Sincerely, Your Inconvenient Wife: A Marriage of Convenience Office Romance (The Harder They Fall)

Sincerely, Your Inconvenient Wife: Chapter 23



helped her off the motorcycle, cupping herself between her thighs. The ride back to Denver hadn’t been as smooth as the one out of town. We’d stopped twice to give her a break, but she was still aching.

I didn’t like seeing her hurting. Not when it was my fault for being a fucking animal with her. I couldn’t feel guilty for that. It was my timing that needed a lot of work. “I’m sorry, pretty girl. I was way too hard on you before going on a long ride.”

She shook her head. “I liked it though.”

“I was right there. I know you did. I have the claw marks on my back to prove it.”

“Shut up, Luca.” She bunched the front of my jacket in her fist. “It’s okay. I’ll live. I might need a break from the motorcycle for a little while, but other than that—”

She squealed when I swooped her up in my arms and headed toward the elevator.

“You’re carrying me. Why are you carrying me?”

“Shhh.” Stepping into the elevator, I punched the button to our floor. “Let me do it. I need to do something.”

“Okay. I’m guessing this is you being sweet.” She patted my cheek. “Thank you for carrying me.”

“You like this?” I moved my hand to palm her ass, giving it a squeeze.

Her eyes flared. “I liked it when I thought you were being sweet. Now it’s clear you were just looking for an excuse to feel me up.”

“I don’t need an excuse.”

An hour later, we’d unpacked, I’d gone through some of the emails I’d neglected while we were away, and Saoirse had showered. She padded into the den, where I was sitting with my laptop on the sectional, plopping down a cushion away.

“I haven’t thanked you for the way you stood up for me yesterday.”

I clicked the laptop closed, setting it aside. “It was part of our agreement.”

“I’m not sure you knew what you were getting into when you agreed, though. My mother is intense and hard to handle. So, thank you, Luca. It meant a lot to me.”

“I don’t want you thanking me for doing the right thing.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Well, I am. What are you going to do about it?”

I ran my gaze over her long legs and exposed midriff. Her damp hair woven into a braid. The new freckles on her cheeks from all the time we spent outside on the ranch.

She made my place look good.

“Are you spoiling for a fight?”

“Maybe. I’m feeling a little vulnerable from that trip. Lashing out at you seems like a good idea right now.”

Leaning over, I slid my hand under her knees, twisting her body sideways so her feet were on my lap. They were soft, her toes painted pale pink, pretty like every other part of her. I took them in my hands, rubbing the tops and soles.

“No lashing when I’m giving you a foot massage,” I said. “Tell me why she’s like that.”

She blew out a long breath and wiggled her toes. “She’s always been that way. Exacting. But when she and my dad were together, she was softer. When I wanted to take belly dancing lessons instead of ballet, she started to get pissed, but my dad wrapped his arms around her, kissed her cheek, and said, ‘Come on, Lil. Everyone does ballet. Our girl has to dance her own rhythm.’ That was all it took. A snuggle, a kiss, and some soft words, and she was giving in.”

I shook my head. “They really loved each other.”

“Yeah. But it wasn’t enough to surmount their fundamental differences. My dad bent for her until he couldn’t anymore. Then he did the unforgivable thing, and my mother has never been the same. Neither of them has been.”

I pushed the pad of my thumb down the center of her arch, and her eyelids fluttered closed on a sigh.

“How’d belly dancing go?” I asked.

Her eyes stayed closed, but her mouth lifted into a grin. “Awful. I was terrible and dropped out after three classes.”

“Damn. I was looking forward to a demonstration.”

Her feet vibrated in my hands as she giggled. “If you want to witness the least sexy thing you’ve ever seen, I can make that happen. I still remember a couple moves.”

“I find it hard to believe anything you do isn’t sexy.”

Her eyes opened and landed on me. “That is quite the compliment, Luca. I’m not going to list all the unsexy things I do to convince you otherwise.”

I dug my thumb deep into her foot. “Thank you for that.”

