CHAPTER 3: ROOM FOR TWO

​ALEX'S POV

The penthouse doors clicked shut behind us, cutting off the distant, suffocating noise of Manhattan high society. We had finally arrived.

The moment the door closed, Ruby let out a long, exhausted sigh and immediately kicked off her designer heels. She scooped them up, holding them loosely in one hand. Without the extra five inches, I realized she was even shorter than I originally thought. Standing there bare-footed on the marble floor, she looked surprisingly delicate.

Six maids were already lined up in the grand foyer, bowing their heads in unison. "Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Ray," they greeted. They efficiently swept past us, grabbing our bags and heavy luggage from the drivers to carry them up to the residential wings.

I turned to Ruby, keeping my face completely expressionless. "Follow me, please."

I led the way up the sweeping spiral staircase, the silence between us heavy but charged. Reaching the top landing, I began navigating the wide, modern hallway. I stopped at the first set of double doors.

"This is my study," I said, opening it briefly to show her the dark wood and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves before closing it.

I walked a few paces down. "The next door is my bedroom."

Finally, I walked across the wide hall to the opposite wing and pushed open a massive door leading into a stunning, sun-drenched master suite. "This is our room. You can go in."

I turned to leave, but stopped when I caught the look of sheer confusion plastering her face. She blinked at me, her green eyes wide.

"Where's my room?" she asked, her voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

"This is it," I replied, gesturing to the suite behind her.

"No, you said this is our room," she shot back, crossing her arms defensively. "As in, we share it. I don't have my own personal room like you do?"

I froze, a flicker of genuine shock crossing my mind. I didn't think she paid that much attention to my words, let alone had the nerve to call me out on it immediately. Most girls in her position would have just meekly accepted whatever arrangement I gave them.

"It will be arranged tomorrow if you want it," I said coldly, masking my surprise.

Without waiting for her reply, I turned on my heel and stepped away, heading back across the hall toward the sanctuary of my own bedroom.

She has a sharp mouth, I thought, loosening my bow tie with an aggressive tug. But as much as her attitude irritated me, my mind kept flashing back to how she looked in that wedding dress. Her eyes were captivating, and I couldn't deny being fiercely attracted to her body. The dress had hugged her curves in all the right places, and just thinking about the slope of her waist and the exposed skin of her neck made a sudden, heavy heat coil deep in my gut.

F*ck. I'm getting hard. This was dangerous. She was supposed to be a wife for show, completely off-limits to protect whatever sanity I had left. Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I quickly fired off a text to James: Send two girls to my usual hotel suite. Now.

I needed a distraction, and I needed it fast. Tossing my phone onto the bed, I stripped off my tuxedo jacket and headed into the bathroom. I desperately needed a cold shower. The pounding shower and the distraction last night had barely done anything to erase the image of my new wife from my mind.

By 8:00 AM the next morning, I walked back into the penthouse, my jacket slung over my shoulder. The moment I stepped through the foyer, a rich, mouth-watering aroma hit me. It smelled incredible. Following the scent, I walked toward the kitchen, only to freeze at the doorway.

Ruby was standing by the stove.

She had abandoned the elaborate wedding gown for a pair of tiny pajama shorts and a tight tank top. Her vibrant ginger hair was completely down, cascading over her shoulders in wild, soft waves. Because of the morning chill in the kitchen, her nppls were pointing sharply against the thin fabric of her top. She was completely oblivious, humming softly to herself as she carefully dished food onto two plates.

D*mn. It was barely eight in the morning, and she was already up and cooking?

The rustle of my suit jacket gave me away. She looked up, her piercing green eyes locking onto mine. "Good morning," she said, her voice bright and entirely unaffected by the early hour.

"Morning," I muttered. My throat felt suddenly dry. Unwilling to let her see how much the sight of her was affecting me, I turned on my heel to leave.

"A moment, please," her voice called out, sharp and commanding.

Before I could walk away, she stepped past me, her bare feet clicking lightly against the tiles, and firmly shut the kitchen door. She turned around, crossing her arms, and stood right in my personal space.

"You went out last night," she stated evenly. "Not that I care where you went to, but I thought we would be sleeping in the same room last night. I stayed up waiting for you, and you didn't come back. I don't think it's proper that you left the house without informing me. Arranged or not, I'm still your wife."

Ruby just kept surprising me. I stared down at her, completely caught off guard. Most women in New York were entirely intimidated by me, terrified of stepping on my toes or asking questions. But she stood there, looking me dead in the eye, demanding respect. I couldn't even get pssd; she had genuinely made me speechless.

"Okay," I finally managed to say, clearing my throat. "Next time, I will inform you."

"And...?" she prompted, tilting her head, her green eyes narrowing slightly as if expecting something else.

I blinked, completely confused by her forwardness. "And... I'm sorry?"

A satisfied, brilliant smile broke across her face, completely transforming her expression. "Good. Now, breakfast?"

"No, I'm late for work," I said, checking my Rolex to mask the sudden spike in my heart rate. "I just need to change my clothes and head out."

"I can pack it up for you," she offered quickly, already turning back toward the counter.

"Okay. I don't mind," I replied. Honestly, the kitchen smelled so amazing that I was genuinely curious to taste whatever she had cooked up.

"Alright, thank you," she said over her shoulder.

As she moved around the kitchen to grab a container, my eyes tracked her every movement. With every step she took, her breasts shifted subtly beneath the tight tank top. I clenched my jaw, forcefully tearing my gaze away before my body could betray me again.

This five-year contract was going to be a lot harder than I thought.