Page 6 of Revealed

“My apologies for interrupting, ladies, but Mr. Rose wouldlike to meet with you, Francesca. In his office,” he explains in that deep timbre.

The way my name rolls off his tongue causes goosebumps to raise on my arms. I know getting involved with someone on Ashton’s staff is extremely dangerous, but I can’t help but wonder. Especially after experiencing the chemistry between us last night.

“Oh, of course. Give me a moment to get dressed and you can show me where his office is,” I say, making my way into my large walk-in closet.

I shimmy into the light wash jeans I’ve decided to pair with my hot pink and green crew neck sweater. The entire time, my focus remains on the exchange happening outside my closet door.

“And once she is done with Mr. Rose, do you mind escorting her to the kitchen?” Kathy asks politely.

“Of course I don’t, Ms. Kathy.” Michael is light, almost playful, highlighting that Louisiana accent.

Kathy’s response is low, but I still catch it. “You’re far too good for this place, Michael.”

“Aww you know I can raise hell with the best of them.”

The two share a laugh as I step out of the closet. Kathy leaves my bedroom, and I’m greeted by the softer version of the devious smile Michael gave me last night.

“Ready,” I announce.

Michael’s eyes trail up and down my body now that we are alone, and the heat is just the same as when I stood before him in my dressing robe. Neither of us should be giving the other this much attention, but the pull feels too magnetic to resist.

“Right this way, Princess.”

He smirks as I pass by, rolling my eyes, but as I step in the hall, I’m fighting the urge to smile.

I’m not sure why I believed Ashton and I would be able to work together through this marriage. A man like him doesn’t share power or even the illusion of power with someone he deems beneath him. That much has been made crystal clear. Michael walked me to the main study of the mansion for my meeting and before I entered the office he warned me not to sit or speak until Ashton had acknowledged me. It was a weird suggestion, but I’m still learning how things operate around here, so I took the advice.

Twenty minutes have passed as I stand here watching him ignore my presence. It’s been just enough time to kill any easy cooperation I would’ve shown for the sake of a partnership. Fuck this man.

“Have a seat.” Ashton’s tone comes out sharp and dismissive. He barely looks up from his work. It’s clear he’d rather be doing anything else other than having a conversation with me. The feeling is so fucking mutual. “This won’t take long. I have far more important work to get through.”

“Heaven forbid I keep you from the money and murders of the day,” I say sarcastically, flopping down into the seat cushion.

His jaw clenches as his eyes narrow in on my face. Ashton Rose is definitely far more imposing in the daytime without the shadows of night hiding who he is. I refuse to cower or show any fear without him giving me a reason to. Here’s hoping that my bodyguard was right about holding onto my fiery spirit.

Ashton releases a deep sigh, taking his glasses off and casually tossing them atop his desk. “You have one purpose here. Give me my heir. After that I won’t have a need to touch, let alone speak with you, again.”

I keep the shock of how dry and clinical his words are off my face, grabbing hold to the fact that this is my time to clutch the strings of fate.

“One child. That’s all.” I state the demand without room for reproach. “I won’t put my body through that trauma more than once.”

“One is all I need. I won’t stand for children bickering over who will take over. Everything that I am will be passed on to whatever gender you bring into this world. You just make sure you don’t get in the way of that.” He delivers that last line in warning.

How progressive. Little does he know I have no plans for children. I can push a baby out and wipe my hands of this entire situation for all I care.

“We can coexist, and I promise not to interfere with your business or the training of your seed, but I will hold you to not touching me again,” I say, fully buying into the delusion that I actually have a say. “Once I’m pregnant, we don’t even have to speak to each other.”

“I prefer hookers, anyway. They know exactly what I want and don’t expect love,” he snarls, looking at me as though I don’t meet his standards. As if I didn’t see his expression after he raised my veil last night.

“And if I want to take companions for my needs?” I ask, poking the bear.

Like the man you’ve assigned to my head of security.

His eyes narrow in assessment of my question. “Don’t embarrass me, Francesca.”

That response comes through clenched teeth. My name on his tongue sounds like nails on a chalkboard. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over, since we have foundcommon ground in this sham of a marriage. I stand with a sharp smile on my face and turn to leave the room.

I respond over my shoulder, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”