Текст книги "Traded"

Автор книги: Rebecca Brooke

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

CHAPTER 6

Elena

His wide eyes and gaping mouth were a sight I hadn’t seen directed at me in a long time. Dominic used to look at me that way before we were married, before he realized that I needed work and help being a good wife. Ashton’s eyes were filled with honesty, admiration, and if I wasn’t very much mistaken, lust.

I shook the thought from my head. No way any man, especially one who looked like Ashton, could think I was worthy of a second glance; much less the “I want to eat you up expression” he wore. I watched carefully as he stepped around his desk, moving across the room to stand in front of me. Suddenly I felt like Little Red Riding Hood being stalked by the Big Bad Wolf. My gaze dropped to the floor.

“Look at me, Elena.”

My eyes moved to his and I waited to be reprimanded. I shouldn’t have gone to the spa. I should have offered to make dinner.

Damn it, Elena.

But as ashamed as I felt, I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit to thoroughly enjoying my day. I couldn’t remember the last time someone else cut my hair, much less, added highlights. Dominic thought it was an unnecessary expense. Frivolous, he called it. Then to add a massage, manicure, pedicure, and personal shopper on top of it all? I sighed at the memory, knowing it had been one of the best days of my life.

“Why do you always look at the floor?”

My attention snapped back to Ashton and I replied, “I’m afraid you’re going to yell at me.”

“Yell at you for what?”

“I don’t know, wasting the day when I should have been cleaning or making you lunch and dinner.” My heart rate was thundering, galloping like a whipped horse as I began wringing my hands.

There was nothing for a beat, then Ashton took ahold of my fingers and pulled them apart, holding them firmly in his own. “I told you earlier, I don’t expect you to take care of me. Somehow, someway, I’m going to teach you how wrong that line of thinking is. Now, did you enjoy your day?”

“Yes, thank you.” The urge to look away was almost overpowering but I fought it. Doing what Ashton said was my goal.

“What was your favorite part?”

What if I picked the wrong thing? My hands began to sweat, which succeeded only in reminding me that he was still holding them. There was no chance he wouldn’t notice it. “I really liked the shopping.”

He smiled and let go of one of my hands, lifting the other above my head, causing me to twirl around where I stood. “I can tell. This dress looks fantastic on you.”

Could the desire I’d seen in his eyes have been directed at me? After only a day away from home my world was upended, and I had no idea which way was up. My hands began to shake. I was so far out of my comfort zone, I didn’t know where to begin. He was a man, like Dominic, but their thoughts were polar opposites.

Which of them is right?

As if sensing my increasing nervousness, Ashton changed the subject. “I want to show you around the house, but I just need ten minutes to finish up some paperwork.”

“That’s okay, I can head on up to my room.” I tugged at my hands. He still hadn’t let me go.

“Are you going to hide, or for another reason?”

His tone, coupled with the tilt of his chin and his assessing eyes, made it clear he wouldn’t let me go if he didn’t like my answer, but for once, that didn’t scare me. What the difference was I couldn’t say, but I answered honestly. “I want to put the new clothes away and change before dinner.”

He took a step forward and lifted my hand to his mouth, touching his lips against my skin. “Your new clothes, Elena, and I think that’s an excellent idea. But keep the dress on. You look great in it.”

Heat rushed to my face and I nodded, taking my hand from his as soon as he let me, and scurrying out the door. In the safety of my room, I took deep gulping breaths. No man had ever had an effect like that on my body. Every part of me felt like flames were burning paths down every nerve ending in my body. Then I remembered what brought me here in the first place. Dominic was my husband. I loved him. I’d sworn to love and obey him until death and I’d meant it. So why, for just one moment, did it feel like everything with him was wrong.

A knock against wood interrupted my thoughts, the hinges creaking as the door opened slowly. Ashton stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, his eyes on the bags at the foot of the bed. I hadn’t managed to put anything away. My face flushed.

“Ready for the tour?”

