Back tracking to the kitchen, I found Mom, whisk in hand, mixing eggs. “Hey, Mom.”
Unlike many women involved in our lifestyle, Mom knew aspect of my dad’s business. She didn’t want to be kept in the dark, but she also had rules; rules that my father obeyed to the letter. He loved her too much to chance her walking away. Dad’s business was never allowed in the house. Obviously we had discussions, but only ever in his office. None of the men who worked for my father were allowed anywhere near where we lived. Mom wanted has to have as normal a life as possible. Another rule was that neither Miller nor myself were to have anything to do with the business until after we’d finished college. Finally, and most importantly, if either of us were ever investigated by any kind of law enforcement, it was Dad’s job to fix it—even if that meant taking the blame himself. Her sons were never going to jail for the family business, according to my mom.
“Done with Dad already?”
I watched on as she flicked her wrist rapidly, the eggs frothing in the bowl as she closed a cupboard door with a nudge of her hip, her eyes never leaving mine. I paused a moment before answering, “Yeah, but it involves you too.”
“Talk.”
It wasn’t just my dad who was direct.
“Well, it has to do with a client of mine who is abusive to his wife.”
She stopped mixing, her eyes heated, her mouth tight. “Whatever you need it’s yours.”
Funny how different my parents’ immediate reactions were. Then again, I was only giving mom part of the story. She didn’t need all of the details, and I knew for a fact, she wouldn’t want them. “She’s staying with me for the next three months. I want to help her, Mom. I want to show her what an ass—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Ashton Joseph.”
At thirty-two I was still being reprimanded by my mother for using foul language. What the hell? I rolled my eyes, and continued. “Anyway, I was hoping we could have a big dinner here with Aunt Veronica. Maybe they could sit and talk, help Elena see the light?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Do you want to do it next Saturday? Give her time to get down here.”
“That’s perfect, Mom. Thank you.”
She smiled and it lit up her whole face. She might be fifty-seven and I might be her son, but I couldn’t deny that my mom was a beautiful woman—even more so when she smiled. “You’re welcome. Now help me by measuring six cups of flour into the mixer.”
“You know it’ll work better if you sift it.”
She pointed the whisk at me. “My kitchen, my rules. Now pour.”
I did as she said, chuckling to myself as I dumped the flour into the mixing bowl. My dad might run one of the largest money laundering rings in the city, but there was no question who was in charge of the household. I’d even seen Dad cower at a pissed off Mom.
For the next two hours, I helped her bake. It was soothing. When I looked at my watch, the face covered in flour, I realized Elena would be back soon. I wanted to be there when Lewis dropped her off. I also needed to get some paperwork done for the restaurants.
I said goodbye to Mom and left for my office. I checked in with each restaurant manager and collected my paperwork before heading home to wait.
Absorbed in the profit numbers for last month, I almost didn’t hear the soft knock on the door. Knowing how engrossed I got when dealing with the financials, I’d left it open, and when I looked up I almost swallowed my tongue.
I’d known from the moment I saw her that Elena was pretty, but the woman who stood before me was a goddess. Her hair fell in silken waves around her face. Her make up was light, which was great because she didn’t need it. She wore a timid smile that told me she was happy and that, in turn, made me happy. Add to that the fact that every glorious curve of her body was on display in a short green dress, and there was no wonder my dick was hard in seconds, needing to be free of the confines of my jeans.
My mouth opened and shut a few times before I finally managed to say, “Holy shit, Elena. You look fantastic.”
CHAPTER 6
Elena
His wide eyes and gaping mouth were a sight I hadn’t seen directed at me in a long time. Dominic used to look at me that way before we were married, before he realized that I needed work and help being a good wife. Ashton’s eyes were filled with honesty, admiration, and if I wasn’t very much mistaken, lust.
I shook the thought from my head. No way any man, especially one who looked like Ashton, could think I was worthy of a second glance; much less the “I want to eat you up expression” he wore. I watched carefully as he stepped around his desk, moving across the room to stand in front of me. Suddenly I felt like Little Red Riding Hood being stalked by the Big Bad Wolf. My gaze dropped to the floor.
“Look at me, Elena.”
My eyes moved to his and I waited to be reprimanded. I shouldn’t have gone to the spa. I should have offered to make dinner.
Damn it, Elena.
But as ashamed as I felt, I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit to thoroughly enjoying my day. I couldn’t remember the last time someone else cut my hair, much less, added highlights. Dominic thought it was an unnecessary expense. Frivolous, he called it. Then to add a massage, manicure, pedicure, and personal shopper on top of it all? I sighed at the memory, knowing it had been one of the best days of my life.
“Why do you always look at the floor?”
My attention snapped back to Ashton and I replied, “I’m afraid you’re going to yell at me.”
“Yell at you for what?”
“I don’t know, wasting the day when I should have been cleaning or making you lunch and dinner.” My heart rate was thundering, galloping like a whipped horse as I began wringing my hands.
