Jenica is standing there casually, hip popped out, arms crossed over her chest, a smile on her naked face. I’m surprised she is willing to go without makeup in front of me. Not that I’m hiding much from her right now either.
“Nothing,” she says as her eyes run over the exposed parts of my anatomy, which right now is most of it. “Just wondering why you never came home last night.”
“What did I tell you about keeping tabs?” I growl as I wrap the towel around my waist. “It’s none of your business where I am.”
“And what did I tell you about making me look bad?”
I shake my head with a chuckle as I pass her. “Image has always been everything to you,” I mutter.
“Image is important in our world. In our position. I’d think you would know that, considering your status. We can’t hold Tristan off forever.”
She bites her lips the moment she says the words.
I slowly turn to look at her. “So you do know where your cousin is hiding.”
“No. But I know he won’t stay hiding forever. Especially if we give him more incentive. And you traipsing around with a pregnant woman isn’t going to sit well with him.”
“I don’t think he cares about you as much as you like to think,” I call back from the walk-in closet as I rummage for work clothes. “Blood or not.”
“You think I don’t know that?” she snaps, suddenly appearing in the doorway. So much for privacy. “The only blood Tristan cares about is bloodshed. But this isn’t about him. It’s about you not respecting me.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Here we go.
“I put a ring on your finger. I play the part in public. I give you free fucking rein to my house,” I list.
“And meanwhile, your baby mama has free rein of your other house. Not to mention the rest of your life. The least you could do is pretend you actually care about me.”
I finish dressing and stand in front of her. “Our marriage is contractual. Neither of us actually wanted this.”
Jenica swallows hard. “So I’m not wanted at all. Got it.”
Fucking hell. I don’t have time for this. “I have to go to work,” I say, making my way out.
But as I open the door, she calls out from the end of the foyer.
“Don’t forget we have that dinner to go to tonight.”
I stop without turning around. “What dinner?”
“The charity event?” she asks, her tone soaked in sass.
“Right,” I answer.
Fuck.
It’s bad enough that I have to play house with her. She’s the most difficult roommate a man could ask for. Not to mention a cockblock, although I have found my way around that so far.
Still, I don’t want to be stupid. I know what the stakes are, hence the tightrope I am walking. I get that Jenica doesn’t like the way this would all look if it got out that Amara is here and she is pregnant with my child. But what I don’t get is the snappy attitude. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my wife had feelings for me. Which is ludicrous.
When I get to work, everything is on fire. The secretary—Janine? I don’t know, she’s new too—is rushing around trying to do things that aren’t her job.
“Where’s my coffee?” I bark out as I walk in my office.
“I ordered it, but it hasn’t arrived yet, sir,” she answers.
“Ordered it?”
“I’m also working on your schedule, Mr. Rozanov. But I have a few questions?—”
