The song ends, and he steps back before kissing the back of my hand. “I have a quick meeting with the governor in myoffice. Don’t go far. It’s almost midnight.” He disappears into the crowd of fawning sycophants. My shoulders drop. I’m grateful for a reprieve, even a short one.
A server pauses to offer a glass of champagne. I’ve had one already, but as I will be expected to toast the new year, I take another before weaving between the rich and famous. I spot a well-known actress and a global superstar musician, and do my best to avoid my parents, now known as Jane and Tom.
I edge around the room, trying to disappear, but there’s no need. I’m only interesting if I’m on Gideon’s arm. I pause behind a pillar near a group of women.
“I bet he’s an animal in bed,” the one with her back to me says. Who? Do they even know what that means? I do. It’s not the fun time they seem to think.
“So sad he married that nobody bitch, such a waste,” another says with a sigh. “I could have ridden Gideon like the stallion he is.”
My jaw clenches. This is the Gideon effect. Everyone thinks he’s so fucking perfect. They covet his attention.
Another server pauses in front of me. “Canapé, ma’am?”
My stomach gurgles. I select three of the tiny bites and place them on a napkin. I nibble, without tasting the food, as I listen to the clueless females lament their great loss of the city’s most eligible bachelor. I feel like screaming ‘here, have him, take him back. He’s all yours.’ Maybe a stronger woman would make him happier?
Two more songs play before Gideon reappears. His gaze finds me immediately, like a heat-seeking missile. A small frown appears on his forehead as he gets closer. A few people try to speak to him, but he barrels past them. Oh shit. What did I do? I glance at my empty napkin. I had three, right?
He’s upon me before I can work out what put the look ofthunder on his face. He plucks the glass from my hand. I blink. My empty glass.
“You drank another?” he whispers. Before his gaze drops to my napkin. “And ate more?”
I swallow the rising tide of panic clutching at my throat and trying to suffocate me. “I only had three,” I explain. Maybe I could try to play to his ego? “I’m sorry for the champagne. The girls were talking about you in vulgar terms, and I got jealous.” Jealous of their freedom.
He tilts his head, his sharp baby blues icing over as he plucks the empty glass and napkin from my hands and places it on the table beside us. “So you thought you’d defy me to get my attention?”
Dangerous ground, Honor.Blood whooshes in my ears, a storm drowning out the sounds of relaxed conversation and pretty music, focusing all my senses on the tightly coiled monster before me. “I was missing you.”
“You always have my attention, baby, and if it was simply the champagne, I’d let it go. But you already had your food earlier.”
I did? Fuck. When I zoned out? But if I confess to not being one hundred percent present, I’ll be in even worse trouble. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it now. Let’s welcome in the new year with our guests.”
He tangles his hand with mine and tugs me over to the sweeping staircase, we pause halfway up before turning and casting an eye over the party. The band pauses and everyone turns to watch us. A tremor runs down my arm. I clench my fist at my side to prevent it from spreading like a disease.
Gideon starts a speech about being grateful to be chosen as their warrior of justice, defending the innocent and a load of drivel that means shit. They lap it up. Laughing at his well-placed jokes and cheering like they personally contributed to his successes.
The crowd starts to count back from ten. Gideon turns me and drops a screen-worthy kiss onto my mouth that I’m sure will be talked about in the press tomorrow. My mouth opens to let him in. His warm whiskey-tainted tongue tangles with mine.
Cheers ring out around us as he pulls away.
“Happy new year,” I tell him.
“Happy anniversary,” he replies with a smirk. “Now let’s see what we can do about your mishap this evening.”
My mouth goes dry as he guides me up the stairs, away from prying eyes and keen ears. He pushes open the bedroom door and I move toward the bed. He shakes his head and continues through the dressing room. “Not here.”
Fuck.
CHAPTER 3
HONOR
Some break, some endure.
What every discerning millionaire needs is a secret place hidden at the back of their dressing area for punishing their wayward wives. Gideon presses the code into the silver keypad and the back panel between his suit jackets and my day dresses swishes open. This is where souls go to die. It’s Hell on Earth, designed specifically with me in mind. It’s been eleven days since my last infraction, when my tone was inappropriate.
The door slides closed behind me, encasing us in darkness until he snaps on the single light bulb dangling from the center of the room over the cast iron single bed frame. The area is no bigger than twelve feet square. There’s a storage cupboard on the back wall, and a sink next to it. The cold concrete floor and matching walls are a contrast to the rest of our home. It’s meant to strip me back. No comfort, no warmth, and it succeeds.
