The Wrong Bride (The Windsors, #1)(66)

I nod and smile at him. “Don’t worry. I’m used to dealing with the press,” I tell him, even as genuine dread fills by body. I’ve been lucky so far, flying just below the radar on most days, but as the new Mrs. Windsor, those quiet days are most certainly gone.





Chapter Forty-One





Raven





I sigh as I turn my phone off. It hasn’t stopped buzzing since our announcement went live, and though the initial media attention was exciting, it quickly became exhausting. Most gossip pages started to look into our relationship instantly, but needless to say, they haven’t been able to find anything. How could they, when our relationship didn’t exist before our wedding day?

I’m worried that if they look hard enough, they’ll find traces of Hannah and Ares’s relationship, and there’s no doubt that it’ll be shameful for all three of us. I don’t want anyone to find out that this thing between us isn’t real.

I bite down on my lip as I rummage through our dressing room, needing a distraction. Ares walks out of the bathroom just as I fish my trusty old measuring tape out of one of my boxes. His eyes widen when he sees me bent over, on my hands and knees, and the way he bites down on his lip sends a rush of desire through me. He’s in nothing but a white towel that hangs low on his hips, drops of water running down his chest.

“Ares,” I say, my voice huskier than I wanted it to be. “Don’t get dressed.”

His eyes flash with desire, and he smiles wickedly.

I hold up my measuring tape and grin at him. “I want to measure you. I’ve got something in mind that I want to design for our first official event together.”

He lifts his hand to his neck, his gaze heated. “You want to measure me… right now?”

I nod. “Yeah. I prefer to get accurate measurements. It’s not quite the same over clothes, you know?”

“Fine.” He beckons me forward and I approach him nervously. I haven’t taken this much initiative since the last time I tried it. Every time we sleep together, it’s Ares who initiates it. It’s stupid, but part of me is still scared he’d reject me again. Realistically, I know he won’t, but somehow my heart hasn’t healed from the pain he inflicted.

“Lift your arms,” I tell him. My hands tremble as I wrap my measuring tape around his arm, barely thinking straight. I needed a distraction, and I suppose I got one.

I can feel his gaze burning on my skin and look up nervously to find him staring at me, his gaze heated. He’s sexy as sin on the worst of days, but right now, standing here in front of me in just a towel? Delicious.

I place my hand flat against his chest and smile at him. “Do you have any favorite colors?”

He reaches for me and pushes my hair behind my ear, his gaze dipping down to my chest, where it lingers. “Whatever you create for me will be amazing, I’m sure.”

I wrap my measuring tape across his torso and lean in close to read the measurement, brushing my body against his as I do so. Ares inhales sharply and clears his throat uncomfortably, making me smile.

“Oh, I forgot your neck.” I rise to my tiptoes and press my breasts against his chest as I wrap my measuring tape around his neck, my lips brushing over his jaw as I lean in. He groans softly, and a rush of desire rushes through me when I feel him harden against my stomach.

He raises his hand and threads it through my hair, tightening his grip and keeping me in place. “This is how you take measurements, wife?” he snaps, sounding angry.

I lean back a little to look at him and shake my head. “No. I never do this myself, but I wanted to for you.”

“Hmm,” he grunts. “Very well. No one but me, Raven.”

I nod nervously as I let my hand roam down his body. His face is so close to mine… should I give up on this charade and just kiss him? His eyes drop to my lips and I tilt my face, hoping he’ll make a move.

“What are you measuring next?” he asks.

I sigh and take a step away, refusing to be discouraged. “Thighs,” I tell him as I sink down to my knees in front of him.

I bite back a smile when I see the way his towel is tenting, all because I took some measurements. I look up at him, but he merely stares at me provocatively, without a hint of embarrassment.

I slide my measuring tape underneath his towel, moving it up under the pretence of measuring his upper thigh, purposely dislodging his towel in an attempt to make it fall off.

“Raven,” he warns.

I look up innocently. “Is something wrong?”

My hands move over his thighs, touching, teasing, as I pretend that I’m struggling to figure out how best to measure him. His hand moves to my hair just when his towel comes undone, falling to the floor as his cock is exposed, inches from my face. I lean in and bite down on my lip harshly, a thrill running down my spine.

Ares tightens his grip on my hair and forcibly tilts my head toward him. “What are you doing, wife?”

I smile up at him nervously. “Measuring you?”

“Is that all you’re doing?”

I glance at his hard cock and grin as I let go of my measuring tape. I lean toward his other thigh, making the tip of his cock brush against my lips as I do so. Ares grits his teeth as desire dances in his eyes, and I clench my thighs in anticipation. “Is there something else you’d rather make me do?”