With a yelp, she stole her feet from my lap, tucking them beneath her. “That was way too hard, but this is nice. We never do this.”

I kicked my legs out, resting my feet on the ottoman. “What?”

“You know, hang out. You’re either at work or disappearing to your mystery locations.”

“You’re right. My schedule is hectic. We’re in the initial phase of an internal audit. I’ve been vetting a new company since my father has used the same one for his entire tenure, and Clara and I felt we should bring in someone new. Then there are the countless meetings, video conferences, emails to return. It leaches most of my time and energy.”

“That’s understandable. I don’t fault you for that. I don’t really know what life was like before you took over as CEO, but I get the sense it was nothing like this.”

“You have no idea.”

“You’re right. I don’t. This is the most you’ve told me about anything, including what’s going on with you currently.”

I met her curious gaze. “I don’t keep secrets, Saoirse. You’ve never asked me where I go at night.”

Nodding, she swallowed hard. “The night after our wedding, I fell asleep in here. You came in and picked me up.”

“I remember.”

“You came home freshly showered.”

“Did I?” The things I remembered had to do with her. The flower in her hair. Her dress. The ring she gave me. What I did and where I went were only vague memories I’d stored away in the back of my mind.

“You know you did. And since you go to the gym in the morning, I made assumptions I didn’t want to have confirmed. I don’t ask because I don’t want you to say it.”

I reared back, really taking her in. I didn’t like what she was accusing me of when I’d explicitly told her more than once I wasn’t fucking around. More than that, it gnawed at me that she thought that was exactly what I was doing but hadn’t called me out on it.

“You truly believe I’m out all night fucking, yet you let me inside you without a condom? Make that make sense, Saoirse.”

The back of her hand hit her forehead. “I don’t think either of us were thinking clearly when that happened. Obviously, we shouldn’t do that again—”

“Oh, we’re doing it again.” I shot to my feet, holding my hand out to her. She didn’t take it. “Come here.”

“I’d rather not.”

“If you don’t, I’ll pick your stubborn little ass up.” I shook my hand. “Come here.”

With a sigh, she slipped her hand into mine, and I yanked her upright. Taking her by the hips, I brought her closer to me.

“You need to understand me. I don’t keep secrets, and I don’t lie. If you ask me anything, I will tell you the truth. So ask me.”

Her lashes were dark, except for the tips, which were so blonde, they were almost clear. She usually wore makeup, so I hadn’t noticed until now, looking at her up close.

“Do you take a shower so you don’t come home smelling like sex?”

“No.”

Her exhale was light, drifting between us. “Where do you go, Luca?”

“Do you want me to show you?”

Her mouth pressed into a hard line, and for a second, I thought she’d deny me, but finally, she nodded once.

So, I took her hand and walked to the entry. I grabbed her flip-flops and my unlaced boots, then we left the apartment, riding the elevator one floor down.

I unlocked the door to my other apartment and pushed it open. Saoirse hesitated beside me.

“Come on. Nothing’s going to hurt you.” I gave her hand a tug, and after another beat of hesitation, she let me pull her in, and I flicked on the lights.

“This is where I spend my time. My studio.”

With her mouth shaped like a pretty little o, Saoirse did a slow spin, taking it all in.

When I bought the penthouse a couple years ago, I also bought the one-bedroom below it and gutted it to the studs. Now, it was completely soundproof, with a small, utilitarian kitchen used for cleaning my supplies more than making meals. The bedroom had been made smaller and lined with shelving, where I stored tools, materials, and canvases.

“The sculptures in your living room,” she whispered.

I nodded. “They’re mine. I made them.”

I let her weave around my studio, bending to check everything out, stopping to study completed pieces. She took her time, and I watched.

None of this was a secret from the people who were part of my inner circle. My friends had my pieces in their homes. My parents and sister too. I’d been creating art since I could stand and had been selling a piece here and there under a pseudonym since adulthood.

