Resisting My Billionaire Husband

Chapter 6: You’re Nothing But A Horndog

“You’re nothing but a horndog.”

Andrea is a bit dizzy. The obscene words coming out of her mouth are a drastic contrast to her normally docile demeanor. It’s sensually thrilling.

Lance presses his lips together, “Don’t forget that it was you who drugged me and begged for me to love you. It was you who writhed underneath me. And after such an amorous night, this part…”

He trails his fingertips from her collarbone to her still smooth belly. His meaning can’t be clearer. Andrea shudders at the thought of having a child with Lance and shakes her head from right to left. She jabs her finger into his chest in protest, but Lance sees her movement as a flirtation.

He has given her plenty of leniency today, allowing her to invite the press and Leonie into his home, allowing her to publicly announce a divorce. He wants to see what Andrea has up her sleeve, but his patience is wearing thin.

He abruptly grabs her fumbling hands and presses them above her head before leaning down to kiss her. Her breath smells like wine and it makes him feel intoxicated. Andrea moans, feeling her temperature rise. It seems like the entire world has turned upside down.

She doesn’t want to kiss him, but her body betrays her and she squirms beneath him. Her sanity reminds her to fight back and she rocks her head from side to side. Lance takes this as a provocation and kisses her even more deeply.

Suddenly, her stomach starts to churn. She can’t bear the thought of Lance kissing her like this. From some place deep inside herself, she finds the strength to push Lance away. But she is not fast enough; the contents in her stomach suddenly rise and she vomits all over Lance before rushing out of the room.

In seconds Lance becomes gloomy and morose. Is kissing him really that revolting? He presses the bell on the bedside table and a young maid rushes in, out of breath, “Yes, Mr. Hamilton?”

“Clean it up,” he orders, “Including my wife.”

Then he walks straight to the bathroom. The young maid stares at Lance’s back and can’t help wondering how he manages to look elegant and handsome in such an unfortunate situation. Tearing her gaze away from Lance, the maid rushes after Andrea.

“Don’t mind me. Just change the sheets and I’ll go back to clean up,” Andrea says, suddenly sober.

She doesn’t feel the least bit guilty that she threw up on Lance. Instead, she’s amused; the look on his face was priceless. She returns to her room after ordering the maid back into Lance’s room. As she walks to her room, she reflects on her marriage. Lance hadn’t touched her once in the three years they’d been together. He hadn’t even allowed her to sleep in his bed. She’s sure that last night was an accident.

Lance’s personal maids find it odd that he slept with her as well. Though her memory is patchy because of the drug she’s been dosed with, she vaguely remembers a conversation between two of his maids.

“I heard that Mrs. Hamilton once tried to seduce Mr. Hamilton by climbing onto his bed, naked,” one maid had said, “But he kicked her off so viciously, she injured two ribs. She couldn’t get out of bed for months after that.”

“She was asking for it,” the other replied, “Everyone knows that Mr. Hamilton isn’t into that kind of thing.”

“But he did make love with her last night,” said the first, “I can’t believe it. Since when does Mr. Hamilton enjoy the company of women?”

“Hush. I heard it’s just because he was on Viagra. He can’t get hard for her without it. It’s just not possible. If he wasn’t into Andrea for the past three years, he wouldn’t suddenly throw himself at her last night.”

“Isn’t interested in making love with women?” Andrea thinks, “Ha!”

She sneers at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The maids clearly don’t know this new Lance: the new Lance wanted to make love again and again, the new Lance couldn’t take his hands off of her. She idly wonders if he somehow passed his revulsion for s*x to her. She used to yearn for him to touch her, but now the mere thought makes her nauseous. She doesn’t ever want him to touch her again.

“If some other woman wants him that way, she can have him,” Andrea thinks.

An image of Leonie casting seductive glances at Lance rises in Andrea’s memory.

As Andrea cleans herself in the bathroom, Leonie sits with Mrs. Hamilton in the quiet and tasteful east wing of the Hamilton mansion. The Hamilton residence consists of one main mansion situated on a large plot of land, but the family also owns dozens of other houses and condos of various sizes throughout the city. Even at the height of their power and prestige, the Summers family’s residence wasn’t half the size of the Hamilton mansion.