I nodded, not trusting my tongue to work correctly. Being near him sent my heart into overdrive and made me breathless.

“Then let’s go.”

It turned out the house was even bigger than I’d imagined. All the bedrooms were on the second floor and each had its own bath. The first floor had everything from a pool to a game room, a small library to a kitchen bigger than my whole apartment. Thoughts of ways to spend my days rushed through my head before I had a chance to push them aside like I normally would.

“Your home is beautiful.”

Ashton smiled. “Thank you. For the next few months it’s your home as well. Every room in this house is for your use. You don’t need to spend the whole time hiding in your bedroom.” He winked and I felt a flutter deep in my stomach. I might have lied and said I would do that, but that wouldn’t help Dominic. Then again, he had just handed me over.

“I’ll try not to, but unless I’m cooking or cleaning, I really don’t know what to do with myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He placed his hand at the small of my back, leading me toward the kitchen and dining room. The touch was intimate and unfamiliar but he left no room for me to question it. “Let’s have dinner.”

The guilt for not contributing to dinner overwhelmed me, yet I kept silent. My stomach clenched, waiting for permission. Ashton had already made it very clear that I didn’t need to cook for him and I didn’t want to risk upsetting him by going over old ground. When we reached the dining room, I saw the table was set and covered with food. Ashton led me to a seat and pulled out the chair for me. Again, I wasn’t used to such a gesture. Dominic usually just sat down and began eating.

“What would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

My response was immediate. Instinctive. He stepped next to my chair and placing his finger under my chin, he lifted my gaze to his. “Starting now, you need to start making your own decisions.”

My eyes slid closed and my voice wavered. “I’m not sure I know how. Can’t you just decide? Dominic always decides for me.”

“That’s part of the problem. I’m going to teach you how to make your own choices.”

His direct way of talking gave me the courage to ask, “Why is it wrong that Dominic helps me make decisions? He’s teaching me how to be a good wife.”

There was a slight paused before Ashton answered, and when he did, I noted a tone to his voice that I recognized all too well. He was unhappy. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that from you. He’s not teaching you, Elena, he’s controlling you—there’s a big difference. As long as he has control, you’ll stay with him, no matter how badly he treats you.”

“He doesn’t treat me badly,” I whispered, doing so because a lot of what Ashton had just said made sense, and that in turn was making me question a lot of things; things that I didn’t have time to process right then.

“Oh really? How many times have you cried because of things he said or did the last time you saw him?”

Stunned into silence, I sat there. Dominic made me cry at least three times a day—most days it was more. I didn’t really enjoy crying or hearing him insult me, but I knew it would continue to happen until I learned. I blinked up at Ashton, staring, unsure how to respond.

“I think you just answered my question. Now I’ll ask again, what would you like to drink?”

I knew Ashton wouldn’t let it go until I made a decision so I said quietly, “Can I have a glass of red wine?” It felt good to decide for myself, especially when he didn’t reprimand me for making the wrong choice.

“That I can do.” He smiled and walked to a side table with glasses and different bottles on top and poured two glasses, bringing one to me before taking his own seat, directly opposite me. We passed the dishes back and forth, filling our plates. It all looked so delicious.

“Everything looks wonderful,” I said, unfolding my napkin across my lap.

“Thank you. Julia made it.”

“Julia?”

He smiled. “My housekeeper. I cook for myself most nights, but every once in a while, if I’m busy, she’ll do it. And tonight I wanted to have time to talk instead of cooking.”

“Talk about what?”

“Anything you want.”

Ashton handed over the tray of chicken. Taking a piece, I then finished filling my plate. The room fell silent and I felt the familiar flush of embarrassment as I fumbled for something to say before admitting, “Dominic and I don’t really talk.”

“Let me guess, he doesn’t want to do anything but eat and then do something else.”

