But my wife shone like always, so she stole the show.
I walked into the main entryway and admired the painting on the wall. It was an original portrait of Christopher Columbus, just before he died in Spain. It was massive, taking up most of the large wall. I preferred historical art pieces because they were darker, more realistic. Modern art had pops of color that were borderline fantastical.
“Beautiful, right?” Sabrina sauntered to my side with a glass of scotch in her hand. She was a young widow. Her husband had passed away in a horrific car accident, and she was still shopping for a new husband.
“Yes.” I didn’t take my eyes off the painting.
“Your wife is pretty.” She stood at my side, her fingers clutching the glass of scotch. With jet-black hair and green eyes, she was a beautiful woman. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice—since I’d slept with her once. It wasn’t long after her husband was gone that she’d wanted comfort and jumped into my bed.
“I know.” I swirled my glass and took a drink.
She smiled. “I thought you said you would never get married.”
She tried to dig her claws into me, but I didn’t take the bait. She was already wealthy from her late husband’s inheritance, but she still wanted more. She wanted to be a well-kept woman with a husband who ran the show. “Things change.”
“Then you must really love her.”
I continued to stare at the painting.
She pivoted her body toward mine, waiting for an answer that I would never give her. “Or do you?” Her hand moved to my arm.
My instincts kicked in, and I pulled my arm down, getting away from the soft touch of her delicate fingertips. “I’m not yours to touch, alright?” I turned my gaze on her, cold and unkind.
She brushed off the rejection with a slight smile then walked off.
Heels sounded a second later as Arwen entered the room, passing Sabrina on the way. Both women looked at each other, Sabrina smiling with her lips but not her eyes. She gave Arwen a glance-over before she kept walking.
Arwen came to my side. “What are you doing in here?”
“Admiring this painting.”
“Did that woman admire it too?”
I lowered my glass and turned my gaze toward her. “Yes.”
I knew her well enough to understand when she was jealous, and she was definitely jealous in that moment. Her eyes flashed in hostility, and with her superb intelligence, she could read a room so well. She must have felt the cold flame between two former lovers. She must have noticed the way Sabrina looked at me, caught a glimpse of her hand on my arm. Arwen had been smiling minutes ago, but now her lips were pressed tightly together in a frown.
I didn’t make her ask for the information she wanted. “We hooked up a few times when her husband passed away.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the wall. It was a priceless painting, worth tens of millions, but we didn’t truly appreciate it. “She seems like she wants to hook up again…”
“No.”
“People grab your arm like that often?”
I wanted to tell her there was no reason to be jealous, but I couldn’t. I’d betrayed her trust. “When we were together, I told her I wasn’t interested in marriage, so she moved on. I’m married now, so she feels a little stung.”
“But you aren’t really married…”
I didn’t wear this ring on my left hand for looks or comfort. I wore it to show the world my commitment. “I am really married.” I positioned myself in front of her, forcing her to look at me instead of the painting. “It doesn’t matter if she wants me because I’m committed to you.”
She reached the second landing, her perfect body shifting from left to right as she carried herself. In high heels and a dress that required perfect posture at all times, she handled herself with grace.
My eyes stared at her back until I reached the second floor.
She turned around to say goodbye, cutting me off from her bedroom. “Good night, Maverick.”
I knew it would take time to fix the destruction I’d caused, but the wait was torture. It was worse when she wore a dress like that, the shape of her tits visible underneath the thin fabric. I wanted her on my bed, our naked bodies together, husband and wife. But Sabrina only made me look worse, so of course, Arwen was in a bad mood. “Arwen?”
She stopped and looked at me over her shoulder, her pose so perfect, it could be a painting.
With my hands in my pockets, I came closer to her, unsure what I would do once we were face-to-face once more. If I had full authority, I would grab her face and kiss her. But I had no power over this woman…none at all.