Chapter 10

SOFIA

When I arrived in my room, I intended to watch my series while reading more about Wales, the company I'll be working for starting Monday. A little research beforehand is always a good idea. But I was distracted, thinking about my interaction with Arthur Geller. I hadn't told Gabriel about it, and I wasn't sure if I should. I wasn't sure if he'd even care.

Twenty minutes later, my reverie was interrupted by loud knocking on my door—not the gentle kind, not Luna's kind. There was furious banging, and if I hadn't rushed to open it, I'm sure the door would have broken down.

My husband stood there. He wasn't wearing a coat, only his white shirt tucked into black formal trousers. He looked furious—so furious I was almost scared. But when his eyes met mine, they softened. He entered my room uninvited and closed the door behind him.

"Where did he touch you?"

"What?"

He gritted his teeth, controlling his anger. "Where did Arthur Geller touch you?"

I blinked.

"Hehe paused. "Can you answer?"

"What?" I asked again, dumbfounded, speechless. "He—he didn't."

Gabriel relaxed. "He didn't?"

"No. He… he just held my wrist to stop me from calling you—"

"He held your wrist?" Something darkened in his eyes.

"Yes," I agreed in a small voice.

"Show me," he said, clearly making an effort to remain calm.

Gabriel confused me. Sometimes he was the coldest person I knew, seemingly unconcerned whether I lived or died. Other times, he'd drop everything to check on me after learning one of his clients had paid me an unsolicited visit.

I raised my left hand, and he held it in both of his. His eyes remained fixed on me, and I shivered when his thumb lightly traced my wrist. He didn't stop, aware of the effect his touch had on me.

"Are you okay?" His voice was gentle, his eyes flickering between my hand and my face.

It was almost as if he actually cared.

I nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." He released my hand and stepped away quickly, as if his proximity was a mistake. "Arthur Geller is my client. He's an important client."

"Oh," I replied quickly. "I was rude to him. I—I scowled. I asked him not to touch me. I'm sorry if that causes you problems."

"What? No, Sofia!"

"What?"

"The reason I'm telling you he's an important client is to tell you that's the only reason I associate with a prick like him." He seemed offended. "I've heard rumors about him, his behavior, but I never bothered to stop working with him because I couldn't care less about what he did outside of business… until now."

I stared at him, blinking.

Gabriel swallowed, his jaw clenching. "He'll pay for misbehaving with you."

"No, Gabriel, it wasn't that serious. I'm okay. If you do that, you'll lose him as a client."

"And?"

"And? Your grandfather won't like that."

"Sofia, let's get one thing straight," he said slowly, emphasizing each word. "You're my responsibility. And no man gets away with coming to my house and touching my wife without her consent. Are we clear?"

"And what if he had my consent?"

Gabriel blinked, looking as if he hadn't heard correctly. "What?"

"I guess what I'm asking is, since our marriage isn't real, are we sleeping with other people?"

He continued to look at me without replying.

It felt embarrassing even discussing this. I shifted my weight. "I—I've noticed you don't sleep at home some nights. I was wondering if you're with someone else. I don't mind, but I'd just like to know where we stand."

He didn't reply.

"There was no clause about this in the contract you made me sign," I added nervously.

The silence was heavy, and the longer it continued, the more humiliating it felt. I was talking to Gabriel about sex—correction, I was talking to him about him having sex with another woman.

"Freckles," he took a deep breath, "I was out at night working. I wasn't out sleeping with other women."

"Oh. Okay," I nodded. "That's good. Great. I mean, the work part. Not the not sleeping with other women part. Or both. I—that's good."

He almost smiled. Almost.

"I've got work to do," he said.

"Yeah, of course," I nodded. He was a busy man. He'd taken time from his schedule to check on me. "Thank you for checking on me."

"Next time a man shows up at the door whom you don't know, you call me. You don't wait for Luna to call Peter, who will tell me when I'm free. You. Call. Me. Clear?"

I nodded.

"I'll be home for lunch," he added, and turning, he left.

