Page 40 of Misrule
“Hey, sugar,” she answered. The keen disappointment, so clear on her face, appeased Knox. Pausing, she listened then laughed and went silent again, nodding although her daughter couldn’t see her. Roxanne was so expressive. “Okay, I’ll send him down,” she said after another moment.
Huffing out an annoyed breath, Knox stomped to the closet and found a pair of jeans and a thermal shirt. Instead of ruining another pair of shoes, he grabbed old running shoes. After snatching a pair of socks from the drawer, he pulled on his jeans than sat on the edge of the bed.
“You’re kilting it, hmmm?” she asked as he pulled the first sock on.
“Kilting it?” He glanced over his shoulder and took his fill of her still-nude body. The incision on her stomach went from hip-to-hip. He tried not to focus on it too much, tried not to imagine the pain she must’ve been in when she’d had the surgery to remove fat from her stomach to reconstruct her breasts after her mastectomy. She was so brave. Such a fighter.
“What do you mean by kilting it?” he asked, realizing his mind had strayed.
“No underwear.”
He finished putting on his socks and running shoes, and stood. “Ah,” he responded. “Didn’t see the need, sweetheart. I’m just returning to the club and going to my lonely bed. You know the one? It’s missing my beautiful queen.”
She smiled at him and stepped into his arms. “You have a silver tongue, sir.”
He brushed his lips across hers. “I’d say it was golden.”
“I’d have to agree with you.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she welcomed his kiss. “You have to leave,” she said breathlessly a few moments later.
He nodded and sighed. Going to where his trousers lay ruined in one of the bathroom floor puddles, he got his wallet and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans.
“I wish you’d consent to allow me to hire a maid for you.”
“I don’t need a maid, Knox,” she said firmly.
“When we’re married and move into our own house, you will. It’ll be too big for you to keep up by yourself.”
“What do I need a mansion for? I’ve already lived in one and I didn’t enjoy it after a while.”
That’s right. Duke’s father was “wealthy”. Knox bet he couldn’t touch the Harrington wealth.
“Besides, I was hoping we could live here.”
He looked around the room in an exaggerated manner. “You’re joking, right?”
“Notherein this place.Hereon the grounds.”
“Oh. Well, I have no problem with that.”
She beamed a smile.
“It’s the least I can do for you. You didn’t push me to buy an expensive engagement ring, just because I can afford it. You don’t hassle me for money. Or to go shopping. You’re a truly independent woman, earning her way in life by helping her daughter out.”
Her smile slipped away. “We’ve been through this before. You have access to my bank accounts—”
“You have access to mine, too,” he cut in. “It doesn’t matter, baby. Most of the money from your divorce settlements are tied up in retirement accounts. The property you own in New Orleans just brings you several thousand dollars a month. Let’s be real, your money can’t compare to mine. It would be easy to assume my money was what attracted you to me.”
“Fuck you,” she snarled. “Take your fucking money and shove it the fuck up your dick. It doesn’t matter if my fucking money compares to yours. It’s my fucking money and is enough to sustain me. Stop being such an uppity, dumb motherfucker, Knox. Money don’t make a man. What’s in your heart and soul does. Right now? Plain fucking bullshit is in both places.”
“If my money makes you so uncomfortable, you have the problem, not me. The things you want me to have? A tattoo and a bike? That will never happen, unless I’m fucking desperate. Arrogant I may be, but desperate? Never!”
“What the fuck does a fucking tattoo and motorcycle have to do with the fact that you need to shove your fucking money up your goddamn ass?”
“You said you like tattoos and bikes. I don’t have either of those, but at least I have money. You’ll live in luxury.”
“I don’t give a fuck if you ever get a tattoo. I know a bike is out of the question because you’d have to learn to ride and that’s not your thing. When I want to go for a spin, Mort, Digger, or even Outlaw will be happy to take me.”
Any of the other bikers she knew would, too. Knox really, really didn’t like that, but he’d put his foot in his mouth enough, so he stayed quiet. And he’d definitely not bring up the prenuptial agreement at this particular time.