Ever since the Summers family began to lose money and prominence, it’s been Leonie’s responsibility to restore her family’s reputation. The easiest way to do that is to marry well, and there’s no better candidate than Lance. An alliance with the Hamilton family would do more than restore the Summers family’s status; it would elevate them to new heights.

It shouldn’t have been so difficult. Leonie grew up with Lance and everyone expected the two of them to marry. Andrea appeared out of nowhere, and her marriage to Lance surprised everyone.

“Leonie, what is it you were saying about Andrea pushing you down the stairs?” Mrs. Hamilton asks.

“It’s water under the bridge now, Mrs. Hamilton,” Leonie says coyly, “I understand if Andrea hates that I’m close with Lance. I’m fine now, and I really don’t want to dig it up again.”

“You really think she tried to harm you because you grew up with Lance? Leonie, you’re too kind to forgive her.”

“I know how Andrea must feel,” Leonie says, “After years of marriage Lance still doesn’t care for her at all. Given my history with Lance, she has every reason to be hostile to me.”

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with her behavior,” Mrs. Hamilton says, “But don’t trust the press. Lance is using this story about the pregnancy to try to hide the truth about Andrea—no one wants that to be publicized. You understand, right?”

Despite her age and gray hair, Mrs. Hamilton has a healthy ruddiness in her face. She talks to Leonie with great energy. Leonie sits next to the older woman and pours tea for the two of them. Her gestures are perfect and graceful, her every move reflecting her status and upbringing as an elegant woman. Mrs. Hamilton has known Leonie for her entire life and she sees in her the granddaughter-in-law she wishes she had.

“I know, Mrs. Hamilton,” Leonie replies, “Lance does what he has to do to protect the family name.”

“I’m glad you agree. You know you wouldn’t have to tolerate this terrible situation if it wasn’t for Lance’s grandfather,” Mrs. Hamilton says with a sigh, “That stubborn old man forced Lance to marry Andrea.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Hamilton,” Leonie says sadly, “Lance is out of my league.”

“Nonsense. You’re so much better than Andrea. I’ll tell Lance to ask for your parents’ permission to marry you soon after he divorces that horrible woman.”

Mrs. Hamilton sighs with frustration. Just when the divorce was finally going to occur, Lance had to interrupt it. She can’t read Lance’s mind, and she doesn’t fully understand why he behaved like that. She knows that Lance has always disliked Andrea and demanded that they sleep in separate rooms. She knows why Andrea still hasn’t gotten pregnant after three years of marriage.

Lance opposed the marriage three years ago. To persuade him, his grandfather had promised that he’d stop interfering with Lance’s personal life if he married Andrea. He also promised to end the marriage if she didn’t produce an heir within the first four years. Mrs. Hamilton overheard them agreeing to this as she carried tea to them one afternoon. She knows that if Lance refuses to sleep with Andrea, she can’t bear his children, and if Andrea can’t bear his children, he has to divorce her. She suspects that the pregnancy announcement is meant to be some sort of distraction for his grandfather.

“But Mr. Hamilton chose Andrea to marry Lance,” Leonie says, fighting to curb the wild hope she suddenly feels.

Mrs. Hamilton lowers her voice and whispers, “If she doesn’t get pregnant in six months, Lance’s grandfather will force them to get a divorce. He’s getting impatient for an heir. Even if Lance opposes the divorce, he’d have no choice but to obey his grandfather. The two of them made an agreement.”

“Really?” Leonie’s mood brightens. She smiles and enchanting dimples appear on her soft cheeks.

“Really!”

Mrs. Hamilton takes the tea that Leonie offers her and inhales deeply. The high-quality tea has been perfectly steeped. She takes a sip before speaking.

“I’ve asked the maids to prepare a guest room in the main house for you. Please make yourself at home and don’t worry about wasting your time with an old woman like me. I want you to focus on Lance. Rest assured, no one will dare to ask you to leave while you’re here as my guest.”

Leonie blushes and lowers her voice, “I appreciate it, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Hamilton replies. She sips her tea again and adds, “Lance asked you to come here and his intentions are clear. It’s only a matter of time. The room is ready and he knows where to find you. Don’t make him wait.”

“I knew he was one who sent that text,” Leonie says happily.

She can’t imagine why anyone else would have sent her the mysterious text asking her to come to the Hamilton residence. She has been waiting for this moment for almost four years, and she doesn’t want to lose another opportunity to marry Lance and save her family.