CRUEL MARRIAGE (Cruel #6)

2. Katherine

2

Katherine

“No.” The word tumbled out of my mouth before I could think. Before I could even process what I was saying.

Camden coiled like a viper. He was dangerous, deadly even, when he looked at anyone like that. I should have feared that reaction, but I couldn’t respond any other way.

I knew that I’d agreed to this. That I’d said I’d have his child, his heir to the great Percy fortune. His family couldn’t hope for one from his sister, Candice. God only knew which continent she was on at this moment.

But even though I’d known, I’d agreed, I wasn’t ready. It wasn’t that I never wanted a baby. I just didn’t particularly care one way or another. I always thought that when I fell deeply, hopelessly in love, it would happen naturally from there. I’d want it. He’d want it. And together, we’d be happy. Not… this.

And now, blind panic.

I wasn’t ready to have a child. To be responsible twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for another human being. Of course, there were nannies and governesses and au pairs. All the wonderful things I’d grown up with so that my parents could f**k up my childhood past the point of repair. It was irresponsible to bring another child into this f****d up world. Especially one where the kid’s parents didn’t even like each other. I knew what that did to a kid.

“We should talk about this,” Camden growled, low and predatory.

I stood from my seat. “Table it.”

He opened his mouth to argue with me, but there must have been something in my expression to stop him dead, and halt whatever planned speech he’d likely concocted for this precise moment.

“Fine. We’ll take the limo,” he said.

Then his hand was on my elbow as he steered me out of the restaurant.

“Katherine,” he said as I exited the building.

I glanced back at him in question right when a camera flashed.

Oh. Of course. He’d wanted to warn me about the press. Had he tipped them off to let them know where we’d be? At least I’d turned to look at him. I probably looked like I adored him rather than like I wanted to bite his head off. That picture would be spread all over Page Six tomorrow.

“Anniversary quota fulfilled,” I said, beelining for the limo.

The driver was there, helping us into the back and angling the media out of our faces. Once we were safely inside, the door closed on the media circus. I sat back with a frown. This was my life. Anniversary dinner meant a newspaper appearance. Typical socialite bullshit.

I leaned over into Camden and held my phone out in front of me. “Smile.”

He didn’t, of course. But he shot the camera a devilish look. Good enough.

I filtered the image and blasted it all over my social network. f**k you, paparazzi. I didn’t have to abide by their rules. I would much rather post all of my own photographs than have them sell my image to the highest bidder.

I watched the numbers tick up on the post. The comment section was out of control with anniversary congratulations. It’d be a solid post. Too bad it relayed none of my actual anniversary sentiments.

“I don’t know why you bother with that,” he said.

“Part of my job.”

“Your job,” he said derisively.

“I’m not the first socialite you’ve met, Camden. You don’t have to be a little b***h about it.”

Camden just stared back at me. “You are in rare form tonight.”

“And you’re exactly the same as you always are,” I spat back.

Camden looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, he slid his phone out of his pocket and responded to emails. I was dismissed.

I blew out a soft breath and straightened out. Camden didn’t understand my socialite status. He didn’t think that it was a real job. He’d made that perfectly clear the last year. That taking pictures and adding filters and captions to them was not in any way a real job. But I enjoyed it, and I always had. Even when technology hadn’t been quite as convenient… or time-consuming. Keeping up with social media now was an all day, every day kind of job. No matter what he said.

I returned to my followers and answered some of the comments from people that I immediately recognized. Answering followers was easier than figuring out my marriage. I didn’t know what to do about Camden. I’d walked into that dinner with my hackles raised. I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it had… just as I’d assumed it would.

But before that… he hadn’t been so horrible. Maybe he’d even been trying to have a good night. That was the problem though. I didn’t ever know which Camden I was going to get when we were together. More often than not, he was the one in “rare form,” and I was the one left speechless and irritated. We were a hot mess.

If I wanted it to keep working—if I could even say it was working—then I was going to have to give a little tonight. Maybe if I let my guard down, then he’d drop the whole thing. Except that letting my guard down was the last thing I wanted. Not when I was used to getting stabbed in the back every time I let myself be vulnerable.

Eventually, the limo pulled up in front of Percy Tower, the flagship for the Percy hotel chain. Camden helped me out of the car and then silently guided me into the foyer. I never got tired of the beautiful, polished interior—the classic gilded look with marble floor and columns, all entranced with Christmas decorations and a floor-to-ceiling tree. We slipped through the crowded entrance filled with tourists here for the Christmas holiday, wanting to see the city at its finest.

It was both the best and worst time to be in New York. Christmas cheer was everywhere—from the tree at Rockefeller Center to the market along Central Park to Macy’s Believe sign to the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular and The Nutcracker to ice skating. It had been my favorite time of year while growing up. My birthday was New Year’s Eve—which was good and bad, depending on what age I was—and so the Christmas season always felt like the buildup to my birthday.

I remembered one year, when I was about twelve, my father had gotten a horse-drawn carriage ride through Central Park for the family that ended with hot chocolate and the Rockettes performing just for me at Bethesda Fountain. The memory ached now. As all of my memories of my father were tinged with grief, for what he’d done and who he’d become. But I’d been a daddy’s girl all my life and losing him had been a nightmare. Losing him and my brother’s disappearance and my mother’s utter denial all in the same week had been… too much.

