His Agenda: Veiled Obsession Part 5

He raised an eyebrow and then his gaze searched for the ring on my finger. He nodded. "That's great, congratulations." There was something in his eyes. Hurt? Disappointment? "I'm sure your husband won't mind if you had coffee with an old friend ... for old time's sake?" He looked around at the racks of bras and panties. "Not converse inside a shop filled with s.e.xy lingerie." A small smile tipped his lips, just enough to turn my knees to pudding. d.a.m.n, he was hot.

My heart rose and then crashed hard at my feet. "Actually ..." I hugged my purse to myself and looked past him at Nolan who stood at the car his gaze fixed on the door of the lingerie store. He was now on the phone, "he will."

Dustin shook his head and then nodded. "Fine. How about we exchange numbers, keep in touch?"

I desperately wanted to say no. I had to refuse, but my old, carefree self wouldn't let me. The man I had liked so much in high school had returned in my life and he wanted nothing more than my number. It didn't mean anything, right? We might not even end up calling each other. People exchanged numbers all the time and sometimes they lost them. Before the reprimanding side of me took over, I pulled a receipt out of my Gucci bag, and using my purse as a table, quickly scribbled my number down. I handed it to him quickly, making sure his fingers didn't touch mine. His presence was enough to drive me crazy. I wouldn't be able to handle his touch.

Dustin grinned brightly as he folded the receipt and stuffed it into his breast pocket. He leaned forward. "I'll call you," he whispered. "I never could forget you Haley Bradley. I'll keep in touch." He kissed me on the cheek and disappeared out of the boutique, leaving me behind with an empty hole in my heart.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

I sighed with relief when I entered the bedroom and Jude wasn't there. Then I felt the sting of guilt for not wanting to see my own husband. I sank down onto the bed and touched my earlobe, the ear Dustin had whispered into earlier.

I closed my eyes and for a moment I felt the whisper of Dustin's words and his breath caressing my ear and cheek. I inhaled his ocean-fresh cologne. Fire flared inside my heart and I blushed. Eyes still closed, I imagined him as the pimply boy he used to be and tried to connect that with the s.e.xy man he had turned into. The same feeling his presence in high school had elicited in me was still there, that p.r.i.c.kle on my skin like electricity.

I sighed again deeply and felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. My eyes flew open and my heart jumped to my throat. Jude was standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed.

He watched me with an intensity that made me feel as if he were gazing straight into my hidden thoughts, as if he could see I had been thinking of another man.

"Jude ... hmm ... hi." I stood up and turned my back to him, unpacking the shopping bags, hiding my flushed cheeks.

He was quiet for a few beats, making me nervous. When he spoke, his voice was not his but that of a stranger, the man that frightened the living c.r.a.p out of me.

"I have this feeling that something has changed." He moved farther into the room until he was standing right behind me, his heat touching me. "You don't love me anymore. Tell me I'm wrong."

For a moment I wondered if "anymore" was the right word. Had I really loved Jude or just talked myself into loving him out of grat.i.tude?

Jude was waiting for an answer, but the words froze inside my throat. Dustin had reminded me of the girl I had lost, my past self. He had been yet another reminder that I was stuck in a life I didn't want, a marriage that was killing me.

"Say something," Jude whispered in the same ear as Dustin earlier, but his words were harsh. "You still love me, Haley, am I correct?"

Before I could think of what to say, something to appease him, a crack broke the silence between us and fire exploded on my scalp, pain like that caused by sharp needles. Suddenly I was yanked backward, stumbling into his arms. I yelped with agony and he released my ponytail. Then as I caught my breath he spun me around to face him. He hugged me tight. Too tight. My breath came in quick, shallow gasps as he pressed me against his hard body.

I managed to force a whisper. "Let me go."

"Never," he said gruffly into my hair, and I heard him inhale sharply. "You belong to me, Haley. Forever. Don't you forget that. I own you. You love me. Say it, baby." His voice dared me to say no.

"I ..." I croaked as he squeezed me tighter, as though attempting to force the words out of my mouth. I pushed against his muscular chest. No chance. My strength couldn't match his. "Love ... You."

