With his love, diamonds, designer clothes, and trips around the world, he put me right where I wanted to be. Completely under his spell. I had fallen fast and hard for him.
During the last few months, I did my best to bury my past and the guilt of what I’d done in the deepest recesses of my mind. I forced myself to forget, to live as if it had all happened to someone else. My past showed up in my nightmares, but during the day I succeeded at pretending I was someone else, someone unblemished. I had become an expert at fooling my mind.
“You deserve to be happy,” he said, kissing my earlobe. “I cannot wait for you to be mine.”
I lowered my hand and turned to kiss him. “I’m already yours.”
He rolled me on top of him and held me tight. “I want you to be mine on paper as well. I’ll never let you go.” He slid the palm of his hand down my back until it cupped my naked butt, squeezing it. “Never.”
“I hope not.” I giggled. “I’ll never leave you.”
As Mrs. Haley Macknight, I’d leave behind the bad memories, every one of them. The one thing that mattered was a future with my rich and handsome husband, who would do anything for me, who loved me enough to put his own life on the line. In Jude Macknight’s arms, forever was the only option that made sense.
“Promise?” he asked.
“I give you my promise,” I said. I meant every word.
“Good. I’ll hold you to your word.” With that, he pushed my legs apart and entered me.
Jude didn’t want a long engagement, and neither did I. We got married as soon as we returned to the U.S., in a small ceremony attended only by us, Nolan, and another one of Jude’s trusted employees. The honeymoon was at a romantic Cabo San Lucas resort that was carved into a cliff. He went all out to make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
With Jude by my side, I could certainly learn to be happy. I was sure I’d never regret my decision to be his wife.
CHAPTER TEN
I gazed into my husband’s eyes over a candle-light dinner in our dining room. It was my thirtieth birthday and he had hired a celebrity chef and two waiters to come and serve us in the privacy of our home.
“You were right,” I said. “That food was amazing.”
He took a swig of water. “That’s why I keep telling you to trust me. I enjoy my job of choosing our meals.”
He did. Every time we ate out together, he ordered for us. I never complained because he always chose food that made my taste buds swoon.
“I rest my case.” I wiped my mouth with a napkin.
Seeing that we were done eating, one of the waiters, a handsome Latino man in his late twenties, came over to our table and started to clear it.
I lifted my plate to hand it to him, but caught a glimpse of Jude shaking his head discreetly. He hated it when I tried to help anyone he paid to provide a service.
He was also against me working. He didn’t understand why I would like to slave away when he was earning more money than we could ever spend. I’d fought him at first until he warned me not to bring it up again.
To occupy myself, I turned to painting, an old hobby of mine. As a child I’d dreamed of becoming an artist one day, to open up my own gallery and be surrounded by paintings of beautiful people and places.
A few weeks after Jude and I got married, I had brought up the idea of me signing up for some art classes. But he told me to drop the idea, and that people studied because they wanted to work. And I didn’t have to work.
I’d hoped painting at home would fill the void inside my heart, but it only reminded me of everything I had lost. So, I gave it up again and concentrated on my job as Mrs. Haley Macknight.
I sighed and attempted to lower the plate again, but I ended up knocking over my glass of water. The glass hit the table with a low thud and a stream of water rushed out of it, down the table, and splashed onto my lap before I could move, disappearing into the chiffon material of my skirt, cooling my thighs.
The waiter quickly reached for my napkin to help wipe the water away, but I placed my hand on his, and looked up at him. “Don’t worry about it, I made the mess, I’ll clear it up.”
While I dabbed the moisture from the table cloth and the skirt of my dress, the man picked up the plates and disappeared out of the dining room.
As soon as he left, I sensed the atmosphere shift, sensed Jude’s fury without even looking at his face. When I finally had the guts to meet his gaze, his eyes were steely, his jaw set.
He didn’t say a word until the chef and waiters had left and we were all alone.
I rose from my chair. He did the same and followed me out of the dining room. He still didn’t say a word when we walked into our bedroom.