I shook off the heavy memories that always came around Christmas and took the private elevator up to Camden’s penthouse.

Thankfully, there was nothing Christmassy in sight. Unlike me during my childhood, Camden abhorred Christmas. He was glad that we were leaving the city and missing the worst of it. I’d never found out why.

“Drink?” Camden asked as I slid my jacket off and hung it up in the closet.

“Bubbly?”

He nodded and reached into the wine fridge, retrieving a bottle of Moet & Chandon Rosé. Maybe he was trying to woo me tonight.

I took out the box of diamond earrings from my pocket and carried it over to the bar. “My favorite,” I said, taking the glass from him.

He poured himself a glass of scotch, neat. His eyes were on the box under my hand, watching me fiddle with the thing. But he said nothing. He was scariest when he was silent. His words sliced like knives, but his silence stretched like death by a thousand cuts.

Slowly, I set my half-empty champagne flute down and opened the box. I breathed out softly and then took out the pearl earrings I had been wearing, replacing them with the Harry Winston diamonds.

There. See. I was trying.

“What do you think?” I asked.

Camden took a step into my personal space. His hand cupped my jaw, holding me firmly in place. My heart stuttered at the command. For a fraction of a second, I’d forgotten how dominating he could be in one touch. How he could hold me like I was breakable and then enjoy watching me shatter.

He gently turned my head to one side, exposing the long column of my neck to him. I swallowed, telling myself that I didn’t want this, nor did I fear it. I didn’t know how much I lied to myself.

He moved me the other direction, examining the diamonds, controlling me with ease. I loved and hated how effortlessly he did it.

“They suit you,” he said, turning my head back to look at him. “As I knew they would.”

“You really picked them with me in mind?” I kept my voice low and silky. I hadn’t believed him when he first said it. But now… maybe.

“I’ve always been a man of action,” he said evenly. “I say what I mean with what I do.”

It should have been reassuring. Instead, it felt like a gut punch. I knew the actions he’d performed. I knew what he’d done. And they hurt worse than words ever could. I took a breath. I wasn’t here to argue. I didn’t want to deal with another argument with him tonight. I just wanted to… not for one evening with him. Neither of us was going to move on from the past. But I’d rather be talking about this than what we’d been discussing back at the restaurant.

“Why don’t we go for a swim?” I suggested.

“It’s December.”

“And? You have a hot tub.”

“You want to get into the hot tub?” he asked incredulously.

“Is it on?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

I stepped around him, plucked the champagne bottle out of the ice bucket, and headed toward the frigid night beyond.

“You know it might snow tonight, right?”

My hand slipped down the side zipper of my dress. I let the skintight dress slowly fall off of my shoulders and down around my hips. I heard his sharp intake of breath. At least he was predictable in that way. If nothing else.

I set the champagne down on the edge of the hot tub, shivering in the wind and cold. I hastily shimmied out of the rest of my dress, leaving me in nothing but a La Perla black silk thong and matching bustier. I was pretty sure Camden was going to owe me a new set. I sank down to my neck, taking pleasure in the heat.

Then Camden appeared in nothing but his black silk boxers. We matched. I would have laughed, but the heat in his eyes was enough to let it die on my lips. He looked… like a god. A Greek god leaving the trappings of Olympus to feast among and upon mortals. His dark hair was slicked back. His strong jawline cut like a razor. The six-pack that ended at the Adonis lines that made a perfect V, low, low, lower to what was hidden by a scrap of silk.

My mouth went dry.

I hated that I wanted him. I hated that we were so messed up. I hated that we were too proud to say any of that.

Camden stepped into the hot tub and sat on a bench in the water. He put his arms up on the edge of the pool. He watched me and waited. I sipped champagne, pretending to ignore him, but his gaze lingered. I determinedly sipped more champagne. I was definitely a little drunk now. I had to be to have even suggested this.

“Is this a game, too?” he finally asked.

I sighed. “It’s not a game.”

“I know you, Katherine. Everything is a game. And I thought that I’d made myself clear that I didn’t want to be involved in your games any longer.”

“If you think that’s what this is, then why are you in this hot tub with me?”

His gaze turned lethal and heated. I could see through the water that my nearly naked presence had the desired effect on him. I knew why he was here.

“My wife is walking around in nothing but lingerie, and I’m expected to stay inside?” he asked.

I finished off my glass of champagne and then slid through the water to stand before him. I moved to straddle him, but his hands reached out and gripped my hip—hard.

“Uh-uh,” he said, holding me in place. He ran circles along my hip bone.

“You don’t want me?”

I knew that wasn’t the problem. Camden had to be in charge. At all times. For all things.

He guided me forward, setting me down on top of him. His c**k jutted up against my thin underwear. I fought to keep my face neutral, but I didn’t think that I’d succeeded. Half of me wanted to tear our last bits of clothing off and let him f**k me bare against the side of this hot tub. And the other half of me wanted to slap him across the face for his need for dominance.

“Would you like to know a secret?” He held me firm and moved his lips to my ear. “You, my darling wife, want me.”

It was a secret. One I never let anyone know. Not even my closest friends. Because Camden Percy was a means to an end. He was the man I’d married for money. He didn’t love me. I didn’t love him. Nothing in this world or any other could change that. But… I did want him.

“And you can’t have me,” he said, pushing me backward in the water.