Apparently satisfied, he released me and shoved me so hard I fell to the floor beside the bed. "Good."

He took a step toward me and I curled up into a ball, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. This was definitely a different man standing before me. A stranger.

"Now, I want you to show me how much you love me." He grabbed my ponytail again and yanked me to my feet, tossing me on the bed.

Then he was on top of me, tugging my skirt and pantyhose down, spreading my legs while unzipping his trousers.

Pain choked me when he roughly entered me and started to grind into me, his sweat dripping onto my face, his face stone cold, his eyes dark and unreadable. In a flash, it occurred to me what was happening. He had no intention of making love to me. He was raping me, taking what he believed was his. My feelings, my emotions didn't matter. He was making a statement, warning me that he would hurt me if I disobeyed him.

The tears that slid down my cheekbones and into my ears were hot and unhindered. The harder he slammed into me, the deeper he plunged, the more I trembled under his weight from fear and pain. In that moment, another piece of me splintered and broke.

He held my hands tightly above my head, pinning me down with his body, making it impossible for me to move. I could only pray that it would end soon.

When he finally came, he slumped on top of me and groaned deeply. Then he pulled out, and zipped up his pants. He walked out of the room without looking back.

As I lay on our bed curled up into a ball, smarting from his touch, I knew something for certain. Marrying Jude Macknight had been a dangerous mistake. But some mistakes can't be fixed. I belonged to him. I had no choice but to pay the price.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

I looked forward to days when Jude went to the office, when I could steal a few hours of peace. These days, unfortunately, were becoming rare.

I stood at the bathroom window and watched his car pull up. He was back home early for the third time this week.

I watched him climb out his Jeep, looking sharp and precise as usual. Even from upstairs, I could see there was not a curl out of place and not a wrinkle on his dark suit, which stood out against the late summer leaves in the sunlight. He was always so put together, while I was falling apart. Just watching him made my stomach twist with disgust.

Why couldn't he go away for a while? He hadn't been on a business trip in two months. Every time he was home, my stomach was constantly in knots and I walked on eggsh.e.l.ls. Even when he was out of sight, inside his home office, I felt his presence near me.

Since the day he'd raped me, things had only worsened between us. He hardly spoke to me at anymore and when he did, I was usually so surprised I didn't know what to say to him. The only connection was s.e.x. A connection I wanted to break desperately. He was now determined more than ever to get me pregnant.

s.e.x with him was now rougher, shorter, raw, and so frequent that my body forgot how to rid itself of the aches he left behind. Every chance he got, he pinched me, slapped me, bit me. Anything that made me cry out in agony. It disgusted me to think that hurting me turned him on.

He took what he wanted, when he wanted it, and didn't care whether I was up for it or not. My needs, my feelings, no longer mattered. Every time he entered me, I became less his wife and more his s.e.x slave. A toy with no feelings.

Wincing from the memory of his firm grip on my bruised thigh this morning, I unwrapped the towel from around my body and took a long, hot shower, scrubbing myself until my skin was raw. Disobeying his rule, I had locked the bathroom. What more could he do to me that he hadn't done already?

When I was done, I pulled on a bathrobe and went down to the kitchen for breakfast. Jude was probably in his office because I didn't b.u.mp into him.

As soon as Lin saw me walk in, she turned away from the door and busied herself at the stove. "Mrs. Macknight, I make eggs, bacon, okay?" Over the past few weeks, I noticed that Lin had started asking me what I wanted to eat instead of just cooking what Jude wanted. She was doing little things to show she cared.

I sank into one of the stools at the marble kitchen island. "You don't have to do that, Lin. I can make my own breakfast." To h.e.l.l with what Jude thought. A part of me just didn't care anymore. "Take the day off."

"Thank you, Mrs. Macknight." Lin mumbled and quickly left the kitchen, her gaze still averted.

My face grew hot with humiliation. She knew. She knew what was going on, what Jude was doing to me. Lin had surely figured out that I was a prisoner in my own home. That I was trapped in a place I couldn't bear to be but also couldn't leave. If Jude hurt me under our own roof, what would he do to me if I walked out the door and left him?

