Rule's Property (The House of Rule Book 2) (20 page)

She hadn't felt him put them there, and she didn't know how she felt about him taking the liberty. But the fact that what they'd done last night had made her his wife?
Nothing but tingles all over
.

She sighed again. If only she could just go with the flow.

And then it kind of hit her. Why couldn't she go with the flow? The marriage was consummated now; there was no question of an annulment. Granted, there were a few other reasons in the twenty-first century where an annulment was allowed; and although Courtney certainly agreed that Nick's touch made her insane, she didn't think an insanity plea would fly.

Getting out of bed, she peeled off the rings and carefully placed them on the bedside table. She wasn't going to give in that easily; Nick still deserved everything she couldn't give him; thinking about children was like an open would in her heart, and she for sure wasn't ready to tell the family yet. Going through to the shower, she wondered what the day would bring.

****

Nick glanced inside his--
their
bedroom when he heard the shower running. Walking fully into the room, he stood still and inhaled the sweet, lingering scent of Courtney.
His wife
. He let the inner peace of knowing she was here, at least for now, travel down and settle in his system.

He took a breath and looked at the mussed-up bed where so many of his deepest fantasies had come to life during the dark of the night. He couldn't contain a wicked, pleased smile.

And then his eyes fell to the bedside table and he saw the gleaming bands of gold that once again, she'd tossed aside.

His mood deflated, irritation in its purest form gripping him by the throat and bleeding down his spine. He felt a maddening rush of resentment rise up and seize him, threatening to break down the last bit of discipline and patience he'd tried so hard to maintain.

Being considerate and gentle only got a man so far.

Fuck this shit.

She wanted to do battle?

He'd give her a war.

****

The following week was hell on Nick's nerves. Every night after they'd eaten the evening meal where they had no meaningful conversation, he picked Courtney up and carried her through to his suite and made love to her.

Making love to her was the only way he knew how to communicate with her these days. He tried to get it to sink into her head. He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her, not just today, but forever.

Although he didn't say those exact words, he thought his feelings had to be clear.

Damn straight, he knew his feelings were clear to her.

But it never fucking failed. He'd slip his rings onto her finger after she'd fallen asleep, but every morning, he'd find them on the bedside table.

The situation was slowly driving him out of his fucking mind.

****

When Saturday came, Courtney sat in a booth beside Nick at a small bistro on the west side of town. They were trying to have a leisurely lunch, but it was obvious that they were both stiff and unhappy.

She knew none of this could be easy for him, but this afternoon, he seemed more upset than usual. Was it because she'd taken her rings off again this morning? He had to know that it was her one rebellion that said she hadn't settled into this marriage of theirs.

Last night, he'd been so content and she understood why. She'd told him she loved him twice during the night. She hadn't been able to help herself, he'd made love to her with an adoration she'd felt clear to her bones. But that hadn't stopped her from removing her rings this morning.
Stupid, confused woman
. She couldn't blame him for being upset with her. She was upset with herself.

And now, although he tried to contain it, there was no question that Nick was pissed.

She looked across the restaurant where a young couple with two little kids were being seated. The children were loud and boisterous and when she glanced back at Nick, he was contemplating the family with a pensive, almost wistful expression on his face.

Courtney's insides clenched with pain. As she reached for her glass of Diet Coke, what she saw in his expression was so upsetting to her that her fingers began trembling. A second later, the glass slipped from her hand and ice and cola spilt all over the table and then, to her horror, all over Nick.

He looked back to her, undoubtedly reading the emotion on her face that she couldn't conceal.

Ignoring the sticky liquid running down his shirt and seeping into his jeans, his eyes grew dark and stormy.
"I don't need children,"
he hissed as he downed the last of the water in his glass.

She swallowed but didn't answer, and as they'd already finished their meal, Nick paid the bill and began to escort her out. As they passed through the vestibule of the restaurant before hitting the main doors, Courtney glanced at the rack of newspapers and flyers that were grouped together. One rack held free copies of a real-estate magazine that featured apartments for lease, and she made a mental note of it, knowing that if she intended to make a move out of the marriage, it would undoubtedly be easier sooner rather than later.

As she glanced back up, Nick was watching her carefully, a mask of fury on his features. As she continued to walk, she knew it wasn't her imagination that the hand he held at her spine seemed to become more controlling.

When they got back home and walked inside the penthouse, Nick's keys hit the table beside the door and his fingers clenched around her wrist. "I'm going to go take a quick shower and when I get back, you better be ready to talk. Understand?"

Courtney took a deep breath and could do the only thing she was capable of at that moment. She nodded her head.

****

Five minutes later, Nick walked out of the bathroom, barefoot, dressed in jeans and nothing else. Running a towel through his hair, he left the bedroom, intent on a showdown with Courtney.

He was so pissed, he could taste it.

They had shit that needed settling between them, and it was happening now, this instant. As he walked through the apartment, it hit him immediately.

She'd left.

Cursing several saints, God, and his mother, Nick picked up his phone and tried Courtney's cell. She didn't answer.

Motherfucker.

He was completely dressed and had his keys in his hands not three minutes later. Trying his best not to panic or to be pissed at himself for pushing her too far and too fast, he went down to the parking garage and found that her car was missing from its usual space.