I winced when he said “something else.” My sex life was not something I wanted to talk about. Maybe that wasn’t what he was referring to, but that’s where my mind went. With each passing moment his gaze intensified, his eyes darkening, becoming heated. Under his watchful eye a feeling unfurled in my stomach. It wasn’t unwelcome—quite the opposite—but acknowledging that him looking as me was having a physical effect on me . . .

Shame washed over me. Ashton must have noticed because his face went soft. He opened his mouth to say something but I got in first.

“Usually there was a game on he wanted to see. He always ate quickly so he wouldn’t miss it.”

“Did you watch the games with him?”

“No, I had to clean up dinner, get laundry done, make his lunch.”

“So you were his slave.”

I gasped. “No! He’s my husband, it’s my job to take care of him.”

His brows drew together. “But you worked at the diner, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes. I needed to help pay the bills.”

“Yeah, he was definitely spending his paycheck on the bills—that’s why he borrowed money from me in the first place. Jesus, Elena, this isn’t the 1950s. You have a job outside the home; it isn’t your job to take care of him as well. What he’s doing to you—it’s abuse.”

“Dominic’s never laid a hand on me,” I scoffed.

“He may not beat you, but it doesn’t always require fists to hurt someone.”

Ashton let the comment hang in the air and took a bite of his chicken. We ate in silence, the cold atmosphere creeping through the room a sharp contrast to our earlier light conversation, and all the while I sat and contemplated what he’d said. A voice in the back of my head, one I hadn’t heard in a long time, started screaming at me that Ashton was right. What Dominic had done, and continued to do to me had nothing to do with love. It was twisted and wrong.

The voice had grown quiet over the years. When we were first married, I wanted to please my new husband, so it was easy to push those thoughts aside; convince myself that I was fulfilling my role. I had to be a good wife, and I couldn’t do that if I let that voice cloud my judgment. But now the voice was back, and with Ashton compounding the very sentiments I’d worked so hard to evade, it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Elena?”

I looked up. Ashton was finished, but all I’d managed to do was push the food around my plate. He set his wine glass down and leaned back in his chair.

“Want to talk about it?”

It felt wrong, like speaking to Ashton would be betraying Dominic, so I continued to pick at my food, this time forcing myself to eat some of the meal. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ashton waiting. Something told me he wouldn’t let it go. Could it really be considered a betrayal when Dominic put me in this situation in the first place?

“Why don’t you take a drink and finish eating. Then we’ll talk.”

It may have sounded like a suggestion, but the way in which Ashton delivered this proposal told me he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I lifted the glass to my lips and paused. “Since I met you, it seems like you’re always trying to get me to drink.”

Ashton’s eyes widened. “Did you just say something snarky?”

Where did that come from? “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” My hands began to shake so badly I almost dropped the glass.

Ashton rounded the table quickly to take it from me, setting it on the table before saying softly, “Elena, relax. I like it. It’s what you should be doing all the time. It’s called standing up for yourself.”

I stared at the glass, not wanting to meet his eyes. “That’s not how I should behave.”

“This shit again.” He handed me back the glass with a frown. “Drink up.”

To avoid spilling the drink, I slowly brought it to my lips, taking my first sip of the tart red wine, feeling myself start to settle as my stomach warmed from the alcohol. I couldn’t even blame my brazenness on the wine. The thought that I could have ruined everything with one comment had left me feeling panicked—up until Ashton had reassured me. Not being used to speaking my mind, I was shocked that he liked it.

Ashton didn’t try to engage me in conversation and his silence unnerved me, making it harder to get my food down, even though each bite was more delicious than the last. I should be used to silence at the dinner table, except Ashton hadn’t been silent from the moment I met him. When he finally spoke up, I almost sighed in relief.

“Tell me, how did you and Dominic meet?”

“We were high school sweethearts. He was the captain of the football team.”

“What did you do?”

“Me? I was in the choir and band.” I remember thinking how lucky I was that a guy as popular as Dominic wanted to go out with me. He was the captain. He could have had anyone.

Ashton leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “When did you get married?”

