by Cynthia Dane
“I see.”
“I don’t want to control your life. Well, not more than I already have.” At least he could admit that too. “I don’t want a limp sack of bones and addled brains. I want a woman I consider my equal. You’re more than capable, even if you don’t believe it.”
“How can I believe it? I’ve seen some of the women in your circles.” Just as educated and experienced as him. Beautiful, too.
“I’m not interested in any of them. I never have been, other than superficially.”
“So you admit you’ve been with some of them.”
“Of course I have been. Who do you think was my initial dating pool? Let alone the one approved by my father?” Alice’s face must have been so disgusted, for Monroe quickly changed subjects. “I didn’t click with any of them. They didn’t have what I needed, besides sex. That gets old quick. Once I was bored with someone, I moved on.”
“So I figured. Sounds like you had a lot of one-night stands.”
“I would say most of my so-called dating history was one-night stands.”
Was. Just the way he spoke sometimes gave Alice chills. There hadn’t been a day yet where Monroe was anything but committed to her and this marriage they found themselves in.
“Anyway, tell me what you want from me. As your husband.” In case Alice had forgotten what his personality was like, he said, “If it’s someone who is devilishly handsome, good in bed, filthy rich, and fit to spoil you like his reigning empress, then don’t worry. Those are all passive abilities of mine. I don’t even have to think about them.”
She played with one of the glass buttons on his shirt. Do you know how much I want to start making love to you, Damon? Probably. He had a sixth sense for that shit. “You’re funny.”
“Hmph. No one’s ever called me funny before.”
“Because they don’t know you like I do. They haven’t seen this playful side of you.”
“Ah, playful. There’s another word I’ve never been called before.”
“To be fair, I never would have guessed you could be like this when we first met. You were all smoldering demands.”
“Gets me my way, time and again.”
Alice left a tiny kiss on his chest. “You know what I want?” she whispered. “I want a husband who will always protect and take care of me, and I want to make him feel appreciated in return.”
His grin was a better aphrodisiac than most of his words. “I think we’re already well on the road there.”
Alice grinned back at him. “I want you to keep teaching me new things. I want to explore everything there is to explore with you.”
“There are a few things I’ve been thinking about.”
“Remember when you made me use those Ben-Wa Balls for a day? That was hot.”
“Hmm. When I made you?”
“I liked it because it was something you wanted, and I was happy to oblige. You think I didn’t get something out of it too?”
“I’ll say. You never come too early, now do you?”
“Only when you tell me to.”
“Fuck, Alice,” Monroe muttered, hands touching every exposed part of her. “That’s what I need right now. I need to fuck you.”
Her body readily responded with tingles and a burning desire to grind against him. “Maybe I need to be fucked, too.”
“Ever since you walked out here wearing this robe, I’ve thought of nothing but making you come.”
“On your tongue or cock?”
“Both. So many times.”
Her leg looped over his. His fingers teased her thighs before diving for her wet slit.
“Your tits are absolutely bigger. I don’t care what you say. Married life has been good to you so far.”
“Why don’t you come over here and check them out, then?”
“I thought we were talking about doilies or some shit.”
“Doilies! Who are you? My grandmother?”
“God, I hope not. Unless your grandmother has a swollen cock and is into…”
“Stop!” Alice slapped both hands on his chest, which only made him topple her farther into the bed. “For the love of mercy! Stop!” Her grandmother was a respectable working class Irishwoman. “Shut up and fuck me.”
He was on her, holding her hands above her head and driving his weight against her abdomen. Oh my… Alice wasn’t laughing anymore.
“You’ve lost your manners, Ms. Culver.”
Yeah, this is what Alice wanted late at night. A man with a strong will and a stronger drive to give her the hottest marital sex possible.
“Sorry, sir,” she gasped. “I meant… please fuck me.”
His finger tugged on her collar. That was the last thing Alice felt as a woman of sound mind and body. That night, anyway.