But no one else had ever entered this space. Saoirse was the first. She was seeing a part of me no one else had. The uncomfortable squirming in my chest took me by surprise. I’d thought I’d show her, lay her curiosity to rest, and that would be that. But as I waited for her to react, I understood why she’d wanted to lash out when I’d asked about her mother.

Without thinking, I’d made her one of my inner circle. She now held a part of me only a few did.

That made me vulnerable to her.

A fact I found I did not like.

Saoirse spun on her toes, facing me. “I can’t believe this.”

“What can’t you believe?”

She strode across the room, and as soon as she could reach me, she shoved my chest. “I can’t believe you, Luca. Why wouldn’t you just tell me you were going to work in your studio instead of disappearing without a word, knowing what I believed you were doing?” She shoved me again. Not hard. Just enough to keep my attention. “I can’t believe I’ve been looking at your sculptures in your living room, trying to figure them out, while I’m living with the freaking artist. I could have just asked you.”

“You could have.” I caught her hands before she could shove me again. “You can ask me anything.”

“I just have to know the right questions to ask.” Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t wide open, no matter how many times you say you have no secrets.”

“I don’t have secrets, but you might be right. I could afford to be a little more open with you.” It seemed like I was safe from being shoved again, so I wrapped my hand around her nape. “For the final time, I am not having sex with any other women, and I won’t for the duration of this arrangement. My word might not mean anything to you yet, but it will. You will understand, sooner rather than later, if I have anything to say about it. When I tell you I’ll do something, you can count on it.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

I sank my fingers into her hair. “Do you get me, pretty girl? Are you hearing me?”

She nodded. “I do hear you.”

Finally.”

She brought back the shoves. “Don’t be smug. You may not have been keeping this side of you a secret, but you definitely weren’t forthcoming, and you know it.”

“Maybe. I’ve never had someone to answer to. You’re the first person I’ve lived with since college.”

“You don’t answer to me, but a ‘hey, I’m headed down to the studio, see you later’ would be nice.”

My mouth hitched. “I can handle that.”

“We’ll see.” She pushed off me, forcing me to let her go. “Now, tell me about this place. Do you only sculpt?”

“That’s my main medium. I also paint and draw.”

Her gaze swept over me. “Do you love it?” She asked this with such complete earnestness I felt compelled to give her the full, raw truth.

“In another life, I’d make a go of this as a career. But I was born a Rossi, and with my last name comes responsibilities. What I do in this studio can’t be more than a hobby. That’s the way it is.”

“I’m not sure that answered my question, Luca.”

“That’s all I have to give you.”

I showed her around, answering her endless stream of questions along the way. She wanted to see every corner, to know what each tool did. I wasn’t at all surprised she was so interested. Saoirse lived for experiences, and that was what this was for her: an experience to stack up with the others.

When she was finished with her tour, she started for the door, but I didn’t follow. “Aren’t you coming?”

I glanced around the space, then at her. “Hey, I’m gonna stay in the studio. See you later.”

That made her smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“You’re right. I’ll try to make it a habit.”

“Well”—she shifted from one foot to the other—“don’t stay up too late. You have work tomorrow.”

“Got it. Good night, pretty girl.”

“Good night, Luca. Thank you for showing me this.”

With that, she left me alone, quietly closing the door behind her, and I blew out a long, heavy breath, shoving my hair off my face.

I should have followed her upstairs. Eaten dinner with her. Made sure she was comfortable after the way I’d taken her this morning. Put her to bed.

But after the weekend of playing the good husband and bringing her into my studio, I needed to be on my own. To re-create the safe space between us we’d pretty much decimated the last few days.

I was only human. Continuing to grow closer to Saoirse would only lead to disaster. I could fuck without feeling. I’d proven that over the course of my life, time and time again. It was everything else I wasn’t able to compartmentalize.

But we’d done the hard part. Our family and friends knew. An article or two had been published. It was time to get on with it.

Tomorrow, we’d return to the office and slot back into our roles.

All would be right.


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