Stirred (27 page)

Tears of shame and fear swept down my cheeks as I cried out, “Declan, please, you’re hurting me. Stop…
Stop!
”

His only reaction was to tighten his grip on my wrists. I squealed in pain and did the only thing I could think of to stop him. I kneed Declan in the groin, then turned my head and bit him right back. With a sharp bark of pain, he jumped away, one hand cupped to his ear, the other on his crotch.

“You fucking bit me!”

“You bit me first!” My anger made me want to lash out further, but my fear kept me in check.

Doubled over and gagging like he might throw up, Declan pulled his hand away from his ear and examined it, his fingers fanned out before him. “Damn it, Eden. I’m bleeding. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“With
me
?
You’re
the one who attacked first!”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, I wasn’t attacking you. You’re my goddamn wife. I wanted to fuck you, you crazy bitch! You strut around here in your skimpy, lacy underthings. I’m a man, Eden, Your husband. Excuse me for thinking you’d enjoy a little heat in that goddamn frigid pussy of yours!”

I grimaced in disgust. “Not from you, not where
your
dick’s been!”

His eyes narrowed to mere slits, and his lip twitched into a sneer. “Why you sneaky little cunt!”

I stood there, staring at him, my mouth agape and my eyes wide. But not because I was surprised he’d dare speak to me like that, something he’d never done in the twenty years we’d been married. No, I was mortified I’d shown my hand. Now he knew I knew about Aurelia. Not good. Not good at all. Not when his first reaction would likely be defensive, rally his lawyers and protect his blessed assets. After that, he’d get punitive, try to punish me, take away what he knew I treasured most—Ian, my school, my reputation.

I considered backtracking, apologizing, swearing I’d only said that to get under his skin. But that would only encourage him, and he might try again. I didn’t want that.

At that point, regardless of my husband’s affair, with all I’d recently discovered about myself since meeting Sean—learning what sex
should
be like, how a man could pleasure a woman—I knew, without a doubt, I’d never be satisfied with Declan ever again. The very thought extinguished whatever panic I felt over exposing what I knew about Aurelia.

And instead, I grinned.

It wasn’t until later, after he’d left in a silent rage, that I wondered what exactly tonight’s revelations would mean for me.

I saw the look in Eden’s eye just before I turned and left. She might’ve been a nervous wreck, but I witnessed that glimmer that told me she understood. It was an unspoken promise, the same she’d made inside her bedroom before I fucked her as if I were branding her. And I believed her. I trusted she’d keep her vow to be mine alone.

It might seem foolish to expect her to be faithful to me when she wasn’t with her own husband. But I hadn’t betrayed her like he had, and I never would. He couldn’t expect loyalty from the woman he’d tossed aside for her best friend. He deserved everything that would soon be coming his way. I didn’t know how or when Eden would end it with him, but I knew, eventually, she would. Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore.

All those thoughts whipped through my mind in the time it took to cruise back up Eden’s long driveway. After I pulled out onto the road, I passed a car crawling at a slow speed. From my rear view mirror, I saw its brake lights glow on and off as the large, elegant car turned into Eden’s driveway.

“Fuck,” I said aloud.

Could that be Eden’s husband? It was hard to tell in the dark and rain, but it looked like an S-Class—Mercedes’ flagship, the most expensive in their entire line. Exactly what I’d imagined he would drive, another status symbol in his collection designed to show the world he was master and commander. I knew the type well; my father was one, hence the car he’d bought me, a reflection of his success at fatherhood, or so he wanted everyone to think. Typical. I’d spent my first twenty-two years here in Medina. The money, the egos, the one-upmanship, it was all part of this town, home to the planet’s richest man.

If Eden was nervous when her son had come home unexpectedly, I can’t imagine how she’d feel when her husband walked in the door. She was not a good liar. Her emotions laid plain as day across her face. That was one of the things I liked most about her. Eden was real. But that wouldn’t serve her well in this situation.

Worried she might crumble under the pressure, I turned around and coasted past Eden’s driveway again, just in time to see his car’s brake lights disappear behind their garage door as it closed into place.

“Shit,” I swore.

I continued down the narrow road about a mile farther and pulled into the lot at a small neighborhood park near the waterfront. I left my car and jogged at a clipped pace back toward Eden’s house, dodging trees and thick ferns as I hustled through the soggy, forested wetland adjacent to their property. From there, I skirted the length of their driveway.

As I approached the house, I saw all the lights still burned brightly behind the walls of floor-to-ceiling glass. And from behind one of the stained wood-paneled walls appeared Eden as she all but sprinted down the south end hall toward her bedroom. The bedroom wing contained more solid walls, and most of the remaining glass was obscured by either shades, draperies, or sliding window panels, all in place for privacy. But when I hedged around to the back of the house, the rear glass door in the master bedroom was still as Eden had left it earlier, with the custom silk drapes open to the dark lake beyond.

