Page 96 of House of Soot

"Basic training for any Mob boss's son." My voice comes out clipped.

She tilts her head, red curls bouncing. "And here I thought you might have learned for fun." Is she poking at me?

"Nothing about this is fun." The words slip out before I can stop them.

Her smile doesn't falter, though something flickers in those green eyes. "It could be, if you'd let it."

I focus on a point over her shoulder, counting steps. One-two-three, one-two-three. Anything to avoid looking at her directly. The scent of her perfume, something light and floral, threatens to break my concentration.

"You know, most men would be celebrating the partnership this marriage brings."

"I'm not most men."

"Clearly. But you could try being less… rigid." Her thumb traces a small circle on my shoulder. The intimate touch sends unwanted heat through my body.

I tighten my grip on her waist, stopping her movement. "Don't."

"Don't what? Try to connect with my husband?"

"This is a business arrangement. Nothing more."

She laughs, a bright, musical sound that draws too much attention. But as I watch her, I sense she’s not really amused. It’s more like she’s putting on a show, wanting others to think we’re getting along. Is it for her father? For my brothers? Or for herselfso she doesn’t have to feel like she’s a commodity her father just sold to my brother?

“I know this isn’t what either of us wanted, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to make it work.”

The song ends, and I step back, dropping my hands like her touch burns. “I won’t hurt you. You can do whatever the fuck you want. But this marriage is in name only. It means nothing except for the alliance between our families.”

Without another word, I turn and walk away, leaving my new bride alone on the dance floor.

I drink too much, but luckily for me and this alliance, I hold my liquor well. Unfortunately, it’s not working to sooth away guilt and pain at betraying my one true love.

Finally, it’s time to go. Hannah and I leave. I’m forced to bring her to the honeymoon suite of the hotel her father owns.

Once inside, I loosen my tie and grab a pillow from the bed, heading for the couch across the suite. The leather cushions aren't ideal, but they're better than lying next to Hannah and fighting the pull she has on me.

"What are you doing?" Hannah exits from the bathroom where she’d gone to do whatever women do.

"Getting ready for bed." I don't turn around, focusing on arranging the pillow.

"On the couch? That's ridiculous. The bed is huge."

"I told you how this was going to be. I’m not going to fuck you.” I’m an asshole, I know, but I’m holding on by a thread. My heart is tearing up.

“Okay. But that doesn’t mean you have to sleep on the couch.” She steps between me and the couch, forcing me to look at her. The silk of her nightgown catches the low light, and my mouth goes dry. Fucking hell, she’s like a wet dream come to life, both angelic and sexy all at once.

"I understand that you don’t love me or find me attractive.”

Jesus, if she only knew the truth. It’s this attraction that requires me to avoid her. It’s not that I haven’t fucked in the last ten years. Mostly, I watch porn and jerk off. But on occasion, I’ve had a woman. A woman who didn’t make me feel anything except the pop of an orgasm.

But Hannah… something about her tugs at something inside me.

She reaches for my hand, and I let her take it, even though I shouldn't. She leads me to bed. “We can just sleep, Ash. Nothing more."

She’s like a Svengali. I find myself lying down on the bed. The mattress dips as Hannah settles in beside me, and every nerve in my body ignites. Part of me wants to give in, to let her chase away the shadows that have haunted me for ten years. But Meghan's face flashes through my mind, and guilt slashes through my heart.

“Good night.” She gives me a sweet smile and then turns away from me. Her breathing evens out, soft and rhythmic in the darkness. She's close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from her body, though we're not touching.

I stare at the ceiling, hyper-aware of every small movement she makes, the rustle of sheets as she shifts.

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