Danielle was sitting at the dining table when I finally made it downstairs. She’d changed into a mint-green long-sleeved dress that ended a couple of inches above her knees. Buttons ran all the way down the front, and a large bow was tied at the waist.
My fingers tingled with the desire to undo those buttons, to pull her into my arms and bury my face in her hair, to run my hands over every inch of her body.
I tore my gaze away from her dress and forced my attention back to her face, only to find her eyeing me up and down. I’d thrown on a pair of jeans and a plain whiteT-shirt after my shower, but I could feel her stare through the fabric.
“Your assistant dropped off food,” Danielle said, gesturing at the unopened take-out bag on the table.
“You didn’t open it.”
“It wasn’t mine.”
“I got enough for both of us.” I retrieved a couple of forks and spoons from the kitchen and started pulling containers out of the paper bag. “What do you want?”
“I’m not eating your food.”
“What’s mine is yours, Sunday School.”
“That’s not what we agreed upon. This marriage is fake, and I don’t want anything of yours.”
My jaw clenched. “Danielle. Eat something.”
Her eyes narrowed and she folded her arms across her chest, which only served to draw my attention to her perfect breasts. Fuck, this woman was going to be the death of me.
I assumed she was going to keep arguing, but after a minute she just sighed, grabbed a container of rice, and started eating in silence.
That silence continued as we cleared the table and did the couple of dishes left. As soon as everything was cleaned up, she disappeared down the hall that led to my spare bedrooms without a backward glance, leaving an oddly hollow feeling in her wake.
I was used to living alone, to the emptiness of my apartment. Ilikedit. But there was something about knowing she was here that made the silence feel loud. Almost oppressive.
TWELVE
Danielle
In the daysthat followed our wedding, Hayden and I barely said a word to each other. I kept to my room, and he was gone most of the time. We shared a kitchen, but you’d never know it since our schedules meant we were never in it at the same time.
The penthouse was huge—like I could easily fit three of my apartment inside it—but I was still surprised we could avoid each other so completely. Most of the time it felt like I still lived alone.
It wasn’t what I’d thought married life would feel like, but at least it was easy to keep my secrets this way. Hayden didn’t have any reason to suspect I wasn’t entirely human, and he didn’t notice when I left to meet with my family for combat training.
I slid my rings off my finger and tucked them into the small purse next to my phone and credit card as the car pulled to a stop outside Youngblood.
Caleb eyed me through the rearview mirror, but he didn’t comment. Hopefully he wouldn’t say anything to Hayden. I knew my “husband” would be pissed if he found out, but I wasn’t ready to have the fake-marriage conversation with Sam yet.
“What time should I come back?” Caleb asked.
“Around four?” It came out sounding more like a question than an answer.
“I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Caleb.” I was still having a hard time getting used to having Caleb drive me around rather than taking the train or walking. I also found it weird that Hayden had assigned him as my driver. He’d been Hayden’s main driver for as long as I’d known them.
I filed the thought away in the box of questions I’d maybe ask Hayden if we ever started talking again.
The training room on the third floor of the building was empty when I walked in. I hadn’t been here since Micah had all but kicked me out about a month ago. But Sam had specifically asked me to meet him, Nate, and the kids today. And that wasn’t the kind of invite I passed on. The fact that I was getting out of the penthouse was a bonus too.
The door opened, and Sam waked in with his son at his side. Dion was five now. He looked nothing like Sam with his light eyes and blond hair that came to his chin, but his expression was so Sam it was hard to believe they weren’t blood related.
Sam’s gaze skated over my dress as if he was inspecting it for imperfections before he rolled his eyes.