Chapter 9
Robert Grove had barely signed the papers faxed over to him in Munich when Ms. Sarah Clayborn burst through Monroe’s office door.
“Sir,” she announced, breathless. “It’s…”
“Damon!”
“Shit,” Monroe hissed. Alice froze beside him, her light summer jacket strangling her and turning her body into a pool of sweat. “All right.” He nodded to his wife, the both of them quickly straightening themselves out as if the President were about to walk through the door. “Let’s do this, my love.”
Alice was dead. Her heart had stopped. Blood was drained from her face. By the time Russell Monroe marched through the door, fresh from his flight from DC, Alice could be convinced that she was a ghost.
“Oh, wonderful,” Russell spat, taking in the sight of husband and wife sitting together at Monroe’s desk. “You brought the little woman to work today.”
Monroe did not get up to greet his father. In fact, those amber hues were so twisted in torrential winds that Alice almost feared her husband suffering from spontaneous combustion. “This is my wife, Father.” Monroe crossed his arms on his desk. “She works here.”
“I don’t recall approving that.”
“I approved it.”
“What gives you the right!”
Silence stilled the room. Russell stood a few feet away, his Brioni suit mussed and lilac vest wrinkled. Has he lost weight? Meanwhile, Alice was fretting over a two-pound water weight gain. She needed to start hitting the gym again. Not the time to think about that!
“My right comes from owning a third of this company.” Monroe was quick to cover the work they had been doing before Russell arrived. “If I want to bring my wife in as my partner, I damn well will. You don’t work out of this office anyway.”
If Alice pulled her pocketknife out of her purse, she would probably have been able to slice the tension connecting father and son. Just snap it right in half… and then take it on herself. Like she needed more tension directed at her right now.
Both Russell and Damon shared a heated look that suggested some struggle that Alice had yet to fathom. Was this what it felt like to watch a young male lion take on the current leader of the pride? Sometimes that’s what it felt like Alice was doing with her husband. To actually see the patriarch here, though? To know that he hated her existence enough to try to have her killed?
Fuck.
Don’t show him you’re scared. Alice sat up straight, fidgeting hands shoved into her lap.
“So what are you here for, Father? Thought you were taking up residence in DC while you get over the reality that I’m married.”
“Residence? You’re dumber than I ever thought, son. I haven’t moved anywhere. I went on leave.” He sneered. “Imagine my shock, though, when I got a call from my old friend Nabokov mentioning that you bought up all his shares in the company.” That sneer now hit Alice. “Or should I say your wife bought them.”
“Yes.” Monroe was much too relaxed for what was going on. He leaned back in his chair with a humored smile on his face. “My wife should have some shares in the company. I’m not about to give up any of mine, though. We heard that Petrov & Nabokov were struggling in the financial sense
, so they seemed like a good place to start. They’ll be more than welcome to buy back some shares at a later date when they’re more stable.”
During his son’s speech, Russell did not once look away from his daughter-in-law. He doesn’t think of me like that, though. He thinks I’m some Succubus damning his son.
“By the way, the baby’s doing great,” Monroe continued. Alice swallowed so hard she almost choked on her spit. “Alice has another doctor’s appointment soon. With any luck, we’ll be able to get some photos to share with Grandpa.”
Alice assumed that her husband was playing into Russell’s fantasies of grandchildren, regardless of who begat them. Anything to calm him down, right? Indeed, Russell’s countenance softened, although no one would call it happy. “If I may, son.” He pointed to Alice. “I’d like to speak with her. Alone.”
Monroe frowned. “I don’t think so. Anything you have to say to her you can say to me.”
“When you’re patriarch one day, you’ll understand why you need to speak to the women in your family like this. God forbid you have an insolent son who can’t keep his cock in his pants and knocks up the first woman he has feelings for.”
Alice looked at her husband. Is he going to let his father talk to me like that?
