Page 33 of Caged in Desire
“And who is this?” the woman with the higher-pitched voice, Melissa, asks.
Henry smiles down at me. “This is my wife—”
“Mrs. Sinclair.” I interrupt, holding out my hand. Henry raises an eyebrow and smirks. My introduction clearly amuses him, but he doesn’t say anything.
Each woman shakes my hand and introduces themselves. Not knowing I was eavesdropping on their previous conversation, they recount their relationship with Henry as “old friends,” and to my dismay, he doesn’t correct that when they leave.
Whatever resolve I felt during the ceremony is gone as Henry leads me to the dance floor, and by the time I’m in his arms, I’m fighting tears.
My husband immediately senses my change in demeanor, something I would typically find charming, if not for my current emotional crisis. “Kitten, what’s wrong?” he asks, his tone gentle.
“I’m just not feeling well tonight,” I say, placing my head on his chest so he can’t see the tears welling up in my eyes. “I just want to go home.”
“Let’s go home then.”
He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t ask if I can make it a little longer. He doesn’t protest that this ishisgala and he shouldn’tbe leaving this early in the night. He just leads me to the exit and helps me into the car.
The ride home is quiet, especially after I pulled my hand away when Henry tried to hold it. He patted my thigh and apologized that I wasn’t feeling well. He hasn’t tried to touch me since.
He’s been perfect, actually. The entire night, he’s been nothing but attentive and caring. Flirting with me and complimenting me. Driving me insane with his touch. Taking care of me and putting my needs before anything else.
I shouldn’t be reacting like this to a silly conversation, but what I overheard was the last straw breaking through six weeks of emotions I haven’t been able to even understand fully, much less deal with.
The car is barely parked when I fling open the door, running to my room before he can follow. My youth is already a sore spot for him. I don’t need him to see me falling apart over his exes like a jealous, immature schoolgirl.
I’m on my bed crying my eyes out when I hear a knock on the door.
“Katarina? Are you okay, darling?” His voice is soft, but I can hear his concern.
I do my best to calm my crying so my voice doesn’t come out shaky. “I’m fine, Henry, just not feeling well.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
Yes, hold me. Kiss me. Take me back to your bed and make love to me.
“No, I’ll be fine, I promise. Good night, Henry.”
The door handle turns slightly, halted by the lock. “Good night, Kitten.”
Chapter seventeen
Tonight didn’t go as expected at all. I didn’t anticipate being back in my bedroom this early, and I halfway hoped that when I did get back, I wouldn’t be alone.
Thoughts of my beautiful wife cross my mind, and I’m tempted to walk down the hall and listen through her door for any signs of life for the fourth time tonight. Ultimately, I decide that she’s probably sound asleep.
She was a dream tonight, and the gown I chose made her look like the goddess she is. Even with her six-inch platform heels, she was a tiny little thing, still barely coming to my chest.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and though we don’t have an early morning, I need to be as well rested as possible to deal with my family. This is the first time in years we’ll all be together for the holiday. It’s my nephew LJ’s first, and Mom is planning on a big spread.
It’s not that I don’t want to see my family. I find myself missing them more lately than I ever have. But I’ve managed to keep Katarina to myself since we got married despite theirbegging. I know that tomorrow will be a lot for her, especially after whatever upset her today.
I had hoped she would ask to leave early, but I wanted it to be so I could bring her back into my bed and fucking ravish her. Not because she wasn’t feeling well. If I were any less of a man, I would’ve done it anyway. I would’ve thrown her over my shoulder before she could get out of the car and carried her to my room, even kicking and screaming.
This charade of ours has gone on long enough. As soon as we get through this weekend, I’m consummating my goddamn marriage. I just have to hold myself together a few more nights, and she’ll be beside me. For good.
A glance at the clock confirms I have more than enough time to read for a bit before bed. Sighing, I reach into my nightstand and grab my book and reading glasses, calculating how long I can read so I still get a solid eight hours of sleep. I might not have been planning to sleep much tonight, but since the opportunity is presenting itself, I’ll take advantage. I’ll need to get as much as I can now because once I get my hands on her…
I’ve barely had time to open my book when the creaking of my door opening catches my attention. The room is dimly lit from the lamp on my nightstand, but the vision at the entrance of my room is as clear as day.