As the door closed, I wondered if he meant we'd have lunch together. That's why he said that, right? Right.

Deciding to discuss my new job over lunch, I went downstairs. Luna was talking to the driver, handing him a list. Gabriel was gone.

"Sofia, you need to add some of your art supplies to the list, right?" she asked.

"Yeah." My mood, buoyed by my conversation with Gabriel, I took the list and added the A4 canvases I needed, with brush brands and sizes, and the oil paints. "I was told you had to pick me up from the car and get me into the house last night because I was asleep," I said to the driver. "I'm sorry, and thank you!"

In my peripheral vision, I saw Luna's eyes snap shut.

"You're mistaken, ma'am. It was Gabriel, sir."

"It was, huh?" I asked, glancing at Luna, who wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Yes, in fact, I offered because sir had a bit of a backache the week before your wedding, but he refused to let anyone carry you."

"Okay. Thanks for letting me know." I handed the list back and turned to Luna, who was mumbling apologies and something about "sir's orders."

"Traitor!" I feigned anger, but my heart smiled as I headed to the couch. If he cares, why does he pretend so hard not to?

Gabriel returned for lunch and casually waited for me at the dining table, asking Luna to call me down from my room, which I was glad he did because I was so engrossed in my new art supplies I'd completely lost track of time. The first half of lunch was silent.

Then, he cleared his throat. "I believe Arthur won't be a problem again."

I looked at him, eyes narrowing. "What did you do?"

"I spoke to him," he replied calmly.

I didn't believe his calmness, but I didn't press. "I want to start working again."

"Sure," he nodded, his eyes flickering to the dried paint on my knuckles. "If you like, I can ask someone to clear a room besides yours for you to use."

"Yeah, that would be really nice. Thanks." I half-smiled. He nodded. "Um… Arthur, he mentioned something about a charity gala?"

"He did?" Gabriel stopped eating. "Did he say anything else?"

"No, just that."

"Okay."

"So, are we going to the gala?"

"I'm invited, yes. But Arthur would be there. I didn't think you'd want to see him again after today."

"You said Arthur wouldn't be a problem again, right?" I asked softly.

He nodded.

I shrugged. "I trust you. We should go to the gala."

Gabriel looked at me for a long moment. I didn't know what made me say that, but it had something to do with how worried he was that Arthur had made me uncomfortable, how serious he was about me being his responsibility. I did believe he'd taken care of the situation and I didn't need to worry about it again.

He gave me a small smile. "It's this weekend. On Saturday night. We'll leave at seven; you might want to wear a floor-length dress. There's a dress code."

"Okay," I nodded, suddenly enthusiastic and smiling. "What's the charity for?"

"Penguins? I think? No, I guess it was sharks."

I giggled at his lack of knowledge. "I don't think anyone ever raised money to save sharks."

"Then they must be raising money to kill them," he muttered.

"Gabriel!"

"Some sea animal they're saving, Freckles."

"Penguins are hardly sea animals," I teased.

He huffed, and after a moment of silence, added, "I think I owe you an apology for being unfair to you after we got married. I was recently made to realize that you left your entire life to be my wife for six months. So…"

I looked at him in surprise. "Okay?"

"Okay?" He repeated.

"You said you owe me an apology," I mused. "So, apologize?"

"That's it. That was my apology."

I chuckled. "Oh my God. No one ever taught you how to apologize."

He ignored me.

"So, does that make us friends? Sort-of friends?"

"I don't do friendships, Freckles."

"Then what do you do, Gabriel?" I rolled my eyes. "The more I get to know you, the more boring I think you are."

"I don't know what I dislike more, the fact that you rolled your eyes at me, or the fact that you just called me boring." He raised one corner of his lips in a slight smile.

I smirked. "Both. What are you going to do about it, husband?"

"If you don't stop teasing me like that, wife, I might have to actually show you," he replied in a huskily low voice that sent shivers down my spine, smirking, knowing exactly what he'd done to me.

I shut up for the rest of lunch.

Chapter 10