Page 28 of Falling for the Wife

“Going somewhere?”

I whipped my head around, only to find Jared leaning against the closet’s doorframe. Pensive as he severely scrutinized the piece of cloth in my possession.

With nothing but a slinky thong and stilettos on, I wasn’t even an ounce uncomfortable baring my almost naked state. In fact, I proudly arched my back, emphasizing my jutting breasts in total defiance. Jared had been blatant about not being attracted to me whatsoever. Witnessing my starkness shouldn’t faze him. I felt as though I had to prove a point—that his non-attraction to me hadn’t dented my confidence.

“Yeah, I have this thing…” I trailed off, not sure where Wyatt was taking me tonight.

“With whom?”he pressed. The weight of his stare troubled me. His displeasure was palpable. The deep frown etched on his face stated as much. Instead of focusing on his foul mood, I noted how his unbuttoned dress shirt gave me a glimpse of his sculpted physique. My mouth watered at the sight of his chest.

What did they call shameless women who kept pursuing even though the men had rejected them?A hopeless case. This was me…all these years…I held onto false hopes. Desperation made one a fool.

Everything in life was about choice. Right or wrong, it was a choice. If you were overweight, daydreaming about being skinny, but you chose not to do something about it? That was a choice. If you decided to cheat on your significant other, that was not temptation addling your mind. You made that choice. If you hurt someone because they hurt you, that was a choice. Life was an obstacle. Good or bad, we got to choose which path to take. There wouldn’t be changes if the choices you made were the same ones that got you there in the first place. You could only be defeated if you remained insouciant. Like a sick never-ending cycle that slowly drained you dry until all hope had left you. But instead of cowering, it was my choice not to hunt down a tub of coffee ice cream, plop onto the couch, and watch reruns of Sex and The City while I bawled tears, seeing Carrie’s never-ending heartbreak over Mister Big. So tonight, I chose me. It was always going to be me from now on until the very end. If being selfish would get me to where I needed to be, then so be it.

The only thing hindering such esteemed progression was Jared, who chose to linger in the background. Appearing not ready to leave until he had all the information he needed.

Dragging my eyes away from his inquisitive cerulean blues, I mindlessly caressed the soft texture of the silk in my hand with my thumb. “I’m going out with Blair’s brother, Wyatt.” I’m sure he knew who Wyatt was. There was no need for explanation. So why did it seem as though he still wasn’t ready to drop the subject?

Jared shifted his feet, hands in his pockets, unreadable as ever. “You’re going to see him dressed inthat?”

Not all men found me revolting. Was that news to him? It sure seemed so. “Yes. Definitelydressedin this.” Wyatt was a major flirt and a little pervy when drunk. However, I found that I wasn’t bothered by it. I had grown up with the man. He wouldn’t do anything inappropriate…unless I let him.“Why do you ask? Do you find it ugly or something? I kind of like it…”

“The notorious Wyatt Rinaldi won’t be looking anywhere else but your cleavage.”

“Huh.” The idea didn’t bother me. We were going to dinner, not a strip club. Jared was being unreasonable. He was twenty-seven years old and acted like he was in his fifties.God, remind me again why I’m obsessed with him?Apart from my physical attraction to him, we didn’t really have anything in common. Again, why him? Maybe I’d isolated myself too much. Declined almost every date and invitation that came my way from men closer to my age. Also, it didn’t help that I had this uncanny knack for comparing each man to Jared as if he was a demigod of some sort. He closely resembled one, but the man didn’t need to know that. His ego was inflated as it was.

“You’re still planning to wear that offensive dress?”

Offensive?To whom?He made it sound as though I’d announced I was to become a hooker for the night. “I am. Why do you keep nagging like an old lady? Getting gawked at shouldn’t stop me from wearing something I like. If I did that, I’d end up wearing sweats.”

“You like drawing attention from men who look at you as if you’re the type to have sex in a bathroom stall?”

I innocently blinked at him. “I don’t mind it at all—the attention or the bathroom stall sex.” Sexually, I was still inexperienced. Jack Yates wasn’t gifted in the sack, nor did his four-incher shed any enlightenment on the matter. Maybe it was the shock of having experienced Jared then Jack, but the comparison was nonexistent.

After the chaos with Jack, I’d prefer to be single for a long time. I wouldn’t shy away from dating anymore, but it’d take quite a man to convince me that he was worth my time and effort.

I shrugged before giving him my back. Carefully, I leisurely slid the soft silky material over my body. My breasts were in such good shape that I rarely needed a bra. It hugged my figure like a glove. Glancing down at my cleavage, I saw my nipples were safe from anyone’s viewing pleasure.

“Did you need something, Jared?” I asked.

He looked like a formidable statue lazily leaning against the doorframe as though seeing me dress entertained him. “Everyone with eyes knows you have a marvelous figure. I don’t see the need to flaunt it, Gisele.”

“Lectures from you? Really, Jared?” I already had a father. He didn’t need to act the part. He was one to talk when he had paraded women who dressed in less clothing than this slip dress I was wearing. As a result, he could kindly shove his opinions back to where they came from. If he aimed to irritate me so my night would be ruined, he could think again.

When I strutted towards him so I could pass, the man had the nerve to remain unmoving. “Move!” I harshly grated when he continued to block my way. “I have to fix my hair.” He was over six-foot-four, and even at my tall height, I still had to lift my chin to meet his gaze. The moment our eyes connected, the intensity I found there left me breathless. Stormy, like the color of a murky ocean when a hurricane was on the horizon. Or the color of the sky before a snowstorm. Dark. Embattled. And chilling.

“Don’t go…this might cause your father to doubt us,” he delivered in a monotonous tone, but the mayhem in his eyes persisted.

Jared really had spectacular eyes. I could lose myself in them. Instead of battling the storm, I’d ride each stroke of emotions until I’d drowned myself all the way to the very depths of his soul. Embedding myself in the vast soul-sucking pools of his psyche. I yearned for the unattainable. I’d longed for him to light the fire within me, stroking the passion that would define me. And it seemed I was destined to crave something that wasn’t mine. It would ruin me. All the warnings were there. All I had to do was look him in the eye and I’d find my doom.

My heart was unsettled, torn between the reality and the dream. But it wasn’t a matter of choice; it was a matter of perspective.Imattered. My feelings mattered. I could no longer ignore the hurt and the savageness his callous actions caused me. At the end of the day, I only had myself. If I didn’t put myself into perspective, who would?

“The staff knows my hectic social calendar. As for my father, he won’t care. He never did. I’ve been the boss of my own life since fifteen. I go as I please. Besides, everyone in the household knows what we have is an arranged one. They won’t expect us to get all chummy immediately,” I haughtily pointed out before I caught sight of his neck. “You’re a little flushed. Are you drunk?”

“A little.” He snickered before his face grew serious. Intense powerful orbs began to penetrate my resolve, my senses, as he pulled me in, possessing my ability to function. It was as if he commanded my body to breathe for him, to live for him. My eyes longingly dropped to his lips. They stayed there, hovering, hoping, wondering what it was like to feel his lips against mine. I felt feverish. The temperature immediately skyrocketed in the closet. It stifled us, engulfing our bodies in its blistering heat. And I was…parched.

His palm cradled my cheek. It felt warm and wonderful against my skin as he slowly lifted my face to his. “Stay…it’s our wedding night…we can hang out, watch movies, and maybe we can try to get to know each other better. Just…stay.”

Ourfakewedding night, I wanted to correct him but decided not to waste my breath. In the blink of an eye, the haze he had cast over me instantly vanished. Common sense kicked in full throttle.

---