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“I don’t give a fuck how powerful you think you are. If you ever touch my wife again, I’ll slit your throat and bury your body where no one will ever find it. Do you understand?” he growls.
“Our marriage is a business arrangement, so I understand your being opposed to it. Neither of us wants this, but one thing I can promise is that I will never lay hands on you in anger.”
Dear God, what have I done?
My blood continues to boil over the fact that Donnelly hit my wife. Business arrangement or not, in our family, wives are treated with respect, and marriage is a sacred vow. One you do not break.
I draw more courage from the dark. “Respect. Honesty. Communication.” I take in a shaky breath. “I don’t expect love, but…” Beside me Jacob’s body goes rigid. I can’t even tell if he’s breathing. “But?” I hear the dread in his voice. The gruff wariness. Can he hear the lie in mine? Am I stupid to expect love in my marriage, especially since we’re still strangers who know nothing of one another? I have to give him something, though. “But I hope for caring. Someday, maybe.’’
“Your marriage is but signatures on a flimsy piece of paper. It means nothing until her virgin blood has been spilled.”
“She’s not here at the moment, and most likely won’t return any time soon. Not as long as she has a husband who would rather not touch her and who uses his own hand for pleasure instead of using his perfectly willing wife.”
I am not supposed to be attracted to my wife. To find her intelligent, kind-hearted, brave, fascinating. Most of all, I’m not supposed to like her and enjoy her company.
