dorian considerately taking my virginity, Brennan’s steady touch, the way I shattered between them. Then later, Dorian took me again with nothing but passion after I pushed him so hard.
This marriage is going to be heaven and hell.
Realizing there’s no way I can repair the damage to myhair without a brush and lots of time, I reposition a few bobby pins so that my hair looks somewhat tamed.
When I enter the living room, Dorian puts down his coffee cup and stands to greet me. Brennan is near a large, room-service type cart that’s loaded with pastries and fruit, hot water, tea, coffee, and chilled juices.
“You look beautiful.”
His compliment is unexpected, and I momentarily glance away to hide my blush. I know I’m not beautiful, but I appreciate him being polite.
“Blue is definitely your color,” Dorian tells me.
It matches my mood. Somehow, I manage to clamp my mouth shut before saying the words aloud. “Thank you. But I have plenty of my own clothes. There’s no need to spend money on me.”
A dangerous tic throbs in his temple.
“Something to eat?” Brennan suggests, cutting through the tension.
Even though I’m not really hungry, I probably should eat something. I’m not sure when I’ll have the chance again. If nothing else, I welcome the distraction from dueling with the man whose ring is too big on my finger. “Fruit sounds good.”
He begins loading up a plate with strawberries and blueberries. “Yogurt?”
“Thank you.” I nod.
As I move toward him, I notice a small mess on the floor. Wondering where it came from, I glance at the wall.
There’s a hole in it.
I look from Dorian to Brennan. “What happened?”
The answer is glaringly obvious since the damage resembles the shape and size of a fist.
Neither man responds.
But then I notice what I’d missed earlier in the bedroom.
