“Ash, what is wrong with you?—”
“Wrong with me?” He stalks toward me, and I back up until I hit the window. Ash plants his hands on either side of my head, caging me in. "You're my wife.”
From somewhere deep, I lift my chin, holding his gaze. “On paper only.”
Something flashes in his eyes, but I can’t tell what it is. His gaze drops to my lips, and for a moment I think he's going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me. The realization unsettles me. Despite everything, despite his coldness and distance, I want him. Not just physically, but all of him.
But I’ve been in this position before. Once he touches me, he rejects me. I’ve done everything I can to appease his wishes. It’s time he respected mine.
I give him a hard shove. “Get away from me.” I move quickly past him and out the door, hurrying downstairs, hoping I can catch Jim before he leaves. I’m sure he won’t be back, but I can at least thank him for the lesson and apologize for my brute of a husband.
“Hannah!”
“Leave me alone, Ash. I hate you.”
12
ASH
What did they think would happen when I walked in on a man trailing his fingers down Hannah's neck? He’s lucky I didn’t rip his arms off. How dare he think he can touch what’s mine.
Mine?
The thought jolts through me even as I stalk out of the room, hunting Hannah down. She allowed this disrespect to happen.
I reach the landing as she slams the door and whirls on me. “He’s gone. Why do you have to ruin my life?”
I block her in again. “Ruin? Me? He’s the one touching you. I could kill him for that, you know.”
Her wide green eyes meet mine, and what she sees must scare her as her face drains of color. Good. She should know this isn't acceptable. Except… fuck, I don’t want her to be afraid of me.
"What were you thinking?" I demand, yet step back, wanting her to know I won’t hurt her. At least not physically. It’s clear I can’t stop hurting her emotionally.
"It was just an art lesson."
"An art lesson?" I laugh without humor. "Is that what you call letting another man run his hands all over you?"
"He was showing me how to draw anatomical lines!" Her cheeks flush with anger, and I’m happy to see it over the fear. "Not everyone sees the world through your twisted lens, Ash. Some of us are actually trying to learn and grow and?—”
"And what? Find ways to tempt other men?" The words are out before I can think what they really mean.
Her palm connects with my cheek, the crack reverberating through my skull. I know I deserve it, at least for the comment.
"How dare you." Her voice shakes. "I've done everything you asked. I've given you space. I've tried to be the perfect wife while you treat me like I'm nothing. And now you have the nerve to accuse me of…"
Tears spill down her cheeks, and something inside me breaks. But why? I’m not wrong here. She’s a married woman. No man should be touching her except me.
I rake my fingers through my hair, shame and anger warring inside me. The image of his hands on her skin still burns in my mind, and the anger wins.
"I’m firing him." The words come out harsh, final.
"No, you’re not." Hannah lifts her chin. "Art is the only thing I have that's mine."
My hands grip her shoulders, and the contact sends electricity through my palms. "I won't have another man's hands on what belongs to me."
The possessiveness of my words should shock me, but at this moment, I can’t think of anything but wanting to mark her as mine in ways that would leave no doubt whom she belongs to.
"Why do you even care?" Hannah wrenches away from my grip. "You've made it clear you don't want me. You want someone else. "
