“She is not wrong, son. I know that it may be difficult now with your new wife but I assure you, things shall become easier over time. Perhaps you should consider starting a family.”
Roman stared at his father, his mouth agape. If he had not been so depressed, he might have laughed at the notion.
“A family?” he echoed. “Emmaline will not even – “
He stopped himself from saying his thoughts before his father could hear his humiliating confession. His wife would not allow for him to touch her, shooting him looks of contempt as they passed in the halls as if to prewarn him that any advances would be ill received.
Roman was beginning to wonder if the frustration he was feeling had less to do with the situation and more with the incredible attraction he had toward the sensual Emmaline Andrews. Her constant spurning was causing him to drink heavily and brood. Many a night he would barely remember stumbling home from the tavern, falling face first into his lonely bed.
“A child will bring joy to your household,” Nathan advised, clapping his son on his back. Roman gritted his teeth, discontent with the poor counsel which his father had presented. He rose to his feet and smiled weakly at him.
“Will you come for supper on Sunday?” Nathan asked as Roman slunk toward the door. Roman nodded curtly. Sunday was the only day which he was guaranteed to spend any amount of time with his wife. They would attend church together and then visit their respective parents for dinner on alternate Sundays. The upcoming Sunday was a date with the Carters, where he and Emmaline would chatter pleasantly with Genevieve and Nathan but not one another.
“Wonderful. Your mother is making flank steak.”
As the two men walked out into the bright Florida sunlight, neither noticed Oscar Andrews grinning maniacally at their conversation as he moved away from the swinging door which had parted them.
So, my little Emmaline is being cold toward her husband. Such a smart girl I raised. She will drive him away and when that occurs, I can opt out of this business once and for all without reprisal from Iris.
Roman walked into the house from the back entrance, startling his wife as the screen door slammed behind him. She peered up at him from the kitchen table where she was eating an orange and perusing a book. Her beautiful face puckered into a scowl and she immediately rose, ready to give him the room but Roman held up his hand.
“Do not bother. I am leaving,” he snapped, whirling on his heel and exiting the house as soon as he had entered. He could not bear to spend another moment in the tension infused walls. He wondered why he had bothered to return home after visiting his father. He should have headed directly to the tavern. It was where he ended up every night regardless.
“Where are you going?” she called out after him. He was out of view but not out of earshot and he found himself pausing mid step at the question. She had never asked him where he was going when he left the house. He wondered if it was her way of reaching out to him the way he had tried to connect with her. He resisted the urge to return and tell her the truth; he was tired of fighting his desire for her. Yet he could not bring himself to respond.
It is too late now, he thought miserably. She has made it perfectly clear that we are not to be friends in this mess. I will not play these silly games with her. See how she enjoys being on the receiving end of being ignored.
He climbed aback his horse and headed into town where he could drown his sorrows with bourbon.
Chapter Four
Emmaline glanced at the grandfather clock in the parlor and then at the staircase again impatiently. The time read eight thirty-five. They had to leave in ten minutes or they would be late. Emmaline despised to be tardy. Everyone’s eyes would be upon them more so than usual.
What on earth is keeping him? She wondered, annoyed as she adjusted her yellow gloves and smoothed her long blonde waves beneath her bonnet. They would be late for church if he took much longer. She gritted her teeth to keep from calling up to him.
You should go along without him, she thought bitterly but she knew she could not. It was imperative that they be seen together as a happily married couple. It was the reason behind their farcical union, was it not? Sunday was the only day of the week which Emmaline and Roman spent any amount of time in each other’s company. It was done by design, strictly for appearances so that the people in town could feast their eyes upon the dashing and well bred newlyweds.
From a business standpoint, it seemed that Nathan and Oscar were still floundering quite haplessly but the tongues in town seemed to slow regarding their feud. Now the focus of their gossip was their children, the charming couple and when they would be expecting their first child.
Their wagging jaws made Emmaline shudder.
As if I could possibly entertain the idea of having a child with that man, she thought angrily. She understood she was doing her daughterly duty marrying Roman but she would never allow for him to put a baby in her belly. She kept her bedroom door locked at night but Roman did not ever knock, not once since they had committed to separate quarters. Emmaline would never admit to anyone that it disappointed her that he did not venture a try but she dismissed the inane thought as soon as it entered her head. Theirs was not even a marriage of politeness for each exuded animosity toward the other.
Why would you want him to knock on your door? You would only slam it in his face…wouldn’t you?
Once more, Emmaline’s light eyes travelled toward the time and she picked up her yellow skirts and began to climb the stairs toward his bedchambers, fuming. They were most certainly going to be late. The door to his room was firmly closed and Emmaline inhaled sharply as if gathering inner strength to simply speak to her husband. She knocked on the door.
“Roman, we will be late for church,” she called, trying to keep the exasperation from her voice. There was no response and Emmaline pressed her ear against the thick wood to hear for movement. She could hear nothing and knocked again.
“Roman?”
Again, she was met with silence and her gloved hand found the brass doorknob, gently opening the latch.
