The Wolf and His Wife Read online

  This man rarely issued a compliment, so I took it straight to heart. “Thank you.” Maybe my words got to him, made him miss our friendship the way I did. I couldn’t think of any other explanation for why he was there, why he showed up to watch me perform songs he’d already heard.

  “Let me walk you to your car.” His arm circled my waist, and he guided me outside through the hallways, back to the place where we’d met the very first time. Down the steps and to the car, he guided me until we reached my black BMW, the new car he’d bought me since I’d given away my old one.

  I pulled out my keys and hit the button to unlock the doors. “I’ll see you at the house.”

  He opened the door for me, being a gentleman. “I’m going out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I stilled before I lowered myself into the front seat, suddenly disappointed that Maverick would be visiting a bar to find a woman to take home. He’d stopped by my show on the way since he was in the city anyway. Why did I expect anything different? “Alright…be safe.”

  “Sheep, I’m always safe.”

  2

  Maverick

  I brought the wineglass to my lips and took a drink, noting the flavors of berries, oak, and even age. My fingers gripped the stem of the glass as I let the smoothness roll across my tongue, savoring the richness that had been perfectly fermented.

  Tony stood beside me, his eyes moving past my frame as he watched something on the other side of the room. “I never congratulated you on your wedding. It’s only been a few months, so you must be in the honeymoon stage.”

  Far from it. “Thank you.”

  He continued to stare.

  I followed his gaze and watched where it landed. Arwen stood in a black cocktail dress, skintight and backless, with five-inch heels that made her height more compatible with mine. With a glass of wine in her hand, she talked to some of the guys who had cornered her, becoming a highlight of the evening since most people recognized her from the opera.

  Tony was married, but he didn’t seem to care if his wife noticed the subject of his obsession. “You lucked out, Maverick. She’s one hell of a beauty.”

  She turned heads everywhere she went. I noticed it anytime we were in public together. Men couldn’t control themselves and eye-fucked her like their fantasy might be reality someday. “Thank you.”

  “How did you meet?”

  I went with the truth. “At the opera. She performed, and I went backstage to talk to her.”

  “And the rest is history?” he asked.

  I swirled my wine. “Something like that.”

  “The sex good?”

  I lowered my glass and stared at him, finding the question offensive. I was used to men saying inappropriate things about my wife’s legs and her gorgeous ass, but I let them slide because her sexiness was impossible to ignore. But I didn’t appreciate a question so intimate. I never talked about my lovers like that, not with Kent or anyone else. “How’s the sex with your wife?”

  When he grew uncomfortable at the question, I’d made my point.

  Tom walked up to me, wearing a dark blue suit with a black tie. Everyone in the room was an affluent member of society, the rich and aristocratic of Italy. They were business owners, models, and designers. I put up with the boredom because they were excellent connections to have for business purposes. He reached me and gripped me by the shoulder. “We’ve been trying to convince your wife to sing us a song. She’s too shy, so how about you give her a nudge?”

  Like that woman ever listened to me. “She’s stubborn.”

  “You’re stubborn too, so you’re perfect for the job.” He clapped me on the back then guided me across the room.

  Arwen was surrounded by admirers, both men and women, trying to get her to serenade everyone in the room. Despite her talent, she was unusually humble about it. It was something she never talked about with me, only if I asked. Her eyes settled on me when I came close, and I saw the gentle look of affection she always gave whenever I was concerned. She’d despised me when we first met, but now she turned to me the way she used to turn to her father. “I know why they’ve sent you…”

  I came close to her, circling my arm around her waist and holding her close. I acted like her husband, not just to put on a show, but so the guys would stop eye-fucking her right in front of me. She didn’t mean anything to me, but she was still mine. I didn’t like it when people eyed my things. “Just a song.”

  “I don’t know…so many people here.”

  “Not more than an entire auditorium.”

  “But I don’t know these people…”

  “You don’t know anyone at the theater either.”

  She opened her mouth to argue once more.

  “Sheep, just do it.”

  She closed her mouth at the use of her nickname, her eyes softening at the affection.

  “I scared off your admirer. You owe me.”

  “I owe you for a lot more than that, Maverick.” Her arm rested on mine as her hand gripped my bicep. Her affection for me was peculiar because she seemed to admire me and respect me, but all she wanted was my friendship. She wanted to be my lover sometimes, but she didn’t want to be the only woman in my life. It was a strange relationship, so deep and so shallow at the same time.

  “Then sing.” My hand released her waist, and I stepped away, leaving her alone in front of the fireplace while everyone gathered around to hear those amazing pipes release a beautiful song. Without accompanying instruments, it would be a song from her voice alone—but it would still be perfect.

  She gave a nervous smile and brought her fingertips together before she finally opened her mouth to sing. Without even warming up, she managed to produce the perfect notes through no effort, creating a song that mesmerized everyone—including me.

  Tony stood beside me, not taking a single drink from his glass through the entire performance. No one else moved an inch. They hardly even breathed. They were all equally entranced by the music she created, by the vivid picture she painted with just her voice. Not a single person cared about anything else at that moment.

