The Devious Husband (The Windsors, #6)

by Catharina Maura

“You shouldn’t walk on the cold marble floor barefoot,” he says, holding me tightly. “I’ll buy you some slippers tomorrow.”

“You have good taste,” I murmur, surprised how good the champagne is. “Of course I do,” he remarks, without missing a beat. “I married you, didn’t I?”

“If I say no, will you wear something inappropriate for me?”

“Be careful what you ask for, Kitten. There isn’t much I won’t do for you.”

“Don’t ever get hurt on my behalf,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then I suggest you handle me with care, Mrs. Kingston.”

“I’m well aware that you don’t need my money, but I still want you to have access to it. Perhaps it sounds strange to you, but I always imagined my wife buying whatever she wants with my card.”

I find myself standing in the most gorgeous library I’ve ever seen. It’s got two floors, a gorgeous spiral staircase, and more books than I can count.

“What is with your personal vendetta against tops?”

“I wear shirts and ties every day, wifey. Why would I want to wear them at home too?”

“I’m so used to protecting my projects from your prying eyes and hands that this is a little weird. You’re usually trying to steal my projects from me, and I honestly kind of hate to admit that your input is helpful.”

“You absolutely insane bullheaded piece of —” I’m tempted to scream into a pillow, but instead, I turn my head and bite down on the arm he’s got wrapped around me.

“I don’t know what I love more, your cute little fangs, or those claws of yours that you won’t show anyone but me.”

Xavier turns his head to kiss my cheek, his arms wrapping around me as he hugs me tightly, keeping reality at bay for a few more moments.

“What I do know is that you’re my wife, Sierra Kingston. You’re mine, and it looks like you need another reminder of that little fact.”

“Just like last night. At least your body remembers who it belongs to, hmm?”

“You might hate me, but your pussy fucking loves me. You want to come for me, don’t you?”

“For as long as we’re married, I’m the only man that’s touching you.”

“You’re mine, Sierra Kingston. Whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t know what to make of him, but I do know myself, and I’m not capable of being physically intimate with someone without there being an emotional attachment too.”

“But you don’t really know someone until you’ve lived with them, until you’ve seen them at both their best and worst.

“Waiting for you to stop running,” he answers, his expression unreadable. “I told you, didn’t I? I’ll wait a million years and a day, if that’s what it takes.”

“I don’t need more money,” I tell him. “I just need a chance with my wife.”

I hadn’t seen her in years, and I don’t think I ever looked away from the moment she returned, not while she was even remotely in my field of vision.

“Tell me, Kitten… this dinner date, is this you deciding to stop running?” She places her hand against my chest, her expression betraying a hint of insecurity. “What if it is?”

My sweet wife was never supposed to find out that I’m not just the businessman she thinks I am, but there’s no way of undoing what she just saw.

I knew I wasn’t good enough for her, that she was too pure for me, too innocent, and for years, that knowledge was sufficient to keep me away from her. When did that change? When did I become so selfish that I pulled someone like her into the shadows?

At the end of the day, I’m still a thug dressed up in expensive suits, and she’s damn near royalty.

“You want to help?” I whisper, cupping her face, my thumb brushing over her lips. “Then put your mouth to good use. Make me forget about everything but you.”

She has no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about having her on her knees for me, how desperately I need this, need her.

All of my thoughts fade away, until there’s nothing but her and how fucking amazing she’s making me feel. Sierra is the only one in this world that can make me forget about my worst nightmares.

She sounds desperate — for me

I wish she’d always look at me that way, like there’s no one but me, like I’m all she cares about.

She’s been waiting for her husband her whole life, and here I am, almost about to fuck her on the goddamn floor like some kind of fucking animal.

It’s ironic how I’ve become Schrödinger’s fucking kitten.

“I get what it’s like to not want to talk, and to not really be sure where to go, but you can’t keep this up. Tell me why you’re here looking like someone ran over your fucking pet when you should be at home with Sierra.”

“Give her some credit,” he says, his tone reassuring. “She never wanted the jokester you pretend to be, Xavier. The parts of you she’s always liked were the parts you inadvertently revealed when she got on your nerves and made you lose your temper.

Every misconception, every misunderstanding she’s got, stems from her own insecurities, her inability to believe someone could truly want her and put her first.

She’s doubted herself countless times, but never you, not when it mattered. She looks for excuses sometimes, reasons to push you away so she doesn’t have to put herself out there and face rejection, and she doesn’...

“Xavier, you didn’t scheme for years to have the mere chance to marry my sister, only to give up at the first hurdle. Stop letting your fears cloud your judgment and keep walking the road you chose. No one else can do it for you.”

Our roles seem to have been reversed, and I’m learning the hard way that karma is a bitch.

“Don’t be so foolish as to forget who I am, Xavier. No one gets away with threatening a Windsor. Not even you.” He rolls us over, and I fall back onto the bed, his body on top of mine. “Perhaps so, but you’re no longer a Windsor, Sierra Kingston

I’d rather be at odds with him than not have him around at all.

I should be mad at the stunt he pulled, but instead, I just feel oddly giddy. From the moment we got married, Xavier subtly made it clear he wanted me, that this marriage was more than the merger he claimed it was.

“Seemed like you needed to be reminded that you’re my wife

He thinks he’s getting on my nerves, but his behavior is reassuring. He seems much more like himself now, and I’m glad I gambled and tried to provoke him.

I’d never admit it to him, but when it comes to our business, I trust him blindly.

“Don’t ever, for even a single second, think I don’t care about you, Sierra. You’re always on my mind. Always

“Now tell me, Kitten… how should I punish you for your lies?”

“Bad husband,” I retort. “It’s not right to tease your wife like that.”

I never thought I’d find myself here — married to Xavier Kingston and desperate for him, but nothing has ever felt quite this right.