I didn’t answer. Too exhausted to do anything except breathe, I listened to the air conditioner and wondered if I was now pregnant with his child. Too late to consider sex with a condom.
Alaric tucked me against his ribcage, his strong arm around my shoulders. “How about a marital shower, then dinner?”
I giggled wearily. “I don’t think I can handle going out to eat.”
“I’ll cook, no worries.”
His bathroom was beautifully tiled and expensively crafted with a double set of sinks and a glass walled shower. The floor felt cool under my bare feet as I paced in behind Alaric’s massive frame. I admired his tightly muscled backside while he bent to turn the faucets on.
Under the warm spray, I lathered Alaric’s body, running my hands over his slick skin, his bulging muscles. I inwardly swore he’d handily win a Mr. Universe contest. He amazed me with such incredible strength that he touched me with a gentleness I didn’t realize he possessed.
His powerful hands caressed me with tender care, soaping my body and washing me as though I was of a priceless value to him. Perhaps I was. By marrying me, he gained his lawful inheritance.
My old self-loathing returned when it occurred to me Alaric could have married a ho and still inherit his loot.
I didn’t matter.
Not to anyone.
Enjoy married life while you can. He’ll kick you to the curb once he gets his money.
Low self-esteem or not, great sex made me hungry. And Alaric turned out to be a damn good cook. I ignored the divorce proceedings hovering in my near future, and breathed in the wonderful odors of grilled steak. After our shower, he’d donned a pair of jeans and nothing else as he worked in his immaculate kitchen.
“Wine?” he asked, opening the fridge. “I don’t have vodka.”
“Sounds great.”
He poured an expensive red blend into two glasses, then sat at the table with me. I sipped the fruity wine, rolling it around my tongue as though I knew what a fine wine tasted like. It slid into my stomach as smoothly as milk, and went straight to my head.
“Thank you for doing this,” Alaric said, holding his glass without drinking. “Marrying me. You didn’t have to.”
“You paid me well enough,” I replied, sipping again.
“That’s true, I suppose.”
“Just don’t divorce me too soon, all right?” I chuckled. “I like being in this house.”
Alaric frowned, staring into his wine. “I like having you here.”
“But?”
“But?”
“There’s always a but,” I commented. “I heard it. You like having me here, but I’m out as soon as you get your inheritance.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
I drank again, feeling the wine’s heat feeding into my blood. “I’ll stay until I get a car, another place to live. I can afford both now. I know you don’t like me much, and since I don’t know how I feel about you, I’ll stay out of your way.”
Alaric stood and crossed the kitchen to the smokeless indoor grill, then turned the steaks. “Please don’t rush to leave.”
Nonplussed, I drained my glass and stared into space. I didn’t allow myself to hope he wanted me around because he liked me. No doubt, he needed me as insurance, possibly to testify that we did indeed marry and consummated the marriage. I wondered if someone from his country would come and demand proof before granting him his money.
Setting my steak in front of me, Alaric poured more wine into my glass.
“Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage?” I asked, chuckling.
“But of course.”