Apparently. “You should go, Alice. Take your bodyguard with you.”
“Please,” Russell spat. “What do you think I’m going to do to her? Tickle her to death?”
Perhaps. Alice wouldn’t discount anything.
Warily she stood up and followed Russell out of the office, her heart exploding in both fear and anxiety. Dee rose from her chair out in the main office, nodding to Alice as she shadowed woman and older gentleman to a conference room. This is the same one he last lectured me in. Back then he had offered her money to get the fuck away from his son. Now he sat in there with her – alone. Both bodyguards stood outside the door. Even with the blinds open on one of the windows looking out into the office, Alice still didn’t feel safe. She hoped Russell couldn’t sense her jittery nerves.
“Christ,” he muttered, lighting a cigarette. Heavy smoke blasted in Alice’s direction. She coughed. “Look at you. Some skinny bitch my son probably dragged off the street. Where did he meet you again? That disgusting club of his?” He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. “Should have figured. That boy thinks with his cock more than his head. Do you know how many of his messes I’ve cleaned up over the years?” He scoffed before Alice could answer. “Of course you don’t. He’s known you as long as he’s known his most recent bowel movement.”
If that was his clever way of calling her shit, well… it almost worked.
“You and I find ourselves in a dirty quagmire, my dear.” Russell took another drag of his cigarette. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want you touching our money, let alone our office chairs. I sure as hell don’t want your genetics mucking up our carefully crafted pool. My wife may have been crazy, but she at least had some beautiful genes. You… well, I’ve seen pictures of your family. You’re pretty, but that’s it. And an anomaly. Do I really need your brother’s disease getting into my family?”
Alice’s mouth dropped open.
“I’d rather my son marry an Oriental princess than someone like you.”
How the hell was she supposed to respond to that? If Alice were a stronger woman, someone better prepared for this kind of bullshit from the time she could remember, then perhaps she would have a few choice zingers for her father-in-law. As it was, nobody warned her that one day she would be married into a family that hated her – and all it took was the patriarch deciding she wasn’t good enough for the heir. I doubt the idea of me being pregnant is sitting well either.
“So do me a favor. If you really are pregnant, I’ll cut you one of two deals. You can either leave my son now – and I will ensure you and your illegitimate bastard are well taken care of for your cooperation – or you could have this child and leave. By leave, I mean leave my grandchild behind. Either way, you need to leave, with or without this child.”
Even if Alice weren’t lying about being as pregnant as they claimed her to be, the idea of either leaving Monroe to have his baby in secret or leaving her baby behind with this crazy family was absolutely revolting.
“You can’t get rid of me like you got rid of your own wife.” Alice slapped her hand over her mouth. Shit! Had she really said that out loud?
Russell’s smile was nothing like his son’s. His smile was cunning, conniving, and all-around crafty. Was Alice playing right into his hand?
“You’ve proven that, Ms. Culver. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”
She gulped. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise, Ms. Culver. Now get out of my sight.”
She didn’t stay around to hear more of his insults. What was the point? He hated her. That much had been made clear… and nobody was in the mood to defend poor Alice Monroe. Well, except for maybe Dee, who instantly followed her charge across the office… and veered alongside Alice to the ladies’ room instead of returning to Monroe in his office. I can’t look at him right now. Alice needed distance to clear her mind.
If it could be cleared!
She burst into the ladies’ room without any regard for anyone else in there. Luckily, the stalls were empty and the sinks abandoned. Dee entered, closing the door behind her while still giving Alice plenty of space.
“Need help, ma’am?”
Alice clung to the nearest sink. Her chest tightened. Her eyes blurred. Fuck. Another panic attack. Could anyone blame her? Another threat was made on her life!
“What did that asshole do, Alice?”