Over the past month, I had been tempted to risk it, to disappear somewhere where he couldn't find me. But he had money while I had nothing to my name-he now controlled every dime I spent, so saving was not an option. He would be hard to hide from. And he knew my fears. As soon as I left, the first thing he would probably do was call the cops on me, put me in jail where I should have been in the first place.

Once I heard the front door shut, some of the tension rolled off my shoulders and I poured myself a gla.s.s of freshly pressed orange juice. To distract myself from thoughts of him, I reached for the Serendipity Daily, which lay folded next to the water pitcher. I flipped through it absentmindedly until I came to an article about a girl who was found in a ditch a few nights ago, raped, and then strangled to death. They said she must have been there for some weeks. The man arrested for the murder of the twenty-five-year-old woman was her on-and-off boyfriend. Just another reminder that the people closest to us are the ones who hurt us the most. The motive was jealousy.

Tears dripped from my face, drenching the newspaper. As sobs engulfed me, I hugged the paper to my chest, wishing I could offer comfort to the dead girl.

A sudden, chilling fear nagged at the back of my mind. If I didn't do everything Jude wanted, I could end up just like that woman. Crimes of pa.s.sion were pretty common. And people are not always who we think they are.

My mind drifted to Dustin. What if he had changed too? Was he still the kind person he'd been in high school, or had life changed him? I hadn't heard from him since meeting him two months ago, but I thought of him every day. Sometimes for just a moment, and other times for hours before I cried myself to sleep. Thinking about him made me feel safe. He was the only connection to my old life.

Maybe it was for the best that he hadn't contacted me. I was not the same person I used to be. I had done terrible things I couldn't walk away from. Who would want to get tangled up in my problems? Besides, if Jude found out that I'd given another man my number, he might just kill me.

I was slowly getting the feeling that he was capable of much more than he was showing me. He was a monster at heart.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

I sat on the porch with my arms around me, begging nature to soothe me.

Spring had made way for summer and beautiful, rich colors surrounded our grounds. But I couldn't enjoy the beauty as my heart shriveled.

The horror of my life dragged on and I finally lost myself. I didn't recognize my husband anymore and I didn't know the woman he'd turned me into. Jude became more controlling with each day. He ordered me to do what he wanted, told me where to go and how long to stay, and he had s.e.x with me constantly. Or was it rape? I was married to him and denying him s.e.x had terrible consequences. Except, I never wanted to sleep with him anymore. Lying in the same bed with the monster he had become tortured me, and my pain was reflected in my nightmares.

Jude now insisted I sleep naked every night. He said he wanted to feel me, to have me anytime without any distractions. And he did. Sometimes a sharp pain between my legs would wake me from a deep sleep and his weight would pin me down to the bed as he moved in and out, f.u.c.king me hard, my face pressed into the mattress, my air supply sometimes cut off.

Other times, he'd literally drag me out of sleep and lead me to the living room where he switched on the wall-sized TV. He'd watch p.o.r.n while he had s.e.x with me, my screams from pain, masked by the voices of pleasure coming from the hidden speakers. s.e.x with him was always rough, painful, and unexpected. But something had changed recently. He was always gentle afterward now, running me a bath to help relieve my aches or holding me until he thought I'd fallen asleep. Even though I hardly slept anymore.

Most mornings, especially those following a brutal night, I woke up to find a sparkling piece of jewelry blinking at me on top of the bedspread. His way of apologizing.

Jude Macknight, my knight in rusted armor, had become two different men in one. The man that hurt and destroyed me, and the man that comforted me. If only that comfort didn't hurt so much more. It reminded me of the man he used to be.

Why was I surprised that Jude had changed? People change all the time. I had experienced it firsthand.

My father, the man whose eyes had twinkled every time he'd looked at me, the man who had cuddled up in my bed next to me when imaginary monsters hid under my bed, the man who told me he would never leave me, just woke up one day, a changed man, and walked out of my life.

The day he left had been a beautiful summer's day. As I'd sat on the doorstep, waiting for him to come home, the sun had sprinkled my skin and top of my head with its purest gold. The breeze stole the sweet scent of the honeysuckles in our backyard and wrapped it around me.

As the hours ticked on, I fanned the skirt of my blue birthday dress, the one with multi-colored b.u.t.terflies lining the hem, the one he gave me on my last birthday.

