Page 64 of His Bride

She coughsverydeliberately. “Classy,” she retorts, fanning away the lingering smoke.

“Well,” I lean back, taking another drag from my cigarette, “I've never claimed to be anything else.”

“You were saying something about divorce papers?”

“No. I was saying something about you panting for my cock.”

She crosses her arms. “You were toying with me just like you’re doing now.”

“I played around with you, yes. But just because you were being…unreasonable.”

“Pot and kettle hang out and discuss their blackness.”

“My kettle’s a rose red, courtesy of my mother. Pots are stainless steel and copper.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re stubborn. We both have our faults.”

“Some more than others.”

I smirk, then lift the lid on the smaller plate nearest me. Salad, I think. I really have no idea what I ordered.

I tip it over, use the dome as an ashtray, and sip my drink before pouring a little more, mainly because I can. “Here’s the thing, love, and you need to listen to me real closely.”

“Do I have a choice?”

I shrug. “Everyone does.”

“Until they don’t.”

“Now, that’s different territory, isn’t it? Eat some bread, some salad. Whatever the fuck else I ordered. I think I ordered duck for you.”

“I don’t want duck.”

“Then eat my fucking steak. Rare.” I take another drag. “Jesus, you’re hard fucking work.”

“Sign the papers. Then you’ll be rid of me.”

See? That, right there, is the problem with her. She’s frustrating, annoying, all the negatives rolled into something I can’t resist. Something that gets under my skin and infects me. Because that’s what she is, a thing there’s no cure for. A thing I lust after even when I know I shouldn’t. And she’s unexpectedly soft,sweet as she is sharp and funny. She gets me. And we ignite each other.

I should walk the fuck away.

And really, I was. I was going to do that.

“I’m afraid your papers are a little…stained.” I stub out the cigarette.

“Because of you.”

“There was an itch. It needed to be scratched.”

“Well, scratch it somewhere else.”

“I would, love. But it’s real fucking boring without you.”

Her gaze is locked on mine for a moment, the tension starting to crackle again.

Finally, she sits, opens the lids of the dishes, and then, using the two unfolded napkins, picks up both the duck and the steak and puts them in front of her, then takes the cutlery.

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