NINE

"Wait."

He pulled back so abruptly, breathing hard. His eyes were filled with lust and a flash of panic crossed his face. 

"Wait," he repeated, pulling himself away from me. 

I lay there in confusion but I could still feel his touch on my body. My heart was racing and my skin was on fire. 

"I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, refusing to look at me. "We shouldn't be doing this."

At that moment I felt so embarrassed. I wished there was a hole I could crawl into. 

He pulled me up gently from the bed and before I could say anything he kissed my forehead softly. 

"See you tomorrow," he said quietly. "Have a good night." Then he walked out and closed the door behind him without even looking back.

I stared at the closed door. My emotions were literally all over the place. I looked all over the room trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened. 

I fell back onto the massive bed and stared at that ridiculously high ceiling.

This man was going to drive me insane.

★★★★★

I woke up to sunlight coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows that were definitely not mine.

Oh yeah. This wasn't my house. It belonged to Elijah Washington. The stranger I had married. 

I threw off the covers and stretched my body. Memories from yesterday came back to me. From my wedding disaster to signing a contract with a billionaire to meeting his grandfather to.. I let out a small squeal as I remembered how we almost killed las night. Oh my God. That should never happen again unless when necessary. I pushed the memory of last night to the back of my mind as I made my way out of the bed and into the bathroom.

I don't know what game Elijah was playing at but I wouldn't be taken in by his charms. I wasn't one of his escorts whom he could just take advantage of without regard for their feelings.

Splashing water on my face, I brushed and took a long warm bath.

I made my way downstairs, taking in the penthouse in the morning light.

Everything was so... white. White walls, white furniture, white marble floors that were cold. It looked like something out of a magazine. I avoided touching anything in case I somehow dirtied anything.

My old apartment had stains on the carpet and a leaky faucet. This place had a chandelier in the entryway. A fucking chandelier!

I yawned. Coffee. I needed a hot cup of coffee.

I found the kitchen and my eyes immediately landed on a coffee maker with a strange design. It looked like it belonged in a spaceship.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, running my hands over the numerous buttons.

I pressed a random button and the machine beeped angrily at me.

"Okay, rude." I pressed another button and this time it responded with more beeping and it started vibrating.

"I just want coffee," I muttered to the machine. "Is that too much to ask?"

"You need to add water first."

I jumped and turned around.

Elijah stood in the doorway, looking annoyingly perfect in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His hair was slightly messy, like he'd just woken up.

Don't think about how good he looks.

"I knew that," I lied.

He raised an eyebrow. I could feel a smug remark coming. I think he derived pressure from seeing me in embarrassing moments. "Did you?"

"Obviously." I turned back to the machine, trying to look confident. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. "I was just... testing it."

"Right." I could hear the amusement in his voice and I glared back at him. Asshole.

He walked over and stood close enough that I could smell his scent. My pulse quickened.

Stop it Breanna.

He moved his arm to the machine and pressed a few buttons then the machine hummed to life.

"Water goes here," he pointed to a compartment. "Coffee here….beans here. It's not rocket science."

"Well, excuse me for not having a degree in overpriced coffee makers," I shot back, stepping away from him.

He smirked. "It's pretty standard."

"Standard for who? Millionaires?"

"I'm not a millionaire."

"Billionaire then. My bad." I crossed my arms. "The point is, normal people have normal coffee makers with one button. Maybe two if you're fancy."

"You'll get used to it." He grabbed two mugs from a cabinet. Everything in this kitchen was so organized it was unsettling. "How do you take your coffee?"

"I can make my own coffee."

"Clearly." He glanced at the still-beeping machine.

I glared at him. "Why do you care?"

“Well since we're husband and wife. I need to know everything about you. We need to get to know each other

I did not want to know anything about him because we sure as hell won't relate to anything.

"I like vanilla latte with extra foam. What else do you wanna know? When was the last time I had my period?"

He laughed before turning to the coffee maker from hell.

A minute later, he handed me a mug.

I took a sip and damn it, it was perfect. 

"There's bread in the pantry if you want toast," he said, making his own coffee. "Or we can wait for Cynthia."

"Cynthia?"

"The housekeeper. She comes at seven to make breakfast and re-stock the fridge. 

“Why do you need someone to make you breakfast?” I asked.

“Because I can…didn’t you have people who do things for you?” He asked. 

I opened my mouth to respond though I had no idea how I was going to respond to his ridiculous question when the sound of a key in the lock made us both turn.

A woman walked in, and she was definitely not what I expected when he said "housekeeper."

She was young, maybe late twenties and very pretty. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun and she wore a simple fitted top tucked into high-waisted trousers. She held grocery bags. 

She looked at me with an odd expression. 

"Good morning, Mr. Washington," she said but her eyes were still on me. "I wasn't aware you had company."

“As I've already informed you Cynthia. My wife will be staying with me here in the penthouse. Show her respect as you've shown me and tend to whatever she needs.”

Cynthia nodded but I noticed the strange expression she made. Like she didn't want me here. 

She turned to me then and smiled. "Welcome, Mrs. Washington."

"Thanks," I said, wrapping both hands around my mug.

She moved around the kitchen, unpacking groceries and putting things away easily. 

She reached past me to put something in the cabinet above my head without excusing herself first and I almost tripped. 

What the hell was her problem??

"I'll start on breakfast," she said, already pulling out a pan. "The usual, Mr. Washington?"

"That's fine."

"And for your...wife?" She glanced at me with a blank expression. 

"I'm fine, thank you," I said.

"She'll have something," Elijah said at the same time.

We looked at each other. 

"I'm not hungry," I frowned at him. Was he going to force me to eat?

"You haven't eaten since last night." He countered with a stern look on his face. 

"I'll eat later." 

"She'll have eggs," Elijah told Cynthia, making me scoff in anger, then he walked out of the kitchen entirely. 

I sat at the kitchen island watching Cynthia as she cracked an egg into the pan and said nothing because I refused to leave and give her the satisfaction of having the kitchen to herself. 

I sipped my coffee and watched her cook. 

"How long have you worked here?" I asked. Might as well get to know her. 

"Four years," she said without turning around.

"That's a long time."

"Mr. Washington values loyalty." She slid the eggs onto a plate and set it in front of me with a polite smile. "He's a very good employer."

"I'm sure he is," I responded, studying her. 

She held my stare for long, then turned back to the stove to wipe it down, I picked up my fork.

The eggs were actually perfect and I hated that it was. 

It was silent in the kitchen and I could feel some bad energy coming from Cynthia as she continued to ignore me. I needed to get out of this house for today. 

I finished eating and pushed the plate aside. Elijah walked back in a few minutes later, phone in hand, and poured himself more coffee.

"Elijah, I want to see my father."

His expression changed and the business-mode thing he had going softened. "When?"

"Today." I turned the mug in my hands. "I haven't seen him since the surgery and I just... I need to check on him."

"I'll come with you."

I blinked. "You don't have to do that."

"Your father will want to meet your husband. It would look strange if I didn't come." He interrupts. 

"Okay," I said quietly. "But you don't have to stay long."

"One o'clock. Be ready." He picked up his coffee and walked out again leaving me alone in this big ass kitchen with this strange woman who I don't think I liked.