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Ian Wood stared at his brand new wife and couldn’t help but smile at how fucking smug he felt. For the longest time he’d wanted to avoid having a wife. Years spent listening to his mother constantly pester him. There was not a time he didn’t go home when she didn’t push woman after woman under his nose.
He didn’t want a wife, especially not one that his mother suggested.
They were always blond, beautiful, and sporting fake tits, which was fine but there was no way he’d ever allow his mother to pick a woman that he intended to be with for the rest of his life. To avoid her constant meddling, he’d heard about this very interesting site on the Internet that not only found you a wife to match what you needed, but took care of all the basics. Arranging the details of a contract, organizing the wedding, that sort of thing. With her legally bound to him, Lucy Redman was now his bride.
Nodding at the officiate, he placed his hand at the base of her back as they left the registry office. They’d not opted for a large church wedding, and he was pleased. He couldn’t wait to go home and to see the look of shock on his parents’ faces. At forty years old, he’d grown tired of trying to make excuses. Waving away the photographer that was stationed outside, he took his wife to his waiting limo.
Lucy still hadn’t said anything to him apart from her vows. From their first meeting, she’d stayed quiet, letting him do all the talking and arranging.
Once inside the limo, he leaned back with a sigh of contentment. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’re going straight to my parents’ house for lunch.” It was a Saturday but he didn’t want to miss a moment.
The Woods were a wealthy family and seeing as he ran his own company away from the family empire, he knew exactly how wealthy they were. In fact, his biggest competition was his own family. He’d never gotten along with his parents, and would probably never see them again, but he liked to rub it into their fake faces exactly how fucking well he’d done without them.
Maybe he was a little fucked up in the head, he didn’t know.
“Can I go home first, get into something more comfortable?” Lucy asked, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. At his request, she wore the white designer summer dress that he’d sent her, one that he knew probably wasn’t too comfortable, but looked incredible on her. The moment he saw it passing a shop three weeks ago he knew she had to wear it for their wedding, and of course for the lunch he knew he was going to have with his parents.
It really brought out the blue of her eyes. In his world he was used to women of experience and bitchiness, whereas Lucy didn’t display a single one of those traits. In fact, when he looked into her eyes, he only saw innocence, and she always seemed to be nervous around him.
“I want you to meet my family,” he said, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.
Lucy was a beautiful woman.
She had that glow that drew people to her, and a kindness that most tried to exploit. He’d recognized it on the first date they’d shared and she was the first woman he’d ever felt an overwhelming need to protect.
“I thought you didn’t have a good relationship with them,” she asked.
He sighed, running a hand down his face. They’d talked a little before the wedding about his family and hers, how life had been growing up, all the usual prerequisite things a “couple” would discuss. “I don’t.” He’d been open and honest with her from the start, letting her know without a doubt that the only reason he was marrying her was to rub it in his family’s face that he’d picked his bride. He’d told her how his mother pushed women on him, and how Lucy was very different than the females his family probably saw him with. “Look, I promise you I won’t let them hurt you or anything. We’re married now. That changes a lot of things.” He took her hand, locking their fingers together.
They still had to talk about their living arrangements and he needed her to quit her job so that she could live with him full time. He was a demanding man, and he always wanted all the attention.
Lucy pulled her hand out of his, and he sighed. She didn’t seem to be the most willing of brides and he found that infuriating.
Running his fingers through his hair, he pressed the button to give them some privacy. He didn’t trust the driver’s beady little eyes watching them.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. When they were alone he didn’t have to be the asshole that he liked to portray to the outside world.