“After we both finished college—”

“Wait. You have a college degree?” he said, and the surprise in his voice hurt my feelings a little.

“I do. I majored in musical theater.”

He shook his head. “Then what the hell are you doing working in a diner?”

I shrugged. “Dominic thought it would be a waste of time for me to go to auditions when I could have a full time job with a steady income.”

“Fucker wouldn’t even let you follow your dream.”

His voice was low enough that I knew I wasn’t supposed to have heard what he said. But I did and I sank back in my seat, wanting to defend my husband, but not wishing to upset Ashton any further. “He was right. We needed the money.”

He looked over at me, sighed and reached across the table, taking one of my hands and giving it a gentle squeeze, his thumb running lightly back and forth over my knuckles. “Not at the expense of your dream. I know for a fact he’s been gambling a long time. My guess—he wanted you to have a job to help pay for his extracurricular activities.”

I shook my head emphatically. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Yes he would, Elena, and he did. Don’t kid yourself.”

That hurt worse than I thought it would. The idea that Dominic would make me give up my dream so he could gamble. My stomach was in knots. “I don’t know what to say. We’re married. I wanted to do the best I could for him, especially since we didn’t plan on getting to that point so young.”

He tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

I flinched. “Our wedding wasn’t exactly intentional.”

Ashton released my hand and leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his hands clasped and resting against his mouth.

“Explain.”

I took a deep breath and began . . .

My head feels as if there’s a jacking hammer drilling into my brain. Maybe the surprise trip to Vegas for my graduation wasn’t such a good idea. Opening my eyes slowly, afraid of the light on the other side, I see Dominic, sleeping peacefully next to me. Our clothes from last night are scattered all over the room, including the three dresses I put on when deciding what to wear. Dominic had said he didn’t like any of them and kept asking me to change. One of them was too tight, he said. It made my butt look big. The other two were too revealing; the first showed too much leg, although it was halfway down my thighs; the second too much cleavage, when only last week I wore it to brunch with Mom.

Shaking my head, I smile to myself. Since we’re in Vegas, I can always shop for new clothes. I’ll take Dominic shopping—make sure he likes the stuff before I buy it. Running my hands over my face, I know a shower and food will help to clear the fog. Carefully climbing out of bed, I make my way to the bathroom quietly because Dominic doesn’t like being woken up in the morning. He’ll be nasty for the rest of the day if I disturb him so it’s easier to just be quiet until he gets up so we can go to breakfast.

I turn on the water for the shower. Waiting for it to heat, I reach for my toothbrush and almost scream out loud. There, on the third finger of my left hand, sits a solid gold band.

A wedding band.

Running from the bathroom, I pull back the bed sheet to look at Dominic’s hand, finding a matching band resting just below his knuckle.

Oh God. What happened last night?

With determination, I search through our clothes and bags, looking for something to explain what’s going on. There in the pocket of Dominic’s pants is a receipt from the Chapel O’ Love for his and hers wedding bands, and one ceremony. Stapled to the receipt is a piece of flimsy paper: the official Nevada marriage license.

Holy hell. We got married.

We’re married.

It’s what I’ve been hoping for—even if it’s happened a little earlier than I expected.

For one brief second I think about waking Dominic up, but he probably won’t be happy. It’s probably better to let him sleep before I tell him.

I get into the shower and once out and dressed, I go back into the main room. Dominic is sitting in one of the tub chairs, the license clutched in his hand, the vein in his temple pulsing wildly.

“What the fuck is this?” He holds the paper up, waving it in front of me. I thought he was going to be unhappy, but this is more. He’s angry.

I hold my hands up. “Now, Dominic—”

“Don’t Dominic me. You tricked me! You got me drunk last night so you could trap me.”

A small laugh escapes my mouth before I can stop it. “I did no such thing. I woke up this morning remembering as little as you do. I had just as much to drink last night.”

“Which is why I always tell you not to drink,” he snaps.