“Roman?” Emmaline put her eye to the slit in the door and her irises widened in shock. He was still in bed asleep!
Fury coursed through her veins and she stormed inside, the door slamming against the wall. She shoved at his naked back ruthlessly, yelling his name once more.
“Wake up!” she bellowed and as he began to stir, Emmaline got a whiff of bourbon so strong, it almost knocked her down. Rage snaked through her as he opened his bloodshot blue eyes.
“You are drunk!” she hissed, pulling on his arm. He sat up, discombobulated and blinked the haziness from his eyes, slowly becoming aware of his incensed wife at his bedside.
“I am not drunk,” he slurred, wiping his face with long hands. His voice was hoarse.
“What are you doing in my chambers?”
“What am I – we are late for church!” Emmaline screeched and a look of sober understanding overcame him.
“I will be ready shortly,” he murmured, swinging his legs over the side of the bed but Emmaline was too furious to move. Her fists pressed firmly at her side she began to shake her head.
“You cannot attend church reeking of moonshine!” she snapped. “How dare you spend the night soaking in debauchery? You have responsibilities one day of the week and you cannot even honor that! What kind of man are you?”
Roman rose to his full six feet and glowered at her, multiple retorts springing to his lips but there was no room to interrupt Emmaline’s shrewd tongue and bottomless ire.
“Of all the men in Jacksonville I was forced to marry, I am stuck with the town drunk. You are disgraceful, Roman, truly – “
Her thought was cut off as he ruthlessly grabbed her by the arms and pressed his mouth to hers, knocking the wind from her slim body. The action startled her body frozen and she did not immediately react as Roman seized her neck, his tongue exploding into her gaping mouth. His free hand grabbed at her swelling breasts over the frills of h
er church dress. Abruptly, reality settled in and Emmaline began to fight against him, her arms beating against his broad chest but she was no rival for his stocky form and he whirled her around, pushing her into the tangle of blankets on the bed.
“What are you doing?” she screamed but his weight was already upon her, his strong hands hiking up her dress and exposing her underclothes. His mouth found the spot between her neck and shoulder, biting so hard, she was sure he had drawn blood. In spite of herself, Emmaline felt a rush of warmth shoot through her body, spilling into her crotch as Roman’s hands continued to explore her firm rear. He grappled around her corset, pushing the padding aside to allow for his fingers to feel the crease between her legs. She moaned at the touch, wanting him to stop and continue simultaneously.
“Wait,” she gasped but his fingertips had already dipped inside her juicy depth, his own hardness grinding against her naked thigh. His lips suckled around the skin of her shoulders as his digits began to pick up speed, coaxing more wetness from her core. Emmaline’s hands wrapped into the sheets, feeling her toes curl as she bucked upward against Roman’s weight. He sighed deeply in her ear, his hot breath sending gooseflesh over her in waves and suddenly Emma realized she was about to be taken like a wild animal.
“No!” she cried as Roman spread her cheeks apart. A hard slap on her buttocks caused her to jump and he slid into her with a full thrust. Emmaline clawed at the blankets, trying to escape the impending pounding but there was nowhere to go. Her husband grasped her waist firmly and jammed his shaft as deeply as it would go. Emmaline yelped in protest but Roman had not started, all the venom he had stored for the past weeks filling his bones and pulsating through his engorged member. Emmaline’s cries turned to screams of pleasure as he grew harder and his jabs became faster, sinking her deeply into the mattress. Streaks of hotness began to slither down her milky thighs as Roman erupted, grunting like a feral animal as he spilled his anger into his deserving wife. Over and over they rode the waves of their climax, Emmaline sure she would never stop releasing until finally, Roman was still, breathing heavily upon her. She could feel the erratic beat of his heart as he struggled to catch his breath.
Emmaline dared not move, the combination of indignation and arousal a bittersweet dizziness in her trembling frame.
Without warning, Roman withdrew and placed another stinging slap on Emmaline’s bare bottom.
“Get out,” he said and Emmaline flipped around, her face aghast at the words. A small smile played at his lips but he did not meet her eyes as he pulled his underclothes about his broad hips.
“I will be ready for church shortly,” he finished. He shot her a sidelong look and for the first time since they were wed, Emmaline found herself looking into her husband’s eyes. Her heart skittered dangerously and she felt a feeling of warmth course through her, staining her fair skin red. She whirled on her heel and rushed away down the stairs as if fleeing what she had just felt.
Chapter Five
Something had changed with Emmaline since their Sunday morning escapade but Roman was not entirely sure what it was. She still maintained her distance, barely acknowledging him when they were in the same room and making herself scarce when they were home together but he could sense a difference.
Perhaps it was the way she eyed him when she thought he was not looking or the fact that she did not immediately leave when he entered a space where she already was.
She is so responsive to my hands, her skin is so smooth and she is wonderfully taut, he thought, reliving that morning often in his mind. He recalled the softness of her supple lips and the passionate cries as he took her relentlessly. He tried to make conversation with her, to draw her out but she remained aloof, unwilling to participate in his tentative approach to winning her over.