She lifted her head, one hand on her heart. “Dee,” she began, unable to look at her. “Unless I’m with my husband, I need you to stick by me. Do you understand? You’re the only person I trust.” Hadn’t she climbed through fiery debris to get to Alice and drag her to safety? I have a hard time believing she’s in cahoots with my father-in-law. Nobody else could be trusted. Alice didn’t even trust Alisha and Ms. Sarah Clayborn right now. She would say she trusted her husband, but Monroe was hilariously out of touch with what was going on in his own family sometimes.
“Of course, ma’am. To tell you the truth, I’m not a fan of that guy. He gives me the creeps. Then again, most old guys do.”
“Your creeps are well-founded. That man would have me completely disappear from the Earth if he could make it happen.”
“I see. Does Mr. Monroe know about that?”
Alice turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water against her face. She didn’t need half her makeup anyway. “He knows. All the good it does us.” Please, Damon, I hope your plan works. If it doesn’t, we are so fucked. Not just her. Him too!
For better or worse, right?
Dee stuck with her until she was ready to find her husband. Monroe was alone in his office, thumping a pen against a desk, his agitation sultry enough to momentarily distract Alice from the issues at hand. He would be handsome enough to make me forget that his father threatened me again. At least he hadn’t outright threatened the unborn child he had been fooled into thinking she had.
“Alice.” He pushed away from his desk. Dee stood in the doorway. Bodyguard and husband exchanged looks. “What happened? Are you all right?”
She slipped into his embrace with a sigh. “I love you. Do you love me?”
He held her close, but never close enough. He could never hold her as close as she needed to be to him. “There’s not a moment of my day that I don’t think about how much I love you.” Monroe’s hand clenched a chunk of her hair. “I wish my father could see it.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” No sense worrying her husband about things he could already guess. “Are we busy tonight?”
“I can clear our schedules. Why?”
She rubbed her cheek against his chest. This cologne isn’t just sexy. It’s my safe haven. If Alice stayed in his arms forever, she would be safe, right? Nobody coul
d hurt her, right? Just her, just him, just the whole world as their oyster, waiting to be explored and exploited.
“Let’s do something fun, for us.”
Monroe kissed her. “Anything you want. I’ve been wanting to take you for a spin in the BMW anyway.”
***
In what was either the most romantic or the stupidest gesture yet, Monroe sent the bodyguards home after work and took Alice for a night out on the town – her style.
“Told you this was a superb car.” Monroe started the BMW. It purred like a kitten curling up in a fleece blanket on a cold winter’s day. Alice was delighted by the bright lights and apps flashing in the dashboard. How many gauges does one car need? Do I care? She buckled up her seatbelt and grinned at her husband. “You and me, my love. Whatever you want to do.”
She already knew what. “I want to go dancing.” Her hand brushed against his leg. “Especially with you dressed like this.”
She had never seen it before. Damon Monroe, wearing a fitted T-shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans. He was always either in his suits or already in his idea of pajamas – or nude. While Alice had seen jeans folded in his drawers, she had never seen him wearing them, and had nearly been convinced that he bought jeans just to keep appearances. T-shirts weren’t totally uncommon when he was in bed, though. The man had some of the softest cotton T-shirts in the world. Alice enjoyed stealing them to sleep in, let alone folding her body against his sleeping form while he wore boxers and a T-shirt to bed.
These damn jeans, though! This shirt! When he came walking out of their bedroom dressed like this, Alice almost pushed him back for a round of the hottest sex she could summon.
Then he put on a thin leather jacket that was cut perfectly to his torso. Knowing what he looked like beneath his clothes made Alice fan her poor self.
Now they were in a brand new BMW, pulling out of the parking garage of their high-rise penthouse and getting ready for a night that belonged to the two of them.
“Me and Candice, we used to go to dance clubs when we were stressed out.” That’s what she told her husband when he asked her for the fifth time what she wanted to do that night. She didn’t care what club they went to – except for The Dark Hour, since that would’ve been awkward – as long as it had throbbing dance beats and the chance to down her sorrows in a blur of alcoholic intoxication.