There was nothing for a beat, then Ashton took ahold of my fingers and pulled them apart, holding them firmly in his own. “I told you earlier, I don’t expect you to take care of me. Somehow, someway, I’m going to teach you how wrong that line of thinking is. Now, did you enjoy your day?”
“Yes, thank you.” The urge to look away was almost overpowering but I fought it. Doing what Ashton said was my goal.
“What was your favorite part?”
What if I picked the wrong thing? My hands began to sweat, which succeeded only in reminding me that he was still holding them. There was no chance he wouldn’t notice it. “I really liked the shopping.”
He smiled and let go of one of my hands, lifting the other above my head, causing me to twirl around where I stood. “I can tell. This dress looks fantastic on you.”
Could the desire I’d seen in his eyes have been directed at me? After only a day away from home my world was upended, and I had no idea which way was up. My hands began to shake. I was so far out of my comfort zone, I didn’t know where to begin. He was a man, like Dominic, but their thoughts were polar opposites.
Which of them is right?
As if sensing my increasing nervousness, Ashton changed the subject. “I want to show you around the house, but I just need ten minutes to finish up some paperwork.”
“That’s okay, I can head on up to my room.” I tugged at my hands. He still hadn’t let me go.
“Are you going to hide, or for another reason?”
His tone, coupled with the tilt of his chin and his assessing eyes, made it clear he wouldn’t let me go if he didn’t like my answer, but for once, that didn’t scare me. What the difference was I couldn’t say, but I answered honestly. “I want to put the new clothes away and change before dinner.”
He took a step forward and lifted my hand to his mouth, touching his lips against my skin. “Your new clothes, Elena, and I think that’s an excellent idea. But keep the dress on. You look great in it.”
Heat rushed to my face and I nodded, taking my hand from his as soon as he let me, and scurrying out the door. In the safety of my room, I took deep gulping breaths. No man had ever had an effect like that on my body. Every part of me felt like flames were burnin
g paths down every nerve ending in my body. Then I remembered what brought me here in the first place. Dominic was my husband. I loved him. I’d sworn to love and obey him until death and I’d meant it. So why, for just one moment, did it feel like everything with him was wrong.
A knock against wood interrupted my thoughts, the hinges creaking as the door opened slowly. Ashton stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, his eyes on the bags at the foot of the bed. I hadn’t managed to put anything away. My face flushed.
“Ready for the tour?”
I nodded, not trusting my tongue to work correctly. Being near him sent my heart into overdrive and made me breathless.
“Then let’s go.”
It turned out the house was even bigger than I’d imagined. All the bedrooms were on the second floor and each had its own bath. The first floor had everything from a pool to a game room, a small library to a kitchen bigger than my whole apartment. Thoughts of ways to spend my days rushed through my head before I had a chance to push them aside like I normally would.
“Your home is beautiful.”
Ashton smiled. “Thank you. For the next few months it’s your home as well. Every room in this house is for your use. You don’t need to spend the whole time hiding in your bedroom.” He winked and I felt a flutter deep in my stomach. I might have lied and said I would do that, but that wouldn’t help Dominic. Then again, he had just handed me over.
“I’ll try not to, but unless I’m cooking or cleaning, I really don’t know what to do with myself.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He placed his hand at the small of my back, leading me toward the kitchen and dining room. The touch was intimate and unfamiliar but he left no room for me to question it. “Let’s have dinner.”
The guilt for not contributing to dinner overwhelmed me, yet I kept silent. My stomach clenched, waiting for permission. Ashton had already made it very clear that I didn’t need to cook for him and I didn’t want to risk upsetting him by going over old ground. When we reached the dining room, I saw the table was set and covered with food. Ashton led me to a seat and pulled out the chair for me. Again, I wasn’t used to such a gesture. Dominic usually just sat down and began eating.
“What would you like to drink?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
My response was immediate. Instinctive. He stepped next to my chair and placing his finger under my chin, he lifted my gaze to his. “Starting now, you need to start making your own decisions.”
My eyes slid closed and my voice wavered. “I’m not sure I know how. Can’t you just decide? Dominic always decides for me.”
“That’s part of the problem. I’m going to teach you how to make your own choices.”
His direct way of talking gave me the courage to ask, “Why is it wrong that Dominic helps me make decisions? He’s teaching me how to be a good wife.”
There was a slight paused before Ashton answered, and when he did, I noted a tone to his voice that I recognized all too well. He was unhappy. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that from you. He’s not teaching you, Elena, he’s controlling you—there’s a big difference. As long as he has control, you’ll stay with him, no matter how badly he treats you.”
“He doesn’t treat me badly,” I whispered, doing so because a lot of what Ashton had just said made sense, and that in turn was making me question a lot of things; things that I didn’t have time to process right then.
“Oh really? How many times have you cried because of things he said or did the last time you saw him?”
Stunned into silence, I sat there. Dominic made me cry at least three times a day—most days it was more. I didn’t really enjoy crying or hearing him insult me, but I knew it would continue to happen until I learned. I blinked up at Ashton, staring, unsure how to respond.
“I think you just answered my question. Now I’ll ask again, what would you like to drink?”
