Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
It shouldn’t matter now.
Except for some reason, it did.
“No.” She didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to think about what she’d done with other men, and I really didn’t want to think about why that made me so irrationally mad.
The only good thing about these parties was the food, which was usually decent, and I hadn’t had time to eat at work today.
“I find your attitude surprising,” she said as she plucked a morsel off a silver tray.
“And why is that?”
“It seems a little hypocritical. Aren’t you one of the men who just ‘play at being a master of the universe,’ as you put it, or am I mistaken?”
“You’re mistaken and out of line,” I said, reaching for my own stuffed mushroom cap.
She arched a perfectly shaped brow in challenge. “Then I apologize. I didn’t realize you started your family business yourself. I thought your father handed it to you like his father handed it to him.”
She had made her point, but she had no idea what she was starting.
“Tell me then, Ms. Astrid, what have you accomplished in your life that is so noteworthy?”
If she was already my wife, I would be looking forward to punishing her for the way she talked back to me.
She would learn her place at my feet soon enough.
“Nothing.” She shrugged, unbothered by my observation. “I have the privilege of coming from generational wealth, but the misfortune of being a woman. No one will ever hand me a business or even give me the opportunity to pursue a fortune of my own. My passions are of little consequence and will never amount to more than hobbies. But I don’t look down on those around me just because they are in a similar situation.”
“Good, then when we are married you can do these insipid events in my stead.”
“Fine.” She didn’t add to that, she just looked up at a painting of a man with ruddy cheeks against a pitch-black background. I was sure the mini spotlight and the hand-carved cross work on the frame, painted with gold leaf, made it appear darker than it was.
“You can’t possibly like these events, being surrounded by brain-dead imbeciles too drunk on their own self-importance?” I asked.
“As you may have noticed when you interrupted my wedding by blackmailing my mother, I rarely get what I want.” She tried to take a step away from me, unsuccessful when I pressed my hand on her arm in mine, not letting her leave.
“Was being Marksen’s wife what you wanted?” Rancor laced my words, and I didn’t bother hiding it.
“No.”
The finality in her tone surprised me.
CHAPTER 5
LUC
We made our way into the grand ballroom, and I was right. The room was three stories high, and people milled about on the second-story balcony. The third, however, was empty. Probably roped off somewhere to keep the guests out of offices or even personal rooms.
The interior was dim enough to offer the illusion of a more intimate affair, and light reflecting off the glittering chandelier flitted around the space. I had the sudden urge to lead Amelia into the ballroom and dance with her, letting those errant beams of light hit her sparkling dress so it shimmered like stars.
The compulsion to show her off, to show everyone she was mine, was strong, even if Dubois had had her first.
Something about her was different, and I was determined to find out what it was.
Too bad I was not the type of man to dance. I knew how, of course; I chose not to. Most of the time.
“I heard the most interesting rumor,” I whispered into Amelia’s ear, again surprised by her refreshingly crisp, clean scent. I wanted to bury my nose in her hair so I could smell only her and none of the others.
“Is it the one about the barbarian who embarrassed the woman he had never met before by ruining her wedding and claiming her like she was livestock that strayed from its keep?”
Her face hardly moved as she spoke. Her soft, pleasant smile was still firmly in place despite the harshness of her tone. It took me a moment to process what she’d said.
“No, darling.” I gritted my teeth. “It was the one about the vapid Upper East Side princess who didn’t have the manners to wait where she was told so her husband could pick her up like a proper gentleman.”
“No.” She met my eye, and for a moment, I could have sworn I glimpsed a flash of genuine emotion.
It was rage or hatred, but still it was a crack in that porcelain face.
“I hadn’t heard that. It must have been quite the scandal. After all, Upper East Side princesses only ever do what they are told. Our only real purpose in life is to look pretty, obey, and breed. Like purebred bitches.”