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She gazed longingly at her husband, wanting to push an errant brown strand off his forehead. He was so handsome when he was relaxed and smiling. She found men who showed their teeth while smiling quite appealing. However, she knew that deception could lurk behind a brilliant set of teeth.
She felt like she could let her guard down in the relaxed atmosphere. Since returning home, Drake had remained attentive. And while there was no further physical intimacy between them, they seemed to be on the right path.
They drifted closer on the sofa to the point their knees almost touched. All the cues were there, and Alessandra thought Drake would kiss her at any moment. She shifted to open her body up, signaling that she was willing to follow his lead. He moved his hand from the back of the sofa to caress her bare shoulder where her robe had slipped. His lips drew so close that his breath tickled her lips. She shivered with anticipation and puckered her lips.
The doorbell rang, interrupting the moment. Assuming it was the takeout they’d ordered, Alessandra offered to answer the door. It wasn’t a delivery but a striking, well-dressed woman with sleek blonde hair.
“I’d like to see my husband.”
The air escaped Alessandra’s lungs. She’d forgotten how to breathe.Husband?
She was staring into the cold ice-blue eyes of Riley, Drake’s ex-fiancée. It pained Alessandra to admit the other woman was stunning in a black plaid tweed jacket and skirt.
Riley was everything Alessandra wasn’t. She was tall and sophisticated, carrying herself like a true socialite. Of course, a handsome, rich man like Drake wouldn’t date anyone less than supermodel worthy.
Alessandra felt self-conscious around the woman who moved with such a dignified presence. Standing at 5’4”, she carried a few extra pounds on her hourglass frame that concentrated in her breasts and hips, while Riley towered half a foot over Alessandra in her stilettos.
“Who’s at the door?” Drake called from the living room.
Upon hearing Drake’s voice, Riley tilted her head and walked past Alessandra while giving her a disapproving glance. Her heels clicked against the hardwood, and Alessandra trudged behind her in bare feet.
“Well, if this isn’t a cozy picture,” Riley quipped. “Who the hell is this tramp, and why is she wearing my underwear, Drake?”
Alessandra had replaced the lacy panties Drake ruined the morning after their wedding. Tonight, she wore a pink lacy baby doll with matching panties. The only part of her lingerie that belonged to Riley was the robe.
Drake jumped off the couch and quickly closed and tied the red silk robe, concealing the matching boxers. He crossed his arms as his eyes darkened.
“Riley? What are you doing here?” He clenched his jaw.
“Hello to you too, darling.” She finger-waved. “Now, are you ready to answer my question? How about you dismiss the maid so we can have a private conversation.”
Alessandra stepped next to Drake and flashed her diamond ring in Riley’s face. “I’m not a maid. I’m his wife.”
She remembered what her father had said about Riley leaving Drake for money. Riley certainly wasn’t dressed like a woman who was hurting for money. Alessandra assumed clothing was the same as emotion.
In high society, there is an unwritten expectation to maintain appearances at all times. Show off your designer labels so no one knows you’re hurting for money. Keep a smile on your face so no one knows how painful the welts on your back are.
Alessandra looked from Riley to her husband. This was their marital home, and she’d be damned if Riley took another stab at Drake or ran her out of the house.
“If you wouldn’t mind giving the adults some privacy,” Riley said patronizingly.
“This is my house now. You don’t get to come in here and make demands,” Alessandra said, wanting nothing more than to wipe the saccharine smile from Riley’s face.
“Alessandra, please. Give me a moment alone with Riley.” Drake’s stern voice stunned Alessandra.
She turned sharply towards him to engage in an argument. “I’m your wife, Drake. I’m staying right here.”
A shiver ran down her spine as his eyes flashed with a dangerous threat of punishment. She backed down but didn’t leave.
“Why is she here, Drake? Isn’t she a bit young for you? You’ve been calling me all week, begging me to come home. And you’ve let this bimbo help herself to clothes from my closet and lounge in my underwear.”
“What does she mean, Drake?” Alessandra was dismayed.
“I’m sorry, Alessandra,” he said.
Alessandra searched Drake’s eyes for answers she desperately needed, but his silence spoke volumes. She recollected the phone call she had unintentionally overheard on their honeymoon, now knowing he was speaking to his ex. Despite feeling dizzy and eyes stinging from unshed tears, Alessandra remained strong. She refused to let anyone see her shed a tear.
“Riley took money to stand you up at the altar, and you’ve been begging her to return this whole time? All I’ve done is try to show you I’m in this. Yet you continue to hurt me. You’re a fucking asshole, Drake Walker! I never should’ve trusted you.”
