The Wolf and His Wife (Wolf 2)

Abigail kept watching me. “Arwen came home not too long ago. She’s probably still awake.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Abigail knew my marriage was bogus. It was just an arrangement to get what I wanted—what my father wanted. But Arwen had obviously charmed Abigail just like she did with everyone else.

“It’s rare for you to come home alone with scotch on your breath…that’s all.”

Only Abigail could talk to me like that. Anyone else would be fired. But I needed her way too much to ever let her go, so she got away with pretty much everything. “Just wasn’t my night.”

“Or maybe it was.” With a knowing look in her eyes, she gave me a smile. Then she walked out of the kitchen to let me think about what she’d just said.

It didn’t take me long to ponder her meaning. I came home alone because I wanted to be alone. If I hadn’t found a woman I liked at that bar, I could have just gone to another. But the urge to find a woman for the night had disappeared. Why search for something you already had?

I left the kitchen and headed upstairs to the second landing. When I reached the top, I ran into Arwen.

In a nightdress with her face washed clean of makeup, she stilled next to the banister, clearly surprised to bump into me on her journey. Her eyes took me in with her guard up, but slowly, she turned docile. “You’re home late.”

“I was out with Kent.”

“Yeah…I can smell the scotch from here.”

“I always smell like scotch.”

She smiled slightly. “And you’re alone… That’s unusual.”

I wanted to tell her that I didn’t find anyone I liked, that I searched but was unable to find anyone that interested me. But that would be a lie, and I didn’t have the energy to weave a bullshit story. The reason I was alone was because I wanted to be alone. She knew it…I knew it. “What are you doing?”

“Going to the kitchen.”

“Thirsty?”

“No…just wanted a snack. I never eat before a performance because I want to look as slim as possible, but then I’m so hungry afterward.”

I had no idea why, but I found that cute. “Want me to make you something?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “I was just going to rummage through the fridge until I found something good.”

“I’ll come with you. I could use a snack too.”

We returned to the kitchen, and she opened the fridge and let the light fill the dark room. “Hmm…there’s lots of options here.” Her nightdress was short and showed her sexy legs in the light from the refrigerator. With one hand on her hip and her head tilted to the side, she examined the contents. “Leftover ravioli…that looks pretty good.”

Abigail probably knew we’d returned to the kitchen, but she didn’t appear to offer to cook anything so she could leave us alone. I watched Arwen pull out the container and set it on the counter. “Want to split it?”

I wasn’t hungry. “Sure.”

She put it in the microwave for a minute before she pulled it out again. She set it on the counter and grabbed two forks. She put one ravioli into her mouth and moaned like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. “Cheese ravioli…so good.”

I put one in my mouth, unimpressed because I was used to Abigail’s culinary perfection. “How was the opera?”

“Good. Uneventful.” She kept eating, standing with me at the counter. “How was Kent?”

“Good. Uneventful.”

She chuckled. “I doubt you would spend so much time with him if that were the case.”

“We talked about my father…shit like that.” Sometimes, we had a good time. Sometimes, we talked about serious stuff.

“That sounds like a deep conversation.”

“He told me I should kill my father…but I can’t do it.” I set my fork down and leaned against the counter as I watched her continue to eat. I loved the way her plump lips parted as she slipped the ravioli inside. Her mouth was sexy, regardless of what she did with it.

“There’s still hope.”

I shook my head. “I really don’t think there is.” My father had threatened to kill me several times now, even though once was already enough. “But it’s hard for me to forget that he’s my father…the person who taught me to ride a bike and become a man. I have to remember that’s not who he is anymore, but there’s something deep inside me that believes he might change.”

“He might…”

I shook my head again. “It’s not gonna happen.”

She took another bite then watched me with sad eyes. Even without makeup, she was stunning. With that thick hair and bright eyes, she always had the appearance of a doll. She set her fork down and returned the lid to the container. “I’m sorry…” She moved in front of me and placed her hands on my chest. “You don’t deserve to go through this… I wish I could fix it.” Her eyes looked at her hands against my chest, her fingertips feeling my hard torso through my shirt. She slowly lifted her chin to meet my gaze, her eyes still sympathetic.