He actually told her the only way he’d stay married to her was if she learned how to be a good wife. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I resisted the temptation to take my frustration out on the tiles. How a man could treat their wife that way was beyond rational thought. And for her to agree . . .
He must have been slowly breaking down her protective barriers until he burrowed so deep under her skin, she had no idea he’d done it.
Goddamn asshole had known exactly what he was doing. He’d scored a beautiful woman. He could have made the decision to give her the world, but he broke her instead. The worst part was, I’d never in my life wanted a woman so badly. Her body, curved in all the right places, breasts the perfect size for my hands, made me dizzy with desire. All the blood ran from my brain to my dick.
I let the water pound down on me, the ice-cold droplets stinging my heated skin as I tried to think of anything but the sexy vixen down the hall. The one who had no clue how appealing she was, or she’d have ditched her husband a long time ago. Damn it! I needed to get my mind away from Dominic, and the idea of Elena and Dominic, or I was going to end up killing him. Uncomfortable as it might be, I was just going to have to make do with a lethal case of blue balls.
Work.
Loans.
Sports.
I ran through a list in my head—anything that would clear out the image of Elena in that dress. And her eyes. She was completely oblivious.
Work.
Loans.
Loans!
Shit.
I had to collect a payment in a few nights. Another asshole who’d borrowed more than he could pay back. What in the hell was I supposed to do with Elena? Under no circumstances would I involve her in any more of my business. I had family connections and I couldn’t wait to get the hell out. I couldn’t have her anywhere near it.
Resolving to keep Elena away from that side of my life, I got out of the shower and I threw on a pair of track pants and a T-shirt, heading downstairs to wait for her to pick a movie. Goose bumps still covered my skin but when I stepped into the den, I wanted to march right back upstairs and add ice to the shower.
So much for clearing my head.
With her back to me, she stared at the shelves of pictures and artwork that lined the walls, her ass encased in a pair of black yoga pants that showed every curved muscle. I clenched my teeth as I surmised that she probably worked out to keep from getting fat, like a good wife would, swallowing against the lump at the back of my throat.
Sensing my presence she turned around, still as shy as she’d been when she knocked on my office door only a few hours earlier, and I watched her tongue dart out to wet her lower lip before she drew it between her teeth and met my gaze. I managed to stifle my groan, thanking the Lord that her shirt was nowhere near as low-cut as her dress had been, but it was still fitted enough to allude to her shape underneath. It would seem Elena didn’t have to do a lot to get me worked up but as long as she stayed seated, keeping that ass from view, I could keep from thinking with my other brain.
“I wasn’t sure how to work anything in here.” She gestured toward the TV.
I laughed, the sound strained as I attempted to get myself under control. “How about I turn it on, while you pick a movie.”
She took a seat on the couch, her back straight, hands folded in her lap. Innocent didn’t fully describe the scene in front of me.
“No, you’re going to pick what we watch tonight.” Walking over to the table, I grabbed the remote and pulled up my Netflix account.
“But . . . but—”
“No excuses, Elena. We’re going to teach you how to make decisions for yourself.”
Her face blanched and for one brief moment I felt bad for pushing her. Then I remembered what it took to break Aunt Veronica out of it. I sat down next to her, my thigh running the length of hers, and showed her how to flick through the choices to find a movie. The slight tremble to her hands told me she was uncomfortable. She flipped through and although I’d expected her pick one of the romantic comedies she passed them all by, and it struck me that even though I would rather gouge my eye out with a spoon than watch one of those films, I would have endured it if she’d made the choice. Then she surprised me. Rush was an older movie; one I was willing to bet she hadn’t seen. She looked up at me through her long russet lashes.
“Is this okay?”
She thinks this is what I want to watch. “Elena, is this a movie you want to watch, or did you pick something you thought I’d enjoy?”
“I’ve wanted to see since it came out, but I can pick something else if you’d prefer?”
“Enough.” I covered her lips with my finger. Probably not the best move on my part, especially when I felt how soft they were. “I told you to pick, which means I’ll watch whatever you chose. Now let’s sit back and enjoy the movie.”