Cursing under his breath, he took a wild guess and drove to his mother's house. When he saw Courtney's little red Volvo sitting in the circular driveway, he couldn't contain the feeling of relief that bled through his system. Relief, blending with raw, territorial anger.

He walked inside on silent feet and found both his mother and Courtney in the living room. Courtney's back was to him, but his mother spied him and she gave him a smile that seemed to be trying to communicate something to him, but he didn't understand what it was. "Nick, sweetheart." She began patting the seat next to her on the sofa, which was across from the chair where Courtney sat. "Come join us."

"Sure," he tossed out, but walked to the sideboard first. He didn't really need a drink, didn't want one even, what he needed was a moment to survey the room and get a grip on his temper and a handle on Courtney's mood. Under the guise of mixing a drink, he was able to do that, at least enough to breath evenly. As he prepared a very weak bourbon and water, he asked, "Anybody want a drink?"

Both women declined, so he strolled to the sofa and kissed his mother on the cheek. "What's going on?" he asked as normally as possible, his gaze trailing over to Courtney, who turned ashen as he sat down. His lips flattened as his mood deflated another notch.

"Nothing much, darling," Justine answered. "Courtney's tired of running back and forth between here and the penthouse and she's trying to decide where to live," his mother told him with what seemed to be a forced nonchalance.

"Is she now?"
Nick lifted a single eyebrow and stared across the coffee table at his intended target.
Moving out of the penthouse?
Oh, that shit was so not happening
. From his position on the sofa, he could stare all he wanted
at his wife
, without his mother noticing, and he did so now. As he kept Courtney within his sights, he took a healthy drink, and then balanced the glass on his knee. "Obviously there's plenty of room for both of us at the penthouse."

"That's exactly what I told her," his mother replied. "And since she's working in the tower, why in the world would she want to drive way over here just to sleep at night?" After his mother said those words, she turned to Courtney. "Darling, you don't have to worry about me. I learned how to enjoy living on my own during your years at college. I've been doing it quite a while now. Of course, you can live here if you want, I'd love to have you, but don't you think it would be inconvenient to have to make the drive twice a day?"

As Nick listened to his mother's spiel and waited for Courtney to respond, it occurred to him that he'd been right in his previous assessment a few months back.
His mother knew about them.
Obviously, she didn't know about their marriage, but she knew there was something going on between the two of them. And because she was trying to talk Courtney into staying at the penthouse, Nick also could see that his mother approved. So for that reason, he'd forgive her for her machinations.
Poor Damian, he'd been caught in the middle of all of this. His mother's ploy had been only that, a ploy designed to make Nick jealous.
But now he had to wonder, was Courtney finally getting it too? She
had
to realize that his mother was actually trying to push the two of them together, and
not
Damian and Courtney, as she'd pretended before that damn party several months ago.

That was certainly going to work in his favor tonight.

Watching Courtney now, sitting demurely in her seat trying her damn best not to meet his eyes, Nick felt his aggression rise. But being the
considerate
husband that he was, he decided to spare her any more grief in front of his mother. Besides, he'd had enough; he needed to get her alone.

Setting his drink on the glass-topped coffee table, he stood to his feet. Not caring what his mother would think, in fact knowing she would only approve his move, he walked to Courtney and snagged her hand, pulling her from her seat. "Let's go take a look at your bedroom and see if the idea of you living here is even feasible. You need a workstation now, and a bigger closet." His mother's home was so massive that he knew his words were ludicrous, but he didn't really give a shit, they were only an excuse, and with that, he pulled Courtney from the room and dragged her all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom she'd always used.

Shutting the door behind them, twisting the lock, he leaned against it and crossed his arms over his chest. Courtney walked to the center of the room, obviously trying to ignore him, but Nick could see her frame subtly trembling. His temples began to throb as she went to the bed where she picked up a robe, the only single item out of place in the entire room, and hung it in her closet. Then she moved to the bedside table and straightened the picture of her parents that was always kept there. When she continued to ignore him by moving to her chest of drawers and opening the top drawer, he'd had enough.

"
Courtney,"
he demanded flatly.

She continued to fiddle with the contents of her drawer as if she were alone in the room.

"Courtney," he said again.
"Look at me."

With an ostentatious show of reluctance meant to piss him off, she turned to face him. And it worked for a split second until he saw what lurked in her eyes. And then his temper died as his heart clenched.
Need
. Pure and simple. Need.
For him
. Knowing he wasn't the only one feeling anguish, he swallowed as his muscles relaxed a small bit. "Come on, baby. Let's go home."

Exhaling a sad sigh, she shook her head.

At her obstinate refusal, he attempted to temper both his voice and his impatience. "Sweetheart. We'll work this out, but we're going to need some privacy to do that."

"There's nothing to work out," she said softly, looking at the floor.

"Well, since you're
my wife,
I'm going to have to disagree."

Her eyes lifted. "That's not your choice, Nick. I get it a say in this."

Pissed now, he sucked in oxygen through gritted teeth. "No, I don't think you do."

Her eyes sharpened. "Don't be that way."