It was but a one-time occasion. I acted rashly and out of anger but nothing has changed between us. You had hoped, possibly in a drunken moment that she might feel something back for you but that is what it is; wishful thinking on your part. You and Emmaline will return to living separate lives of quiet desperation.
Even though he had warned himself against optimism, he could not help but hope that he was wrong.
Emmaline felt her heart jump in her chest as the front door closed. She sat in the garden, staring at the sparkling waters of Mill Cove across the way.
He is home, she thought with some excitement, waiting for him to discover her outside in the afternoon sunlight. After a moment, she turned her head and peered into the house, expecting to catch a glimpse of her husband in the kitchen but she did not see him. Disappointment flooded through her as she settled back against the chair and fixed her sunhat.
Since their lustful union before church on Sunday, Emmaline had been unable to shake the dull ache in her loins, a longing to have Roman possess her again and in the same, furious way he had that morning. She envisioned him coming into the gardens and wresting her down into the grass with the same fervor, causing her to cry out so loudly, the people on the other side of the cove would hear.
Despite her innermost fantasies, she maintained her coldness with him but remained close by, lest he get overwhelmed with the urge to pin her to the ground and pound into her as ruthlessly as he had. He did not attempt to touch her again but she could feel him staring at her wistfully, trying to engage her.
No, I must not become friendly with him. He is still the enemy of my family. His father is ruining our family business. It would be deceitful to grow fond of Roman. Father would never forgive such a betrayal.
As Emmaline watched the sun slowly slip behind the blue horizon of the water, she felt a wistfulness envelop her.
It is better this way, she reasoned. Roman and I have little in common. He will graduate from college and take over the jewellery store and I will stand to inherit father’s shares. We will focus our attention into running the shop successfully. You needn’t be in love with someone to run a business. In fact, it is likely better that we are not friendly. Look what happened with father and Nathan Carter. Friendships and business do not mix.
Yet a small voice in the back of her mind asked a question for which she did not wish to entertain.
And who will you and Roman pass along the store to when you are gone?
“Darling! Come in!” Iris extended her arms toward Emmaline and ushered her into the house out of the rain. “Are you well?”
She nodded quickly, offering her mother a smile.
“I came to visit with father, mother. Is he present?”
Iris’ wise brown eyes seemed to grow smaller as she regarded her child.
“Yes, Emma. He’s in the attic, examining some gems he just acquired.” Emmaline’s eyes lit up hopefully.
“He acquired more stones? Is business much better then?”
Iris shook her head woefully.
“I fear not, child. This was a shipment he had been expecting for months. I imagine that it might be the last one for the shop the way things are going.”
Emmaline bit her lower lip.
“Will he mind terribly if I interrupt him?” she asked and Iris chuckled.
“To see his eldest? I daresay he will be happy for the interruption.”
Gratefully, Emmaline squeezed her mother’s hand and headed up the spiraling staircase toward the top of their grand house.
She rapped gently on the wall as he ascended the steps.
“Father? May I come in?” she called.
“Emma? Yes, of course, child. Come and see your papa.”
Emmaline climbed the remaining boards and faced her father. He sat at a simple wooden table with a scattering of gems about the surface, a loupe in his right eye. He popped the small glass out of his socket and beamed at Emma.
“What brings you here at this time of night?” he asked with concern glancing at his watch suspiciously. “Is all well? Is that boy mistreating you?”
“No, father, all is well. I simply wanted to see how you were faring.”
He beamed at hi
s daughter but his smile did not meet his blazing green eyes.
“I would be much happier knowing that you were not married into a family of thieves and liars,” he muttered. “But what is done is done now, is it not?”
Emmaline’s mouth sank downward at his words. She had come to visit Oscar specifically to gage his feelings toward Nathan Carter but she could see that nothing had changed.
Did they force this marriage upon us for no reason? Will they not manage to resolve their differences regardless of this empty gesture we have made in good faith?
The questions filled her with mixed emotions. If her father and Nathan Carter managed to become allies and salvage their joint business, she would be free to explore her feelings toward Roman unhindered by guilt but if the two men were unable to become the friends once more…
Emmaline turned her attention back toward Oscar.
“Father, what else can we do to fix matters at the store?”
Oscar shrugged heavily and sighed as if the weight of the world wore on him.
“I fear it is in God’s hands now, darling.”
On the staircase leading to the attic, Iris Andrews’ lids dropped, her face contorting into a mask of anger.
It is not in God’s hand, you selfish fool. It is in your hands. Yours and Nathan Carter’s and you will make it right for the sake of our children.
Chapter Six
“Oscar, what are you doing here? Is it the store?” Nathan peered at his estranged friend worriedly but Oscar shook his head.
“No, the store is fine…for now. May I come in?” Nathan squinted suspiciously but stepped aside to allow for him to enter. Genevieve slipped around the corner and smiled welcomingly.
“Good evening, Oscar,” she said cordially. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“Yes, please, Genevieve.”
“Bourbon?” she asked and Oscar nodded.
“Me also, darling!” Nathan called after her and extended his hands to show Oscar into the living room.
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