A Little Bit Married

Possessive

I blinked, then slowly turned away, my chest heaving. We fell into silence again, and I closed my eyes, an issue that had gnawed at me ever since the other day at his office resurfacing.

Not now when I looked like a princess. Not now when he could very well look like my prince. I turned to him, and he was already watching me, his eyes thin.

I swallowed hard, trying my best not to seem cowardly by looking away. "That was... a drastic measure just to assure me that there were no other women when our marriage was just... a sham."

He raised a brow, then turned away. "I am not going to go over this with you, Angeline."

"Then who would you want to offer explanations to? The woman who has your son?"

I expected a reaction, something, but his brow only twitched slightly, and he leaned back, resting his head.

"Eavesdropping, are we, Evangeline?"

"I just happened to hear it."

"And you never asked for an explanation."

"I never believed I was entitled to one."

"Then why are you asking now?"

My eyes closed, and I turned to my right, my eyes focusing blankly on the passing sights. It's because I am a fool. Because between kissing him on those sheets and the way he had hugged me after I cried, I had come to hold this marriage as more than an arrangement I agreed to at gun point.

"You do deserve an explanation, Angeline. You are my wife, and this is not some sort of past that can be swept under a rug."

My lips pursed, and I gave a small sigh, my chest heaving as I tried to contain the emotions I felt.

"But maybe after the party," he said slowly, his voice low. "You can demand an explanation after the party, and I will give it to you."

I nodded, then settled back in. "I am sorry for..."

"Oh, please, Angeline. You are such a kill joy."

I turned to him, and he looked amused, his brows lifted, his eyes light. I bit down on my lips, then sighed as I leaned back.

"What are you going to do about your phone?"

He shrugged. "They are not so hard to find."

"You could have just turned it off."

"I could have just asked you to marry me instead of putting a gun to your head."

He met my eyes, and I gave him a look. "I would have refused, vehemently."

He gave a chuckle. "And now?" He blinked slowly and leaned closer till I could feel his breaths on me, his eyes dark. "Would you marry me if I asked?"

"No. You are the sort of guy who would throw me right in traffic once I make a mistake. "

He broke into a hearty laugh, his hand subconsciously resting on mine. I watched him as he laughed, his eyes thin and filled with light and humour, his sharp canines exposed, a small dimple pushed in.

He was beautiful.

"You are funny," he said, shaking his head. "I wouldn't do that with you."

"I am finding it hard to believe you have reasons not to."

"Of course, I have reasons," he said with a laugh. "Phones can and will be found in every retail store around. Everywhere. My Angeline can not."

I felt my heart skip a beat, my chest heaving as I turned to him. He was watching me pointedly, his eyes intense, a smile still playing on his lips.

Before I could say something, we turned into the hotel entrance, and I used it as a distraction. Am opportunity to not have to think of what to say.

"I do hope you remember that I own your first dance."

"As if I would want to dance with random men around my husband."

He chuckled. "Why wouldn't you?"

"So random women don't get to dance with my husband."

He went silent, and I kept my gaze away from him, even as the car came to a gradual stop. He chuckled once we were in front of the fountain, his voice low.

"I do like my women possessive."

I wanted to protest, but the odds were not in my favour. Not only have I, countless times, made jealous insinuations about other women getting to my rather unconventional husband, I have even asked him to stay away from home one more night.

The doors opened, and Gray walked out, and I watched as he came around to me. He was ethereal and held the sort of charisma that I could only dream of. Maybe it came with being stinking rich like Gray was, or maybe it came exclusively, with being born as Gray Gavin.

"May I, sweetheart?"

Fuck, yes, you can.