Page 101 of Bad Boss

Bastard. Summoning every ounce of calm I have left, I inhale through my nose and exhale a single statement. “Then let’s pretend I have the same reasons, because I’m not wearing it.”

Bellamy sighs. Closing his eyes, he rubs at his temple with the index finger of his right hand while the other gestures at me in the universal symbol of “hurry up.” “Put it on, Evelyn.”

“No.”

His eyes open, blazing from beneath the shadow cast by his hand. “Put on the goddamn ring—”

“Make me.”

His entire body visibly recoils. He blinks again and seems to have trouble regaining his composure. In the end, he has to adjust his tie, wrenching on the navy tail. “Evely—”

“I’m not wearing it,” I snap. I don’t know what makes me throw out a terse, “Husband,” for good measure. Maybe it’s to watch him squirm. But then, my lips keep moving before my brain can catch up. “Unless, of course, you earn it. Make me put it on.”

“W-What?” His eyebrows shoot up an inch higher on his forehead. That notoriously callous mouth narrows into a dangerous, flat line. I know I’m in for it, even before the bastard inhales sharply, and then… he chuckles. “Challenge accepted,” he declares with nothing but pure malice gleaming in those eyes. “Dearestwife.”

Rather than try to force the ring onto my finger, he merely waits until the car stops before a destination I’ve become all too familiar with within the past week—a chic boutique.

Uh-Oh.A foreboding knot starts to gather in my stomach, but I do my best to ignore it.

“Did you want to do some shopping, Mr. Bellamy?” I ask while following his gaze to the front of Bristol’s.

“Why, yes I do, wife,” he calls back to me as he exits the car. As if in afterthought, he extends one hand in my direction, which I pointedly ignore as I follow him out. That doesn’t stop him from dishing out another taunt. “And I would like for you to call me, Graeme.”

“I think I prefer Mr. Bellamy.” I keep my voice clipped, my posture tense just in case he decides to throw something. It’s only when my fingers clench that I realize I have my own potential missile in hand—the ring box. I heft it, watching smugly as his eyes track every movement of the small shape. With the sweetest smile I can muster, I offer it to him. “I suggest you take this back, darling.”

His eyes narrow into slits. “I suggest you put it on, Luv.”

There it is again. I flinch unconsciously as the bastard smirks in triumph. Given that we’re parked before a busy street in the thick of afternoon traffic, I’ll humor him by not causing a scene. Yet. After all, if there is one thing I learned after my time in the corporate world, it’s that the biggest fireworks were best put on where they could reap the most collateral damage.

“After you,” Graeme prompts, stepping aside to usher me into the store. A shiver runs down my spine as I take in the racks of delicate lace and perfectly tailored satin that consume the spacious interior. Each garment feels like a live grenade, ripe for the throwing by none other than Graeme Bellamy, devious bastard extraordinaire.

Determined to maintain his throne, the bastard heads straight toward the back, where I know one section to be. “Come darling,” he calls back to me. “I have something to show you.”

Oh god.My stomach sinks down to my toes, but I do my best to disguise the reaction with a smile wide enough to put his charming grin to shame. Our gazes lock, trapping the poor sales associate between us. She nervously clears her throat and steps into the background. Smart girl.

“Interested in trying some lingerie for yourself, Mr. Bellamy?” That’s the safest scenario that comes to mind as he stops beside a hanging display—a black bustier paired with a lacy scrap of fabric that I assume is meant to be worn as underwear.

“Not tonight.” Suddenly, his voice becomes gravelly and thick. Dangerous. He steps toward me, and from the corner of my eye, I see his head lower, bringing his next words directly into my ear. “You told me to make you wear my ring, correct?”

Oh no.I wrestle my hands flat against the skirt of my dress, if only to hide the way they shake. “I think the discussion was more along the lines of never—”

“Let us propose a wager,” he says over me. “A proper one. With… stakes.”

“Like what?” I do my best to smother the tremor in my voice to no avail.

“Like… until the moment you put on that damn ring, we continue through this wedding day. Hmmm? You cannot refuse a single activity I propose.” Thick fingers cinch my wrist, not tight enough to hurt. Just enough to reinforce the terms of the bet. “So, pick out your dress, darling. Our honeymoon suite awaits.”

“No.” I step back, wrenching my hand from his grip. No amount of space seems far enough, however. I set my sights on the front of the store and keep walking. “If you think thismarriagemeans I’ll bow down to your every whim—”

“You flatter yourself, luv,” Bellamy says. The amusement in his voice alone stops me in my tracks. Like a predator, I sense him stalk up behind me, once again taking full advantage of my inability to resist a dare. “Sorry to disappoint, but this has nothing to do with bowing down, as you say. This is about one question and one question only—you, Evelyn King, can’t even perform her wifely duty for one damn night. And here I was, convinced that you could at least last longer than twenty-four hours.”

“Don’t.” I’m not sure exactly who I’m talking to. Bellamy? Or myself.Not again. Don’t fall for this again.

“Don’t what?” A piece of my hair is seized from behind and twisted around a crooked finger. A playful tug jerks my head sideways, closer to the warm lips grazing my shoulder. “Tell the truth. You can’t even go through the motions, can you—”

“Fine.” I pull away from him, scanning the priceless garments on display. My eyes narrow when they land over a fitting weapon.Bingo.“We’ll play your game, Bellamy. I’ll pick out a dress.” My outfit of choice is one of white lace with delicate navy accents. “The blue seems rather fitting,” I say as I run my fingers over the bodice. “Seeing as how that’s the color you’ll be when this night is over.” I glance pointedly at the front of his slacks, pleased to see him stiffen.

“Is that so?” He flashes a smile that chills me to the core. “Funny. I envision a very different… happy ending.”

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