  At the end of her song, her voice reached so high, it resonated with the particles in the air, made the entire room shift with the energy. Empty glasses on the table shattered when she hit the highest note, exploding because of her power.

  Then she ended the song.

  Everyone looked around at the destroyed glasses then applauded, even more impressed with her talent at such a more intimate level than in an auditorium.

  I was the only one who didn’t clap—because I wasn’t surprised.

  She sat beside me at the table, cutting her fork into her cheesecake and bringing a taste to her lips. “Damn…this is good.”

  My arm rested across the back of her chair, keeping the dogs away from my wife. Every man in that room was an acquaintance I socialized with on a regular basis, but they couldn’t control themselves around Arwen. They turned into horny teenagers who were obsessed with the most beautiful girl in school. They eyed me with envy, wishing she were theirs instead of mine.

  I’d never thought she could be instrumental in business. That night, I got more invitations for collaborations than I’d ever had. Restaurant owners asked for bigger shipments of my product, and other acquaintances asked for aged wheels for their dinner parties. They came flooding to me—all because of the woman I married.

  But I would never tell her that.

  She cut into her cheesecake again and took another bite. “Maverick, you have to try this…” She wiped the fork down her tongue then closed her eyes as she savored it. “I’ve never had cheesecake this good in my entire life.”

  When I looked up, I saw a few men watching her, getting off on the way she got off on her dessert.

  Fuck, these men couldn’t keep it in their pants.

  “I’m good.” I grabbed her fork and put it down, cutting her off from her affair with her dessert. “That’s enough.”

  “Uh, I’ll eat all that I w
ant.” She grabbed her fork again. “I don’t care if my hips get bigger.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.” I grabbed the fork again and put it down. “You’re making every man in here hard as a rock.” That included me. “Now, if you can’t stop eating like a porn star, then you can’t eat.”

  “What?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “No, I’m not. Do as I say. Don’t make me ask you again.”

  Normally, she would tell me off or smear the dessert across my face, but since we were surrounded by people, she kept her mouth shut. She also probably played nice since she’d fucked up so badly. She owed me—and she knew it.

  She picked up the fork and kept eating, this time behaving like a normal person. She cut down the sexiness and did her best to blend in with everyone else.

  Good.

  “Should we offer to pay for the glasses I broke?”

  “No. That would be offensive.”

  “How so?”

  “Because that implies he can’t pay to replace them. You know how rich people are.”

  “I guess it’s been a while now…” She turned her gaze back to her cheesecake and took another bite. “I’ve got a few hundred bucks in my account, so I guess the cost of a single glass is a big deal to me.”

  “You’re my wife—which means you have billions in your account.”

  She kept eating and ignored what I said. She still hadn’t used any of the money I put in her account. She lived off her meager checks from the opera to buy her clothes and accessories.

  I was annoyed with her stubbornness, but I also respected it. She valued her independence and didn’t want to spend my money on superficial stuff she didn’t need. She was a simple person now.

  “People here seem to admire you.” She set down her fork and looked at me, guests mingling around us as the night drew to a close.

  “You’re confusing admiration for respect.”

  “Or maybe they’re the same thing.”

  They weren’t in my book. I pulled back my sleeve and checked the time. It was getting late, almost eleven. We still had a long drive back to the house. “We should get going.”

  “I wish I could take this cheesecake home.”

  “I can have Abigail bake an entire round for you.”

  “No, that’d be a terrible idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d eat it all.”

  I loosened my tie once we were in the car and popped open the first button. We were in my Bugatti, so I sped out of the city and into the countryside, pushing the car to a hundred and eighty kilometers per hour.

  None of the cops would dare to pull me over.

  She looked out the window from the passenger seat, her dress riding up on her thighs because it was so short. She would normally tug it down, but since it was just the two of us, she let it be.

  I tried not to stare.

  She had been the most beautiful woman in that room tonight, and that gave me a great sense of pride. She was a trophy I owned, a piece of real estate everyone wanted. Having a wife used to be a pain, but she’d become useful. At least it helped my image…and my business.

  And I couldn’t help but agree with everyone else… she was exceptional.

  Her hair was in curls, her makeup was dark, and she’d painted her lips the sexiest color, a deep red that almost looked burgundy. Diamond earrings sat in her lobes, and that dress fit her perfect body in the sexiest way.

  We didn’t talk during the drive home, and we didn’t have music on either. It was just silence.

  My eyes were on the road when I felt her hand reach for my thigh. Her fingers gently dug into my slacks, her sharp nails reminding me of the way she’d cut my back in the past. After the squeeze, her fingers continued to rest there, subtly inviting me to her bed tonight.

  It was tempting.

  I turned to her and saw the way she looked at me, the way her mascara made her eyelashes look so thick. They made her eyes stand out so beautifully, especially when she wore dark colors that enhanced their vibrancy. Her lips were delectable in that shade, the perfect color to smear against my base after as she gave me a deep kiss.

