Page 38 of Bartered Innocence

“Can you hand me my shampoo?”

I give her the bottle, frowning at her expression. “What’s wrong?”

Isabelle is quiet for a few moments as she washes her hair, only glancing at me when I turn on the other shower head. It’s not one I’ve used before, but I have a feeling she doesn’t want to share just yet.

“Seeing full bottles of the brands I use is just a reminder that this isn’t a real relationship, but a well executed plan. I’d forgotten for a moment.”

My fists clench and I grab the body wash, lathering down my body in quick jerks. “This is real, Isabelle. Our marriage is real. What you make of it going forward is on you.”

She rolls her eyes before we return to finishing our shower in silence. I can’t help but smile when I see her watching me wash my cock and a light flush stains her cheeks. Once we’re both done, I hand her a towel and walk into our large closet after drying off. At my request, Deirdre hung most of her clothes on the empty side, and Isabelle follows me a moment later.

My eyes snag on a familiar shirt, and I grin wider. “You kept it?”

Her gaze follows mine and she yanks the shirt from the hanger, tossing it to me. The shirt she wore while she fled my apartment. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

I catch it with a smile and pull it over my head. She rolls her eyes and gives me her back, not acknowledging me further.

As we get dressed, she’s still silent, though I know she feels my eyes on her. Isabelle is the type of beauty you don’t easily forget. Not a woman who strikes you at first glance, but one that transforms the longer you stare. The soft, gentle nature of her face in contrast with her vibrant and expressive eyes, the curves she keeps hidden under loose jeans and sweaters. The silky, dark hair that she throws up in a bun or ponytail. I prefer her fresh face, but put some makeup on her and she’s so stunning I lose my breath.

“You want a tour?”

I don’t have time to waste with the information Sebastian gave us, but I can’t pull myself away from her just yet. I only managed to step away after our wedding because my pride fueled me as much as my anger, and the need to hunt Sebastian gave me the strength to leave her satisfied and sated.

Isabelle glances at me, brushing the last section of her damp hair and shrugs. “Does it include coffee and some food?”

A smile lifts at my lips. “It can.”

“I guess, might as well get comfortable in my gilded cage.”

My annoyance spikes, but I keep my composure. “That’s the spirit. I love the enthusiasm.”

She flips me off and slides into a pair of slippers. I’ve cut off men’s fingers for being that disrespectful, but something about my little wife doing it, I find amusing. I offer my hand and she stares incredulously before brushing past me. My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I watch her walk in front me. The soft leggings that cup her ass have my cock hardening. She pauses at the top of the stairs, turning to face me, and I drag my eyes up to hers.

Isabelle arches an eyebrow, but the flushing of her neck and cheeks gives her away. She likes that I admire her body. She probably likes how it affects me as well.

Nodding for her to continue down the stairs, she frowns and glances over the hallway leading to the other wing of the house.

“This is our wing, Isabelle. Everything on the other side doesn’t concern you,” I tell her. I could have softened my words, but I have no other explanation of why I want to keep her away from my father's rooms besides I don’t fully trust her yet. Either way the conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant.

She scowls at me. “Our wing. Do you know how pretentious that makes you sound? Most homes don’t even have second floors and you’re dividing the house into separate wings.”

Ignoring her comment, I lead her to the kitchen first. Deirdre looks up as I enter. She wipes her hands on her apron and rushes to me, kissing my cheeks. “Congrats, my boy. I can’t wait for this house to be filled with babies.” Peeking over my shoulder, Isabelle looks away from us. I clear my throat and step aside to introduce my wife.

“Isabelle, this is Deirdre. She runs the house, we just live in it. Anything you need, ask her.”

Deirdre doesn’t hesitate to rush to Isabelle and kiss her cheeks too, before pulling her into a hug. Isabelle looks up at me, startled by the affection.

“Finally, another woman of the house. We’ve been waiting for the day, my dear.”

“Um. Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” Her furrowed eyebrows give away her confusion and I suspect she didn’t think anyone would be so welcoming. “I…” She trails off and her eyes widen as she takes in the kitchen. Isabelle’s mouth opens in stunned awe and she walks away from both of us. Her fingers drag along the granite surface of the large island before she reaches up, touching the hanging stainless steel pots and pans.

Deirdre smiles as Isabelle continues to completely ignore us and rummages through the cabinets.

“Oh my god,” she whispers and spins to face me. “I think I’m in love with your kitchen.”

My eyebrow raises. “Just my kitchen?”

“You have things I’ve dreamed of owning, but it’s not worth the cost to the restaurant when seldom used. And we couldn’t really afford it at home either,” she says with a frown, looking back at one cabinet full of appliances.

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