Page 30 of Of Murder and Matrimony

Knuckles rapped against my office door, and Stefano let Olesya in when I called for them to enter. I stared at her, taken aback.

“Why are you wearing your wedding dress?” I barked, making her jump.

“You haven’t given me other clothes,” she answered through gritted teeth.

I mentally calculated the days. It was Monday afternoon, which meant she’d been wearing the dress for three days. Fuck.

Diego’s eyes widened a fraction, but he remained silent.

“Sit,” I ordered, pointing to the chair across from my desk. I smoothed my suit jacket as Olesya obeyed with a glare. Yes, she’d dance over my grave if I keeled over on the spot. She was beautiful, her angry eyes flashing and cheeks high with color. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, but she mistook it for disapproval.

“I’m so sorry to disappoint you, dear husband,” she said in a sugary sweet tone. “I would have worn something else had it been provided.”

“Save it.” I bit my cheek to hide a smile and explained why I had brought her to my office. I pointed to her right. “This is Diego. He will be assigned to you for the foreseeable future. If you need anything and I’m not immediately available, he will help you. Wherever you go, he goes.”

Her face softened when she looked at the hulking man. She had the nerve to extend her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Diego.”

“Mrs. Neretti.” Diego glanced at me but kept his hands to himself when I didn’t give him permission to touch my wife.

“Put your hand down, Olesya.” I waited for her to comply. “None of my men will lay a finger on you unless it’s a life or death situation. To touch my wife is to die.”

Her jaw dropped. “Really? A handshake is off-limits?”

“You can test me,” I said smoothly, “but know that you’ll be responsible for the death of any man who so much as brushes his palm against yours.”

Funny how marriage made me sound more like my homicidal brother. Maybe it was genetic.

Olesya crossed her arms and stared me down. “Fine. No humanity toward the guards, then. Are they allowed to speak to me, at least?”

“As long as they stay professional,” I offered.

“I’m not going to fuck them if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“My worries are irrelevant.” I tapped my desk for emphasis. “The only thing you should concern yourself with is following my rules.”

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” she hissed, fingertips digging into her pale flesh. I wanted to tear her hands away and tell her I was the only one allowed to mark her. “I’m the arm candy. The baby maker.”

“So mouthy,” I crooned as I stood, slowly stalking toward her until the tips of my shiny black leather shoes touched her bare toes. My thumb brushed across her lower lip. “Perhaps you should learn to listen more before you open that pretty mouth. Slow to speak, slow to anger. I’m sure you learned that as a child.”

“I could take a vow of silence, and that wouldn’t quell my anger toward you.” I barely pulled back before she snapped her teeth at me. Diego stepped forward, but I held a hand up to dissuade him.

Olesya jumped to her feet, but I wrapped my fingers around her throat before she could strike out at me. A smile turned my lips as I shook my head and clicked my tongue. “Careful, piccola fantasma. I assure you that whatever you are about to say or do would not be worth the punishment you’d incur.”

Her dress swirled around her legs like the apparition she was, taunting and tempting me to bend her over my desk and fuck her into submission. I could. Diego wouldn’t stop me. The idea of somebody watching us, seeing her naked, even if they didn’t look at women like that, made my blood boil.

A strangled noise escaped Olesya’s lips, and I released her, pushing her out of my reach so I couldn’t immediately sweep her into my arms. My fingertips burned from her touch, but fuck if I didn’t want to feel her against me again.

She just stood there, staring at me with wide blue eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I knew an aroused woman when I saw one. As much as she wanted to hate me, her body betrayed her at every turn. I could make her drop to her knees and beg for my cock with little effort.

No.

“I think you need to rest,” I said gruffly, turning and striding to the window, dismissing her. “Diego, take Mrs. Neretti to her room.”

“Yes, sir.” Diego walked to the door and held his hand out, waving for Olesya to go in front of him. She shot me one more caustic glance before holding her head high and exiting my office.

I held my breath until I heard the click of the latch. Then I paced in front of the window, berating myself for forgetting about my wife’s needs. When Diego returned, I stopped in my tracks.

“You’re to stay close to my wife,” I instructed. “And tell Martina to give Olesya two outfits. One for the day, one for the night.”

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