  I eye-fucked her the way everyone else had that evening.

  I forced my gaze back on the road so we wouldn’t crash, slightly distracted by the way her fingers kept digging into me. Her hand moved higher until she found exactly what she was looking for—my hard dick.

  We arrived at the house minutes later, tensions running high. She wanted me, and with the way she looked tonight, I wanted her too.

  But I was still pissed about the stunt she’d pulled. My father was now my enemy, and I had to watch my back every second of the day because I never knew when he would strike. That made me push her away, made me wish I didn’t find her attractive at that moment.

  We went into the house and walked to the second floor, where I would drop her off before continuing on my way to my bedroom on the next landing. I wanted to dismiss her and turn away, but her fingers snaked into mine until they were locked together.

  It reminded me of the way she’d gripped my hand at the funeral, how she conveyed so much emotion in that simple embrace. She’d squeezed our fingers together, tears streaking down her face. She’d told me I was her rock…the only man she could count on.

  It always turned me on when she needed me. And she needed me now.

  She faced me, her hand still held in mine. In those heels, she was much taller than usual, her back dipping at a beautiful angle to make her ass stick out even farther. She moved into me, her fingers releasing from mine so she could push her hands up my chest. Slowly, her fingers dug under my jacket until she pushed it off my shoulders, leaving me in just my collared shirt. She wanted me—and she didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding.

  She stepped closer to my chest and pressed her lips to mine, her eyes still open as she looked at me. Her lips landed softly, like a teardrop on a pillow. She inhaled the second she felt my mouth, like the chemistry was just as strong as ever. Her eyes closed, and her hand slid into my hair as she brought me in for a passionate kiss.

  I let her pull me, let her have me. My lips moved with hers, and the taste of cheesecake was impossible to ignore. I could taste the sweetness as it combined with her desire, making it the best thing I’d ever tasted. My hands moved to her ass, and I bent my neck down as she continued to pull me into her.

  She moaned into my mouth.

  My hands gripped her ass under her dress, feeling the soft skin of her cheeks as well as the lace of her thong.

  “Fuck me.” She spoke against my mouth, enticing me with her touch. Her demand came out heavy, the words weighed down with so much desire. She pulled off the order so well, making it sexy enough for a fantasy.

  I knew every man in that room tonight wished he were me right now.

  But that wasn’t enough to make me drop my pants. That wasn’t enough to invite her into my bed for the night. It didn’t matter how sexy her legs were, how good of a kisser she was. She’d crossed me—and I still wasn’t over it.

  I ended the kiss and pulled back. “Goodnight, Sheep.”

  She stood there with parted lips, wounded by the way I’d rejected her. Disbelief was in her gaze, as if she couldn’t believe I’d turned her down—again. Desire was still in her eyes, like she would take me if I changed my mind. “Maverick—”

  “I’m still pissed at you.” As her husband, I would always protect her from clingy assholes who didn’t understand the meaning of no. I would defend her from the sexist comments men couldn’t hold back. I would buy her a new car when she gave her old one away. But I wouldn’t turn the other cheek when she betrayed what I cared about most—trust.

  “It’s just sex…”

  Any other guy would have the same thought. It didn’t matter if she stabbed me in the back; she was still so damn fuckable. It was just meaningless sex, sweaty and dirty fucking. It shouldn’t matter to me. But for wh
atever reason, it did. “I get sex all the time, so I don’t need this.” I turned around and headed up the stairs, adding to the harsh words I said to her as I blew her off. “I don’t need you.”

  I didn’t see Arwen the next day.

  I got up early, worked out, and then went to the office. I kept busy, working on orders and making sure my important clients got exactly what they wanted. Some of them spent ten thousand dollars on a single wheel of cheese because it’d been aged for almost two decades. Those had to be handled with the highest care.

  At the end of the day, I sat in my office and looked out the window, watching the sun go down. It was the end of summer, so the sun set a little earlier than usual. I liked to watch the colors change from blue to pink and purple. With a glass of scotch in my hand, I found it the most relaxing part of my day.

  When night had completely fallen, I left my office and drove back to the house. I wasn’t necessarily avoiding Arwen, but I didn’t look forward to seeing her. I hadn’t blown her off because I was uncomfortable with her reaction. I just didn’t feel like talking about it.

  Abigail had dinner waiting for me downstairs, so I ate before I went up to the third floor. The second I was at the top of the stairs, I heard the most beautiful voice.

  “Seasons change, plants come back to life, but you’re gone forever…and I’ve already said goodbye.” Piano keys were being played lightly by master fingertips. The music was soft and quiet, completely opposite from the burst of song she produced in the auditorium. This was intimate and sexy, just her and the piano.

  I walked down the hallway, passing the door where the piano stood behind the closed door.

  “My heart withers with broken strings, while you’ve gotten your wings…”

  I stopped outside the door, listening to the beautiful way she hit her notes without even trying. She wasn’t just an excellent singer, but a master of her craft. I didn’t recognize the song, and I wondered if she’d written it herself…because it reminded me of her father.