Veiled Obsession(12)
I leaned my back against the misted glass door, a hanging fluffy robe separating me from the cool door. I slumped forward, my hands clutching my knees. I drew in three deep breaths. Though the air filled my lungs, it didn’t seem enough. I grappled for more and more and more until my heart stopped racing.
An hour later Jude was dressed in one of his black suits, tapping away at his laptop in the adjoining office, and Lucille, a celebrity makeup artist and hairstylist Jude had insisted we fly in from New York for the special day, fought with my long stubborn curls, finally wrapping and pinning a lush braid firmly against my scalp.
“There,” she finally said in her British accent. “You look perfect.”
I smiled but my stomach roiled. I longed to be excited about little things again. Like having my hair and nails done. But I was slowly forgetting how to be happy. I eyed myself in the mirror, watched my flat, green eyes staring sadly back at me. “Thank you, Lucille. You did great. I love it.”
When Lucille left me alone in the room, I indulged in another breathing session. Tonight was a big night for Jude. The opening of his third luxury resort in a year. The Haley Luxury Resort and Casino was named after me, yet another token of his unending love. Yet another chain that bound me to him. The resort was pure luxury with fifty floors, two thousand rooms, a ninety-thousand-square-foot casino, a spectacular waterfall, and a shopping mall.
Even if my brown eyes were empty, I widened my smile, I pretended I was happy.
After all, what did I have to be miserable about? I had it all.
“My husband will arrange for the jet to fly you back to New York.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Music and champagne flowed in the circular marble hall. People shook Jude’s hand, congratulating him on yet another success. As I allowed Jude to parade me around the room, I didn’t miss the envy on the faces of the women in the room. For my freedom, I would have traded places with them at the drop of a hat.
I did my part. I smiled brightly and clapped along with everyone else after his speech that included him thanking his loving, supportive wife. I nodded as his dark eyes met mine.
“I love you,” he mouthed and inside I recoiled from his words.
After the caviar, champagne—sparkling water for me—and a five-course meal, my stomach twisted with anxiety.
Five minutes to midnight. The party would be over soon and we would return to our suite. He would want to celebrate there too, to have sex. Over the six months, making love to him had become such a chore. Nothing but sex. And he was insatiable. Even more so now that he wanted a baby.
Maybe it was a small price to pay for everything he had done for me. Without him, I would be nothing.
After the last guests filtered out, I let him take me back to our suite, which was decorated with flickering candles and fresh flowers.
When he made love to me I closed my eyes and prayed for him to finish soon.
Then guilt wrecked me as I fell asleep in his arms. What was wrong with me? How could I not be happy with a handsome and rich man who worshipped the ground I walked on? Why wasn’t I able to shake the feeling that something was missing?
In the morning, on our flight back home, I wept in the toilet for thirty minutes, then reapplied my makeup, squirted drops into my eyes and continued to pretend.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I’d never felt quite at home in Jude’s house, which still looked like a bachelor pad. No feminine touch whatsoever. Not even a compromise. Given half the chance, I’d have gotten rid of the taupe and gray colors and replaced them with splashes of softer shades. I’d have replaced the hard-edged furniture with pieces that had curves to them. I’d have swept out the chill and brought in warmth, life. But Jude wouldn’t have it. I was his wife, his partner, but he went crazy when I tried to replace even a simple vase.
Such a shame. If he would let me do something around the house, it would keep me from being bored all day while waiting for him to come home, from feeling empty. There was only so much TV I could watch and shopping lost its appeal when I could afford to buy anything I could ever wish for. Since returning from Las Vegas, I craved even more for what I couldn’t have. I wanted my freedom, and a job would have been a piece of that freedom.
In spite of the heat outside, I felt a distinct chill as I entered the house after a day of shopping. The discomfort I felt upon entering the house went beyond just the temperature. There was some kind of friction, an invisible warning that something was not right. My skin prickled the way it did when in the vicinity of danger.
“I take it, Mrs. Macknight?” Lin gestured toward my bags.
For a moment I met her gaze and wondered what she meant.
She was a diminutive Chinese woman in her fifties whose hunched back made her look even shorter than she already was. She had been Jude’s housekeeper for over ten years and her loyalty was to him. When I moved something in the house that shouldn’t be moved, she promptly returned it to its usual place. She always cooked his favorite dishes and never asked what I’d like. He was the one paying her after all. But she was always polite and friendly enough to me.