I drop into the chair next to him, the pain in my heart making my chest ache. “What do you want me to do? We could try and get a divorce? Or maybe an annulment?”

He stands, his tall frame towering over me. “You think this is funny?”

This isn’t the first time he’s freaked out like this. Eventually he’ll calm down, but it still makes me want to hide. He can get mean when he’s like this and I don’t like it. “No. I’m just not sure what else we can do.”

“You wanted this, didn’t you,” he accuses.

I look away, feeling the tears burn my eyes. “I won’t lie, Dominic. I was hoping you’d want to make me your wife, someday.”

“Do you even know how to be a wife?”

His sneer is hurtful but I answer quickly, “Not really, but I can try. I’m a quick learner.”

He paces the room, back and forth until he comes to a stop in front of the large plate window. He stares out at the skyline for a few moments and I’m afraid he’ll turn around and say he wants a divorce. “Fine,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll stay married—but if this is going to work, you need to learn how to be a good wife.”

My heart leaps. Dominic has been my world for so long. Things can only get better now that he’s mine and I am his. Maybe he’ll be less jealous. Less possessive.

I run up and wrap my arms around him. “I promise, I’ll be the best wife ever.”

He doesn’t kiss me like I expect. Instead, he unwraps my hands and drags me across the room, back toward the bed. “And you can start right now. I’m going to teach you how a wife should act in bed.”

The soft brush of a finger across my cheek brought everything back into focus. I hadn’t realized I’d been crying until Ashton wiped away my tears. He’d dragged his chair closer to mine while I’d been speaking and was now only inches from me, his legs splayed, cocooning me where I sat. “Don’t cry, Elena. That prick doesn’t deserve another tear from you.”

“I just want to make him happy.” My eyes closed, trying to block out the pain.

“That’s not what he wants. He wants a slave.”

“I tried to be everything he wanted me to be. Why isn’t that enough?” Holding back the sobs made my chest ache and so I gave in, letting them go. Ashton gently pulled me into his arms and held me while I cried.

Eventually the tears slowed, some semblance of control returning. Leaning away, I brushed furiously at my face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Don’t be sorry. I think you needed that.”

He cupped my face, using his thumbs to wipe away the remaining tears, and when our eyes connected, the frames of his glasses making the green of his irises even brighter, I was lost. My heart raced and my breath came in pants, my body reacting to the near perfection that was Ashton Hawes. His eyes slid closed and for one brief moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. My eyes fluttered shut and I waited, surprised and a little disappointed when I heard his groan and the sound of his chair pushing back.

I wasn’t beautiful enough for a man like Ashton. The fact that I even considered I might be was enough to bring me close to tears again.

“Stop, Elena. I can see your emotions in your eyes. Don’t think for one second you aren’t beautiful. You happen to be one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, some asshole with a superiority complex has skewed your view of yourself. Last night I promised not to take you to my bed unless you wanted to be there willingly, and I stand by that. I will not sit here and ravage you when you’re upset.”

He did say that last night, and while my body may be willing and waiting for a night with Ashton, my mind was at war with itself. Locked in a battle of right and wrong.

“You need to be ready if you want me, Elena, because I don’t make love—I fuck. But I can guarantee you that if you make the decision to climb into my bed, I’ll show you more pleasure than you’ve ever known.”

Heat raced up my cheeks and for the first time, I felt my panties wet with desire. Ashton pushed me to that point through his words alone. Silence was my only defense.

“Now before I can’t keep my promise to keep my hands to myself, let’s each get into something more comfortable and we’ll watch a movie.”

“Okay,” I said, practically running from the room.

I needed to get myself under control. Something about Ashton kept drawing me to him, despite my head screaming that it wasn’t right to betray Dominic. Yes, he’d given me permission, but I made vows and I’d meant them. Grabbing a new pair of yoga pants and a fitted T-shirt, I took deep calming breaths and resolved that I would watch the movie, but I needed to be prepared while I was down there.