His arms are crossed over his chest—not in a relaxed posture but as if he’s studying me. In the past, I would have been fidgeting in my chair, anxious, but I don’t fear him anymore. He treats me with respect, and even though we argue now and then because of his controlling streak, most of the time we resolve our problems through discussion.
“Are you really going to study marketing? If so, you’re hired.”
“I am,” I say, smiling at the implied compliment. “I liked the program’s proposal, especially the fact that I can study from home part of the time. Being on campus isn’t for me. Maybe I started too late. Even before we got married, I didn’t see the appeal in all that college hustle.”
“So you’re disappointed with life here, then?”
I know he isn’t asking that randomly; he’s assessing me. It sounds crazy, but I have the feeling Rodrick believes I might leave at any moment, as if our marriage doesn’t matter.
It may not be based on love on his part, but for now, what we have satisfies me. Even without any clue about what he feels for me, we’re good together, and I’m happy.
“No. I like living here, and even more when we go to our castle in the Highlands on weekends.”
I can tell he’s very focused on what I’m saying, as if he wants to be sure I’m being sincere.
“Why, Jazmina?”
The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine. After two months of marriage, I already know his look, and his tone of voice, when he desires me.
I stand and walk over to him. That was what I wanted from the beginning, but sometimes I feel as if he raises a barrierbetween us. I keep trying to tear it down. I don’t think I’ll ever give up.
“Because there it’s just the two of us,” I say, spinning his chair and sitting on his lap. “It’s our special world.”
“If it’s that special, does it mean you’ll never leave?”
My heart pounds hard in my chest.
Can I swear that to him?
I’m in love with Rodrick, but giving him that guarantee means giving up my dream of being a mother someday. He doesn’t want children, and as much as I accept his honesty about it, is it fair that I stifle my desire so he can live his life the way he wants?
“It means that right now, what we have is more than I ever dreamed of.”
Chapter 44
London
Fifteen Days Later
I open the door to our apartment, expecting to hear the familiar sounds that mean Jazmina is home, but I know that at this hour she hasn’t arrived yet. On Thursdays, she goes out to dinner with Josephine, the only true friend she’s made in the West.
Married life isn’t what I imagined. My princess is far from one of those fairy-tale heroines.
After losing the shyness of the first days of living together—and despite the strict upbringing imposed by her mother—she’s growing more and more comfortable with showing me her true colors.
Jazmina is funny and even a little silly, but in an endearing way. I feel lighter since we got married. Every now and then I catch myself smiling alone in my office, remembering something she said, an ill-timed joke, surprises—like the time she tried to make our dinner and nearly set the kitchen on fire. That night, I became an involuntary firefighter,but all the mess was worth it because we ended up naked on the cold floor, me buried deep inside her body.
I thought the overwhelming attraction we felt would be the foundation of our relationship, and although it undoubtedly led me not only to choose her as my wife but also to send the rules I’d planned for my marriage of convenience straight to hell, more and more each day I accept that Jazmina is my other half.
We’re opposites in almost everything, except for our equally hellish tempers. I have no idea whether that’s a good foundation for a couple that intends to stay together indefinitely, but I know she’s what I want.
I walk through the living room without turning on the lights and sit near the window, in my favorite armchair, thinking about what we talked about the other day in my office.
When I asked her whether our special world would be enough to keep her from leaving, she didn’t answer. Maybe because she has one—and it’s not the answer I want to hear.
She’s uncertain about the future, and I think I know why.
Children.