Amnesia & Matrimony Chapter 2

When we got home, I went straight to my study to deal with a pile of paperwork.

Later, when I returned to my bedroom, I found Bart standing there, a basin of water for washing my feet placed neatly on the floor. He was frozen, staring at something in his hands. I followed his gaze and my stomach dropped.

It was his pajama shirt. For all his arrogance, he was surprisingly sentimental about some things. He’d worn the same pajamas since college, even after four years of marriage.

He turned to me, his eyes clouded with confusion. "You're married. So why are my things in your room?"

I sauntered over, a wicked smile playing on my lips. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him close. His ears turned a bright, tell-tale red, and he quickly averted his eyes. "Wh-what are you doing?"

My fingertips traced lazy circles on his firm chest. "My husband… he’s been abroad for a long time. You know how it is. A girl gets lonely. I have certain… needs that require attention."

His eyes widened in shock. "So… I'm your affair? Your lover on the side?"

"Or is 'plaything' a more accurate term?" I mused.

I opened my mouth to continue, but stopped. He had lowered his head, his eyes shadowed with a deep, weary sadness. His voice was a choked whisper.

"A plaything… Fine."

For a moment, a pang of guilt hit me. He looked so lost, so utterly pitiful. Had I gone too far? Bart Thorne was a man defined by his pride. Waking up to find himself a bankrupt servant and now a clandestine lover… was it too much of a blow?

But before I could second-guess myself, I was yanked into a fierce embrace. His mouth crashed down on mine, a brutal, all-consuming kiss that left no room for negotiation. It was a kiss of desperation, a reckless, all-or-nothing assault.