Wife (Betrothed 1)

Her blue eyes were glued to his side profile, her eyes heavy with lust and affection. She looked at that man like he was all she wanted in this world, like she wanted to take him home and never let him leave. Her hand grazed right over his crotch then slowly moved up his chest, pampering him as she slid toward his neck.

Hades had his arm around her shoulders, but he didn’t shower her in the same affection. He looked at her indirectly and allowed her to touch him, to let her claim him as hers. She was a beautiful woman a man would give up anything to be with, but to him, she didn’t seem that important.

She moved her body into him, pressing her tits against his arm and chest as she whispered something into his ear.

He grinned when he heard whatever dirty thing she’d just said.

I hardly knew Hades, so I couldn’t make assumptions about his character, but from what I was watching, he was like every other handsome and successful man. He was in the game indefinitely, never retiring his jersey. She was just another notch on his bedpost.

But to her, she thought she’d won the jackpot.

I’d been a victim of that handsome grin, of those pretty eyes that made you melt. I’d only spoken to him for minutes when I’d dug my fingers into his hair and yanked him against me. He oozed masculinity, and he reeked of good sex. I told myself I was a young girl giving in to my hormones, but I still felt the same level of attraction toward him now. He was a safe bet, a man who wouldn’t take you home then let you down.

I continued to enjoy my drink and watch them, wishing I were going home with a hunk myself. It was nice to wash off the workday with a glass of booze, but getting fucked by a big dick was better.

Hades eventually turned away from her and looked around, probably intending to order another drink since his was empty. It only took him a second to notice me sitting alone in the black leather booth. His jaw didn’t tighten, and his eyes didn’t narrow in recognition. He had no reaction at all—a perfect poker face.

Once our eyes had locked for several seconds, I turned away and kept nursing my drink. When the waitress came by, I would close my tab and head home. Esme was gonna score with a handsome guy, and the last man I’d had an erotic encounter with in Florence was just feet away from me, another woman about to give him a hand job under the table. I should just call it quits and head home.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Hades have a brief conversation with his date then slide out of the booth. When he stood, the air in the room changed, a spark had been ignited. He moved down the stairs and came toward me.

I took a long drink from my glass and ignored him.

He invited himself into my leather booth, sliding in until he was close beside me.

I couldn’t help but take a peek at the woman he’d been with just seconds ago. She watched him turn his attention on me with fire in her gaze. She looked equally enraged and hurt.

He sat beside me, his body pivoted toward me with one arm on the table. His silver watch was visible just underneath the sleeve of his collared shirt. He smelled like sandalwood and smoke, like he was a man who spent his time outdoors in the forest. Silence passed between us, the music from the speakers not loud enough to fill the void in conversation.

I refused to speak first, so I continued to drink like he wasn’t there.

Hades wasn’t unnerved by my indifference. He continued to stare at me, comfortable with the unspoken feud raging between us. His brown eyes watched my movements, watched me sip from my glass then return it to the table. Every movement I made was observed.

Now, I started to become uncomfortable, started to break under that formidable stare. But I refuse to give any indication that I was tense, that I was the same shy girl he’d met four years ago.

To break the ice, I pushed my glass toward him.

He lifted the glass, shook the ice, and then took a drink. He set it down and slid it back toward me. “Piss.”

“Better than what you’re drinking.”

“I’m not drinking anything.”

I held up my glass. “Exactly.” I took another drink and watched Esme get lost in her conversation with her new friend. She didn’t seem to notice that I’d disappeared. She was probably so smitten with the guy that everything else ceased to matter.

The corner of his mouth rose in a smile, just slightly. Then he subtly raised his hand and immediately got the attention of the waiter. Without looking at him, he ordered. “Scotch, neat, double.”