Reading Online Novel

The Marriage He Must Keep(30)



She released a husk of a disbelieving laugh, sitting back and stealing her hand away from his. “I suppose asking you to quit being so arrogant is also unreasonable?”

“And unrealistic,” he said without a hint of sheepishness or apology. “I don’t compromise, Octavia. That’s not who I am, but I’m trying to do it for you,” he added sincerely. “For my wife. To save our marriage. Do you see that?”

She swallowed, weirdly affected by that statement. A sip of wine was in order, to help her digest everything he’d said. Warmth ran down her limbs.

“Believe it or not, I don’t want a spineless wife,” he said. “Yes-men annoy me. That’s why I’m furious to learn that all this time, when I thought you were content, you’ve been miserable and keeping it from me.”

She bit the insides of her lips before she said simply, “It never mattered to anyone how I felt. My parents didn’t care and boarding school—” She shrugged that off. No welcome for whiners there.

Their feuilletés arrived, distracting them for a moment as they broke the delicate puff pastries. They were tiny, only two bites, and shaped like fish. Creamy salmon and asparagus filling oozed out.

“Tell me more about your parents. You said a few days ago that your father didn’t have your best interests at heart, but he was very shrewd in our meetings. He wanted a good marriage for you.”

She dipped her chin, reproving him for thinking her father’s demands had had anything to do with her. “If you are a caretaker of your family fortune, he is a hoarder, one who is frustrated that he can’t take his money with him. He wanted a successor and got a vessel. I told you about my mother’s miscarriages. I didn’t fully appreciate how horrible that must have been for her until now, when I have my own baby, but I’ve always felt...” She shrugged. “Obligated to do what they wanted, otherwise why did she go through all that to have me? But given her delicate pregnancies and bouts of depression when she lost them... I assume she went through spells of refusing to sleep with my father and so he cheated. It didn’t make for a very happy home to grow up in.”

Her fork went under the last minuscule bite of the delicious starter. As she swallowed, she looked up to see him watching her. Was that compassion in his gaze? Concern?

“Please don’t pity me. It is what it is.”

He drew a breath and stood, coming to her side where he held out a hand.

“What—?” She looked up, up, up to muscled shoulders straining the pin-striped fabric of his shirt. His stance was one of invitation, not intimidation, but her heart still skipped in alarm. She caught the faint scent of the aftershave he’d applied this morning. Its spicy fragrance was overlain with the more simple, masculine fragrance of him, heady and drugging.

“The music has started. Let’s dance.”

“I— Here?” She glanced around at the room containing a handful of empty tables, sparks of light glancing off the glass of the framed sketches. “There’s not a lot of room.”

“We don’t need a lot of room. I’m going to hold you very close.”

Little shivers went through her as he picked up her hand and she found herself standing, letting him draw her to him. He’d done this before, on their honeymoon, when she’d been so apprehensive about their wedding night she had bordered on telling him to “just get it over with.”

He had done this, though. Held her. Soothed her. His touch was light, yet confident. He was warm and strong, his arms a place of safety while the brush of their bodies revealed he was aroused.

She wanted to weep with relief that she could still affect him, but anxiety struck at the same time. “You know I can’t—”

“I know. I still want to hold you,” he murmured, lips brushing her brow. “I wish you’d told me about your parents before. You want a better life for Lorenzo, don’t you? We can have one, Octavia. I promise you we can. Give our marriage another try,” he coaxed, more gentle than dictatorial, but it was a command, not a request. “We’ll both give it a proper try.”

Oh, he was smooth, lulling her with the lazy circles of his palm on her back.

“I suppose I should take heart from the fact you’re saying that even though we can’t sleep together,” she muttered, turning her curled fingers on his chest to look at her fingernails.

“We’ll sleep together, cara.” He stopped swaying and tilted up her chin. His strong thumb caressed her skin while he lightly cupped her throat in his wide hand.

She instinctively turned her hand on his chest to press, staying him from making an advance.