Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(29)

She looked me up and down, her cold eyes noting my extreme bedhead and equally extreme nakedness. They’d chilled even further after landing on the bling on my finger. She’d obviously found me extremely wanting. Lachlan had performed the introductions his voice quivering with amusement which had made the situation worse, and I knew I’d made an enemy.

My first week at the house, I’d made many attempts to break through her icy attitude. She obviously adored Lachlan—and he seemed to think the world of her, seeing as he’d employed her for so many years—and so I’d thought it would be a matter of measuring up, of proving I was good enough for “her Lachlan.”

But as soon as Lachlan was away, she’d dropped the names of his previous conquests—all men with money and status—and it became clear she thought me a sadly lacking husband for her darling.

She’d viewed my bungling attempts to make a home for Lachlan with disdain. When I cooked for him, she made noises about the mess and cooked him something else. When I painted our bedroom a cheerful yellow, she’d gleefully proclaimed it was Lachlan’s least favourite colour and arranged for a painter to redo it the next day. Lachlan never knew.

He’d assumed I’d slotted into his life easily, no change in the clockwork gears that Mrs Ward and Elliott, his assistant, ensure are always well-oiled and smooth-running, like polite automatons manufactured for his convenience.

Mrs Ward smiles at me. “He’s with Elliott. He’s helping him to pack.” Satisfied at giving me the bad news, she glides away like a crocodile in an apron.

At the thought of Lachlan’s assistant, I roll my eyes. Another one who’s in love with my husband. But then who am I to throw shade when I’m in the same club? I was probably on the way to loving Lachlan before we got married, but it’s a done deal now after seeing glimpses into the man he is under the worldly exterior—the man who likes standing naked in the kitchen and eating a midnight snack after sex, who has a deep lusty laugh, and who’s an absolute soft touch for the charity ads on TV. They’re small glimpses and then he’s gone again, turning into the businessman who’s away on yet another work trip leaving me isolated in his expensive house like Rapunzel, if she’d had unfriendly staff too.

I brighten a little. But we’ve got this weekend together. I have a rare few days off and he’d promised we’d go away. We’re staying in a hotel of his choice which means it’ll be hideously expensive, and it’s going to be just us. No dinner parties, no work calls. Just us. Maybe I can reach him then. I believe in working hard at marriage, so I can’t give up.

I spring up and take the stairs quickly, heading for our bedroom. This is at the back of the house and it’s a huge suite with a dressing room for each of us. We even have an area with sofas in case we’ve been made tired by traveling the huge floorspace and need a rest. That area is actually bigger than my flat.

I hear Elliott’s voice before I get to the door and the sound of Lachlan’s laughter. I come into the room quickly and blink. They’re standing close together next to a half-packed suitcase. Elliott is holding several ties and looking adoringly up at my husband while he deliberates his choices.

They both look up as I come in. Out of Lachlan’s sight, Elliott glares at me, but my husband smiles warmly at me, his eyes sparkling. “Joe,” he says simply, and I smile helplessly back.

Then the neckties register. Why the fuck does he need ties when he’d stated his intention of keeping me in bed the entire weekend?

“What are you doing?” I demand.

His smile falters and then his expression shutters, as usual. It’s like he’s pleased to see me but then wants to push me away.

“I’ve had an unexpected work trip come up.”

“What? But we had plans.” I can’t hide my disappointment.

Elliott smirks as he moves around, picking up shirts from the bed. “This one?” he asks Lachlan.

I’m gratified when Lachlan ignores him. “I’m sorry,” he says to me. “I know we were going to do something.”

My eyes narrow. He obviously can’t remember our plans, and just like that, my optimism dies. I’d thought he was looking forward to it being just us. “I can’t get out of this,” he says quickly as he looks at my expression. “I’m so sorry.”

The thing is I don’t think he is sorry. I think he wants to be away from me. Because the truth is he doesn’t really want to be with me once we’re off his mattress. And as I acknowledge what’s been in my heart for ages my temper snaps.

“Well, that’s just not good enough, is it?”

He gapes at me as if he’s never seen me before. “What?”

“It’s. Not. Good. Enough,” I enunciate slowly and his eyes narrow. I’d be willing to lay odds that no one ever talks to him like this.

Nevertheless, he turns and smiles at Elliott. “Can you leave us, please?”

The glances they exchange give me a funny ache in my stomach. They know each other so well, and it’s me who feels like an interloper in my own bedroom.

Elliott stirs. “Of course, Lachlan,” he purrs.

“Go to my study and gather the Phillips papers.”

“Of course.”

He sidles out of the room, throwing me a spiteful glance that Lachlan doesn’t notice. Lachlan’s gaze is fixed on me, brow furrowed, hands awkwardly gripping the shirt Elliott had handed him.