He never came back home. In the end it was him who had turned into a b.u.t.terfly and flown away. I had found a way to deal with him leaving our lives, but when my mother and I found out a few months later that he had committed suicide by throwing himself in front of a speeding truck, my world was changed forever.

My father had changed. Just like my mother had, following his departure. Just like Jude had. Just like I had. The only constant it seemed, was change. And the pain of that realization burned into my heart like acid, burning a hole in my heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

The smell of roses slipped into my nostrils, and I opened my eyes slowly, my blurred world coming into focus. My gaze met Jude's. He sat next to me on the bed. I looked over his shoulder and took in the light streaming in from the window. It had to be around 9 a.m. and he was still in bed, not working.

He was usually dressed by this time and out of the house or holed up inside his office. But today he still wore his blue and white striped pajamas. A heavy wooden tray lay on his lap, on it a cup of coffee, a single rose, and a small wrapped rectangular box on it.

"Happy anniversary, my love." He bent to kiss to me.

I allowed his lips to touch mine but nothing remotely sensual pa.s.sed between us, nothing from my end at least.

"Won't you say it back?" His voice was gentle, eyes expectant.

Did he really expect me to love him after he had destroyed our marriage and shattered any remnants of love I might have felt for him? What was there to celebrate? "This is not a good day, Jude. Let's just pretend it's another day."

He placed the tray next to him on the bed. When he looked back at me, annoyance covered his features. "I love you, you love me. This is the day we got married. True love has to be celebrated. But first things first." He picked up the wrapped box and handed it to me. "Open it." He looked kind again.

During the first year of marriage, I'd enjoyed the little surprises, the gifts, his love. Now, as I reached for the box, disgust was all I felt. I wanted to throw it back in his face but I didn't want his eyes to darken to the point where he would be forced to hurt me. I sat up and pulled at the ribbon, occasionally looking up to see him watching my fingers, as he ran a hand up and down my leg.

I peeled away soft pink tissue paper, expecting to see jewelry. What I found shocked me. A pink and very familiar box. "Jude, what's this?"

"Before we leave to go and have breakfast at the Damor Hotel, I want us to find out if we have an anniversary gift awaiting us, to make our day that much more special." Annoyance disappeared from his face and his eyes sparkled.

Filled with sudden rage, I shoved it back at him and climbed out of bed, headed for the bathroom. Before I could close it, he slipped in, still carrying the offending box.

"Take the pregnancy test." Evil dripped from his tone.

I s.n.a.t.c.hed the pregnancy test from his hand. "Fine." My voice lacked emotion. I waited for him to leave the bathroom and give me privacy, but instead he folded his muscular arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe. He wanted to make sure I really did it.

What would he do to me if he found out I was not pregnant, that I was still on the pill? Would he pull me by the hair again, slam me into something, rape me? Hurt me more than he already had? Was that even possible?

Without saying a word to him, I turned toward the toilet pot and praying silently, opened the box, taking my time, wishing the ground would swallow me. Behind me, he stirred and sighed with impatience. His body heat reached for me, and I smelled pure the evil permeating from him.

I gritted my teeth as I pulled out the white stick and pretending he wasn't in the room, I crouched down on the toilet pot. Since I wore nothing, there was no need to remove underwear or pull aside clothes.

I positioned the stick under me and closed my eyes, peed.

I heard something tear from my right side, the toilet paper. He had pulled off a sheet.

"Give it to me," he said and I opened my eyes to find him reaching for the stick with a hand that was covered by a thin layer of toilet paper. I handed it to him.

He smiled brightly then, as if what we were doing was completely normal. A happily married couple hoping to be pregnant. He kissed me on top of the head. "Have a shower and get ready for breakfast. Don't be too long. I might have some good news to share with you." He gazed at the pregnancy test.

When he left, I stepped under the shower and turned it on at full blast. Then I just stood there, my face turned up as the water slapped my skin and washed away my tears.

When I was all cried out, I ma.s.saged thick lather over my skin, starting with my neck, moving to my arms, down my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and then empty stomach.

He must have the result by now, and I was terrified to death of his reaction.