I knew Ashton wouldn’t let it go until I made a decision so I said quietly, “Can I have a glass of red wine?” It felt good to decide for myself, especially when he didn’t reprimand me for making the wrong choice.
“That I can do.” He smiled and walked to a side table with glasses and different bottles on top and poured two glasses, bringing one to me before taking his own seat, directly opposite me. We passed the dishes back and forth, filling our plates. It all looked so delicious.
“Everything looks wonderful,” I said, unfolding my napkin across my lap.
“Thank you. Julia made it.”
“Julia?”
He smiled. “My housekeeper. I cook for myself most nights, but every once in a while, if I’m busy, she’ll do it. And tonight I wanted to have time to talk instead of cooking.”
“Talk about what?”
“Anything you want.”
Ashton handed over the tray of chicken. Taking a piece, I then finished filling my plate. The room fell silent and I felt the familiar flush of embarrassment as I fumbled for something to say before admitting, “Dominic and I don’t really talk.”
“Let me guess, he doesn’t want to do anything but eat and then do something else.”
I winced when he said “something else.” My sex life was not something I wanted to talk about. Maybe that wasn’t what he was referring to, but that’s where my mind went. With each passing moment his gaze intensified, his eyes darkening, becoming heated. Under his watchful eye a feeling unfurled in my stomach. It wasn’t unwelcome—quite the opposite—but acknowledging that him looking as me was having a physical effect on me . . .
Shame washed over me. Ashton must have noticed because his face went soft. He opened his mouth to say something but I got in first.
“Usually there was a game on he wanted to see. He always ate quickly so he wouldn’t miss it.”
“Did you watch the games with him?”
“No, I had to clean up dinner, get laundry done, make his lunch.”
“So you were his slave.”
I gasped. “No! He’s my husband, it’s my job to take care of him.”
His brows drew together. “But you worked at the diner, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes. I needed to help pay the bills.”
“Yeah, he was definitely spending his paycheck on the bills—that’s why he borrowed money from me in the first place. Jesus, Elena, this isn’t the 1950s. You have a job outside the home; it isn’t your job to take care of him as well. What he’s doing to you—it’s abuse.”
“Dominic’s never laid a hand on me,” I scoffed.
“He may not beat you, but it doesn’t always require fists to hurt someone.”
Ashton let the comment hang in the air and took a bite of his chicken. We ate in silence, the cold atmosphere creeping through the room a sharp contrast to our earlier light conversation, and all the while I sat and contemplated what he’d said. A voice in the back of my head, one I hadn’t heard in a long time, started screaming at me that Ashton was right. What Dominic had done, and continued to do to me had nothing to do with love. It was twisted and wrong.
The voice had grown quiet over the years. When we were first married, I wanted to please my new husband, so it was easy to push those thoughts aside; convince myself that I was fulfilling my role. I had to be a good wife, and I couldn’t do that if I let that voice cloud my judgment. But now the voice was back, and with Ashton compounding the very sentiments I’d worked so hard to evade, it was getting harder and harder to ignore.
“Elena?”
I looked up. Ashton was finished, but all I’d managed to do was push the food around my plate. He set his wine glass down and leaned back in his chair.
“Want to talk about it?”
It felt wrong, like speaking to Ashton would be betraying Dominic, so I continued to pick at my food, this time forcing myself to eat some of the meal. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ashton waiting. Something told me he wouldn’t let it go. Could it really be considered a betrayal when Dominic pu
t me in this situation in the first place?
“Why don’t you take a drink and finish eating. Then we’ll talk.”
It may have sounded like a suggestion, but the way in which Ashton delivered this proposal told me he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I lifted the glass to my lips and paused. “Since I met you, it seems like you’re always trying to get me to drink.”
Ashton’s eyes widened. “Did you just say something snarky?”
Where did that come from? “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” My hands began to shake so badly I almost dropped the glass.
Ashton rounded the table quickly to take it from me, setting it on the table before saying softly, “Elena, relax. I like it. It’s what you should be doing all the time. It’s called standing up for yourself.”
I stared at the glass, not wanting to meet his eyes. “That’s not how I should behave.”
“This shit again.” He handed me back the glass with a frown. “Drink up.”
To avoid spilling the drink, I slowly brought it to my lips, taking my first sip of the tart red wine, feeling myself start to settle as my stomach warmed from the alcohol. I couldn’t even blame my brazenness on the wine. The thought that I could have ruined everything with one comment had left me feeling panicked—up until Ashton had reassured me. Not being used to speaking my mind, I was shocked that he liked it.
Ashton didn’t try to engage me in conversation and his silence unnerved me, making it harder to get my food down, even though each bite was more delicious than the last. I should be used to silence at the dinner table, except Ashton hadn’t been silent from the moment I met him. When he finally spoke up, I almost sighed in relief.
“Tell me, how did you and Dominic meet?”
“We were high school sweethearts. He was the captain of the football team.”
“What did you do?”
“Me? I was in the choir and band.” I remember thinking how lucky I was that a guy as popular as Dominic wanted to go out with me. He was the captain. He could have had anyone.
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