Most of the terrace lighting on that end of the house was off, and with Eden’s bedroom lights on, it was easy to see within, yet remain undetected in the darkness outside. I ran through the drizzle over the estate grounds, moving as close to the door as I could while lingering outside the circle of light beyond the edge of the large, stone terrace. I was hopeful it would provide the perfect vantage point to observe Eden’s husband. I refused to think of it as spying, not when she might be at risk should her husband find out about us. My surveillance was purely to make sure she remained safe. That’s what I told myself.

I couldn’t see her at first, but I knew she had to be in there somewhere, probably in the bathroom. I stooped low and hid behind the terrace sitting wall, but I stopped and sank to my knees when I saw Eden’s husband stroll sedately into the room, stumbling a bit as if he were drunk. He steadied himself with a hand on the nightstand then straightened up as he stared for several long moments at the massive bed dominating the room. After running his hand along the rumpled comforter, he turned his head toward the master bathroom. With quicker, more determined steps, he marched out of sight. I couldn’t see into the bathroom. All the windows were obscured by heavy shades. I waited outside, my heart pounding in concern. He’d stood there staring at the disheveled bed for a long time. Was he suspicious? Had he guessed what had taken placed there not thirty minutes ago?

Anxiety twisted through my chest as I waited, so I couldn’t have been more relieved when, a few minutes later, Eden rushed back into the bedroom, though she was only half-dressed. She closed the bedroom door then tossed some clothing on the bed and started to change. She faced the glass door, her nerves evident as she yanked her shirt over her head and wrestled with the bra clasp at her back. Though I knew she couldn’t, I willed her to see me through the murky, rain-spattered glass, to know I was there in the darkness, close by and waiting to assist her should things take a turn for the worse.

I wished I could just walk in and unfasten her lacy bra, the same one she’d teased me with only a few short hours ago. But just as I imagined my hands at her back, Eden’s husband reappeared, strolling unhurriedly through the room and coming to rest behind her. I thought I saw Eden stiffen as he reached up and loosened the undergarment with the ease of someone long familiar. At least, I
hoped
she stiffened, that his touch repulsed her. But it was hard to tell through the mottled glass. All I could see was her standing there, while he slowly eased the straps from her shoulders and pushed the bra away and onto the floor.

He looked down, leaned over, and picked something up. It was Eden’s panties, the ones I’d ripped from her body in my haste to claim her. He held them up in front of Eden, and she snatched them away as she turned to face him. I could no longer see her face, but it looked as though they were talking. I grew worried when he drew her attention to the bed behind her, but then he started to caress her skin. I expected her to shirk away, yet she did not. She just stood there, naked except for her panties. She didn’t attempt to hide herself or get away at all. In fact, she rested her hands against his chest when he leaned in for a kiss. He chuckled at something I assumed she’d said to him, and it felt like a knife twisting in my gut. Then she leaned back, giving him room to taste the flesh at her neck.

I looked away as nausea rolled around my stomach, threatening to lurch up into my throat. How could she let him do that when she’d just promised me she wouldn’t? Was it to ease his suspicions? Surely Eden was smart enough to find a different way. But maybe her fear of losing her precious house and all the pretty things inside overrode any promise she’d made. Maybe I was just a diversion for her, or a way to make her husband jealous so he’d notice her again. Perhaps I was merely her pawn.

The thought made my chest hurt, like that old rock was burning a hole straight through me again. I took a deep breath and tried to convince myself she wasn’t that duplicitous, but how could I be sure when she was cheating on her husband of twenty years with me? There was no way I could be, and when I looked back up and saw Eden’s husband burrow his mouth into her neck as he reached between her legs, I ran.

I turned my back on her and ran away as fast as I could, slipping on the lush green grass of Eden’s perfectly manicured lawn and dashing back into the heavily wooded wetland alongside their property. The rain made the soil slick, and I skidded out several times, sliding, hands down, through the mud and slamming face first into the carpet of overgrown ferns. Each time, I regained my footing and pushed myself harder, pumping my arms and legs until my lungs felt ready to burst. And still I drove on, until, finally, with anxiety whipping at my heart, I fell to my knees, heaving for air as the scene in Eden’s bedroom played out over and over in my head.

She’d promised me! She told me I could trust her, then turned around and whored herself for her husband, all to hold onto her precious money. With the rain now buffeting hard, I pounded my fists into the soft earth again and again, unable to find any relief to the anguish blazing through my heart and tearing at my soul. What a sucker I’d been to allow myself to be used like that, to believe I stood a chance with a woman like her. She must’ve thought I was such a fool.

Self-pity burned like acid in my mouth, angering me almost as much as Eden’s betrayal. Hurt, fury, despair, loathing—they all roiled around inside me like a toxic soup. I felt it burn a path up my throat, and, before I could tamp it down, it spewed forth as I puked into the saturated soil before me, filling the crater my fists had created. My body was wracked with spasm upon spasm, until there was nothing more inside me to expel, and I was left dry-heaving with pain lashing at my abdomen and burning down my throat.

Finally, exhausted and utterly empty, I leaned back on my haunches, lifted my face upward, and, with a howl that embodied every ounce of my pain, matched the weeping sky, tear for unbearable tear.