"There you are," he was apparently not in the mood to be merciful, because Williams stepped into her space, gently pushing her away from the door and under his scrutiny. "Beautiful." He drew out the word appreciatively, looking her body over as Lauren tried not to squirm. "Here," thrusting her spandex shorts at her, he smiled maliciously, "I thought you'd like to stretch your legs a bit and go running with me." He watched as her pink mouth opened helplessly, then his bride shut it with a snap.
"Fine..." Looking up at his cooling expression, she hastily added, "uh, Thomas."
Stepping out of the house, Lauren followed her new husband down the stairs, noting Chuck already parked discreetly at the curb and starting up the car to follow them. Thomas started them out in the opposite direction from her travels yesterday, but they looped around the little park and still ended up at the bakery Lauren had embraced.
"Nice to see you again!" yelped the cheerful young man at the counter, smiling at Lauren. His beaming expression wilted under Thomas's thoughtful stare. "Uh, hi, Mr. Williams. What can I get you?"
"My wife and I," Thomas inserted smoothly, enjoying the look of shock on the boy's face, "would like a Columbian dark with cream and a hot chai tea latte." He ignored Lauren staring up at him. Of course, he would know what his new bride ordered for her caffeine fix. The same way he knew she'd been a virgin. That her pretty little friend from America wasn't speaking to her. That Lauren had made cautious friendship overtures to her new bodyguard, Straker. The same way he'd specifically selected the man because he knew Straker missed his own daughters. And that his volunteering to look after Lauren was somehow a kind of redemption for the man. Which meant he would give his life for Thomas's sweet new bride. Because Thomas Williams was not a man who let anything to chance.
Anything.
Chapter 9 – Safe Words and Too Many Cocktails
In which Lauren samples new cocktails. And new sex positions.
Thomas could see that it unnerved her.
That he knew she liked hot chai tea lattes. That she'd been here before. That he felt the need to brutally shut down any mild hopes the nice young man at the counter might have had towards his (once again, that infuriating designation as "his") might have had towards his Lauren. As they accepted their drinks, the light smell of her heated skin from running together made his nostrils flare appreciatively as they found a place to sit. Thomas watched his new wife curl inside herself.
"So..." she finally ventured. "Is there anyone in my life now that doesn't report back to you?"
Frowning just slightly behind his Ray Bans, Williams watched the drooping head of his bride, not looking at him as she examined her paper cup with an unnecessary degree of interest. "It's my job to keep you safe, darling," Thomas said calmly.
He was unprepared for the level of rage he encountered when Lauren's furious gaze met his. "Keep me safe?" she hissed, at least attempting to keep her anger at a manageable level. "Keep mesafe?You stole my life, you-"
"Mr. Williams, what a pleasure!"
Lauren gritted her teeth and looked down at her chai.
"...congratulations, of course, on your happy news!" The supercilious creature still fawning over Thomas was beginning to strain the fine lines around his mouth, a "tell" that Lauren was coming to recognize as, "I'm going to be polite because we're in public but if you don't shut the fuck up, I'll kill you."
"Hello, I'm 'the wife,' I guess," Lauren chuckled humorlessly, "what's your name?" She pointedly extended her hand, hating the look of subtle amusement on her horrible husband's face.
"Oh!" The creature assaulting her husband stilled, perhaps in shock as she turned towards 'The Bride.' "Ah... Maryanne Harding, from the Berkshire Harding’s? We're neighbors, you know- oh, you're new to the neighborhood, so of course-" The effusive creature's narrative died off as she examined Williams's mysterious and lovely new bride up close. Bloodyhell, the girl was beautiful, of course. A forced social smile was spreading across those pretty pink lips of hers.
"It's a pleasure, Mrs. uh, Harding. I hope you'll forgive my cluelessness, I'm still learning about the neighborhood," Lauren lied with a warm smile and an equally ignorant understanding of who this woman was and if Mrs. Harding even mattered. For instance, if her new husband didn't like this officious woman,wouldhe kill her? Like, if this person that Lauren did not know was annoying enough to murder, would Thomas just... make it happen? In the woman's expensive stainless-steel kitchen? Driving home from the spa to find her brake lines cut a little too late? Lauren didn't know who her scary new spouse murdered, or why. And the enormity of this realization stopped the girl dead in her tracks, no matter how desperately she tried to pretend everything was "normal."
Eyeing his wife's sudden pallor, Williams's brow creased and he smoothly cut off Maryanne Harding's (from the Berkshire Harding’s) patter mid-sentence and rose, leaning over to take Lauren's arm and helping her to her feet. "Excuse us, Maryanne, we have an appointment."
Watching them walk rapidly in the direction of Thomas's house, the woman called after them hopefully, "We must have dinner soon!"
Slowing once they turned a corner, Thomas slid his arm around Lauren's waist, steadying her with a squeeze. "What has you so upset, darling? You looked like you might faint for a moment."
"I just..." she wasn't foolish enough to discuss something as incendiary as her spouse killing people out in the open, so Lauren shook her head and forced a smile. "Nothing important." Her fury from before was gone, and now the full enormity of what she'd married into what truly sinking in. How did Arabella stand it? How was she still sane? "Can we run back, now?"
Eyeing her speculatively, Thomas finally gave a nod, taking off in a smooth run to match hers.
Back at the house, Tom casually began stripping off his sweaty clothes in front of her, just the way he had that first morning. It was when he smiled devilishly and purred, "Come share a shower, little girl," that Lauren made some garbled excuse and not-quite scampered from the room. She was in the huge kitchen, pressing a cool cloth against her face when he appeared behind her soundlessly, making the poor girl jump and almost shriek.
"Why do youdothat?" Lauren gasped, dropping the wet washcloth and having to bend down to pick it up. She froze when her beautifully suited husband stepped right behind her, hands going to her hips to "support" her as the girl picked up the fabric. Lauren could feel his hardening cock press against her ass as she stood up, and mumbled, "I can pick up something off the floor without help, thank you." She tried to step away, but Thomas's big hands tightened against her waist as he pulled her against his chest.
"I want to know why you turned sheet-white when meeting the officious Maryanne Harding." His voice was colder. Crisp. There was none of the subtle humor or playfulness from the morning.
"How many people have you killed?"
The horrifying question burst out of Lauren's mouth before she could even think and she gasped in horror, slapping her hand against her mouth. Thomas abruptly yanked her around to meet his eyes, blazing and his mouth in a flat line.
"What are you talking about?" If she'd thought his tone was cold before, it was polar now, and terror rose up and nearly choked her. She was going to die. Her husband was going to kill her, right in his gourmet kitchen.
