King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) by Marie Johnston (great novels .TXT) 📗

cinched at her waist, but the way she twisted and bent gave me a stilted, yet erotic show. Way more erotic than any robot dance I’d ever seen before.

Pearl giggled. “Better watch out, Sav. It looks like your husband wants to consummate the marriage right now.”

Savvy froze and peeked over her shoulder. Her cheeks burned red, but she turned back to Pearl and hissed, “Oh, it’s been consummated. So. Hard.”

Pearl sputtered and guffawed.

“Pearl. Sapphire.” Mrs. Abbot’s voice whip-cracked a warning through the store.

Pearl straightened, rolling her lips in, struggling to keep from laughing.

Savvy spun around and lifted her chin. “Why dah-ling. However did the fitting go?”

That earned Savvy a glare from her mom before she turned her back on us to finish conversing with Marcus. She probably had to clear my choices before they could be purchased.

When I reached Savvy, I leaned into her. “I’ll be suited up as befits a prize stud in seventy-two hours.” My arm slipped around her waist and I kissed her neck.

A hitch in Savvy’s breath made me pull away at the same time she did. Pearl’s gaze bored into her sister, then me. For the first time in the hours since I’d met Pearl, she didn’t say anything, just went to her mom’s side.

“Sorry. It’s just . . .” Savvy played with the ends of her long ponytail hanging over her shoulder. “Sorry.”

Right. What had been magic on our wedding night was now pretend. She was willing to go only so far with the illusion. “No worries. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

I meant what I’d said. If my wife was more comfortable while I slept on the floor, so be it. But that didn’t stop my heart from sinking down to my toes. Didn’t she want more than pretend? Didn’t she want to explore the fire that had brought us together? Didn’t she want . . . me?

It was early yet, only the beginning of our marriage. I had a lot of work to do. Double if I was the only one putting in the effort.

Chapter 7

Savvy

The room was blissfully quiet. Mother had left me alone as she finished planning various festivities for the upcoming weeks. I had a reprieve from voicing my opinions on venues, color themes, and VIP attendees who meant nothing to me but everything to my parents.

I was in the library Mother had created on the first floor, a little-used room full of boring military history tomes and a desk that hadn’t seen an ass behind it for years. My sisters and I thought this room was the most unexciting space on earth, but right now, it was quiet and offered a wide view into the backyard.

Pearl stopped in the doorway. She eyed me, then the window. I ignored her devilish smirk as she danced in and peered out the window. I shifted in the wingback chair that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a Civil War–era plantation mansion. It probably had been, and no extra padding had been added either. But I’d been sitting here for an hour already.

“Stalker,” she said triumphantly and flopped into the matching chair across from me. Both seats flanked the window. For a friendly visit. For natural light while reading. Or for spying on my husband, who’d been helping our lawn service clear snow from the outdoor seating area.

It was the end of February, but Mother had insisted the backyard be as presentable as inside the house.

Xander laughed with the landscaper. I didn’t even know his name, but by now, Xander probably knew the names of the guy’s wife and children. Hell, he’d probably even been invited to their house for Easter.

I could go out there, but I never talked to the staff. I knew the names of the housekeeping staff. We exchanged pleasant greetings but nothing beyond “How are you doing today?”

We weren’t a horrible household to work for, but natural turnover made it hard to get to know people. After a lifetime of seeing familiar faces turn to strange ones, I’d eventually stopped trying.

“I’m not stalking,” I grumbled.

She curled her legs under her. “Didn’t you get enough of him last night?”

I shot her a glare. Her room was next to mine, but I knew very well that she couldn’t hear a damn thing. There was nothing to hear. Chief hadn’t made me come into work yet, but I’d been exhausted all the same. I’d collapsed in bed, thanks to the travel and emotional roller coaster of the last few days. I’d burrowed under the covers and Xander had slept on top. I could only assume he’d gone to bed shortly after I’d fallen asleep, since he’d been in the bathroom when I’d conveniently passed out.

“What?” Her expression wasn’t even trying to be innocent. “Seriously, though. I can’t believe you aren’t trying to milk him for all he’s worth—and you know damn well I’m not talking about money.”

My gaze shifted outside. Xander had produced a heavier coat from his luggage. The dark blue material did nothing to conceal his wide shoulders. And those jeans he was in hugged the muscles of his legs. The bunch and flex as he shoveled last night’s snow was mesmerizing, casting some unique spell that kept me rooted by this damn window.

Mother had forced a couple new outfits on him and not a one had included jeans. Yet that was what Xander wore.

“It wouldn’t be right,” I finally answered, my gaze lifting to his easy grin at something the other man said. Xander did the shoveling while the landscaper used a broom to sweep snow from between the crevices of the stone patio.

I waited for Mother to march into the library and ask why on earth my husband was clearing snow, but she hadn’t made one comment about the way he dressed. She had to know he was outside. She knew everything that went on in and around the house.

Pearl’s fists landed on her hips. “Why the hell not?”

Brady was deep in job hunting and couldn’t afford to meet me