“Them?”
“At least two of my men with you at all times. It’s this, or you stay here.” I sigh. Yeah, okay, I guess we can call this a compromise. “Maybe we’ll switch to one if things settle, but in the meantime, two of them,” he explains. I nod, my gaze drifting to his large, tattooed hands.
Those hands look like they have killed a thousand men and ruined hundreds of women.
“Alright, one more thing: we’re hosting dinner tomorrow night,” he adds, his voice faltering a bit. “Just my sister and her husband, nothing big.”
“Really?” Joining my fists in front of my chest like I had just been told I would get a present. “That’s so exciting! What should I wear?”
Ares’s brows furrows, his eyes darkening on my short pink top.
“Anything else that has more fabric than this will do,” he says with a sarcastic tone.
Lifting my chin up, I reply, “You can really be a jerk sometimes, you know?” He tilts his head at my answer.
“The fuck you just say to me?” The vein of his forehead pulses with rage.
“Just saying, big guy. You should stop trying so hard. Eyes don’t lie,” I remark, punching him in the gut with my fire. I’ve seen the way Ares drinks me up from head to toe each time he sees me, arranged marriage or not, I know he’s attracted to me. It doesn’t take a lot in life to understand how lust dances in a man’s eyes like a predator ready to feast on its prey. His eyes widen slightly as if he was trying so damn hard to conceal his astonishment. Bet no one talks to him that way here.
Clenching his jaw, he gets closer to me, his scent so close I can inhale it.
“You’re right, Mia,” he almost purrs, lowering his mouth to my ear, his breath hitting my jawline and decorating my skin with goosebumps. “Watching you in those tight clothes every night makes me want to give you a burn so good you’ll forget why you were ever put into this fucking marriage in the first place.” His rough hands drift to my wrists and encircle them.
Just like on our wedding day.
I clear my throat, my mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara.
“But you see, Mia, it doesn’t matter how much fabric you’ve got on your perfect little body ‘cause I don’t plan on touching you. You’re a business deal to me. Nothing more,” he murmurs in a sultry voice hitting me right in the guts, where hatred and lust fight relentlessly.
Of course I am. That’s what you are when you get forced to marry someone else.
You’re a part of a deal.
A chess piece.
Disposable, forgettable, worthless.
I swallow hard hearing the truth I wish I didn’t have to listen out loud. No one likes to know they could disappear thenext morning and no one would ever look for them. No one likes to know they are married to someone who doesn’t care about them at all. And yet, that’s my reality. I try to compose myself, removing my wrists from his hold and stepping back. My eyes lock with his, pride pouring out of my gaze as I try to ignore the fire he just set inside my belly.
“Good,” I declare with the rest of the confidence I gather in myself. “That makes both of us.” A switch in his eyes tells me he’s not buying it one bit, but I refuse to admit it to him.
“Yeah, good,” he answers dryly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
I hiss in a breath before turning right back into the living room, feeling his burning gaze shooting holes in my back. No matter what he says, I do have an effect on him.
Good or bad, that's what I need to find out.
Chapter 5
Ares
Those damn leggings.
I tried to tell her to change, but fuck if she’ll ever listen to me. It was hard enough to focus with her in the same room as me, but with her tight top and that sticky leopard thingy, I almost broke my back teeth from how hard I was clenching my jaw.
Fake marriage or not, my wife is a knockout. A knockout who won’t listen to me, but still. This woman doesn’t seem to care about rules and saying it’s pissing me off would be an understatement. I’m used to giving orders and getting results. Folks don’t argue with me unless they have a fucking death wish.
I haven’t told her yet that I’ve found a place for her to work near the club and I already got a crew redecorating it for her. Maybe it’s too soon, I don't know. The idea of Nero hiding in the shadows, ready to take her away, doesn’t sit well with me. Our marriage isn’t like any real one, but I still vowed to physically protect her, and I will.
