Paper Marriage Proposition

Fourteen

He wanted to see her.
    One night, one long board meeting, three phone calls, one conference call and two coffees later, Frederic Arnault wanted to see his wife in the middle of the morning.
    Holy God, he’d never felt like this. Superhuman, all powerful, complete.
    In the six years before her he’d needed nothing but himself. Now it was early morning, and he stood in his office by the sunlit window, remembering how he’d woken up with a warm, snuggly Lisa less than four hours ago. His body hungered still, an animal awakened and demanding to take every need and craving not appeased for years. He wanted her again—right now.
    But he would not be satisfied with just her body. He wanted something else.
    The family he’d been robbed of.
    Her trust, her respect, hell, her love.
    He wanted it.
    He’d watched her hair, thick and lustrous, tumble past her shoulders as she lay asleep, and he’d memorized her lips, wet and plump and desirable, and his face had tightened with pent-up need as he stood in his Boss suit, dressed for work and unwilling to leave.
    She’d stirred in bed like a sleepy kitten and stretched out her arms above her head, her breasts peeping out from under the covers. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. He wanted to bend over and gently take the pink peaks of her nipples and suckle her, but instead he sat next to her and placed a hand on her hips, caressing her.
    “Rough night?” he asked, huskily. He caught her scent in the sheets, mingled with his, and he felt light-headed.
    Lisa made a sultry sound and rolled to her side to face him. Her smile was endless, her cheeks flushed. “I still think I dreamed it. You?” Her voice was throaty with sleep—he liked it.
    The urge to taste her again rippled in his insides. He bent, smelling her, inhaling her, a sensation he recognized as anticipation heating his blood and groin as he kissed her lips. “I’ve got to go.”
    She pulled him to her. A prickle of excitement tightened every inch of his body as their mouths tangled, so he kissed her harder. But his thoughts intruded, tormenting his insides. Jungkook must be taken care of….
    He set himself free. “I’ve got to go,” he repeated, more sternly.
    She sat up with a frown, glancing at the clock. “What time is it?”
    “Seven-thirty.”
    He watched her tie the ribbon of her wrinkled gown, and his body screamed for him to rip off his tie and jump back in bed with her.
    He forced himself to take several steps to the door. “I pride myself in being the first at the office. I’m late as it is.”
    Her eyes twinkled with laughter. “So everyone will know you spent last night in bed with me, then.”
    Only I’ll know, he thought. And I’ll know it all day.
    Lust vibrated inside him at the thought, tightening his legs, his groin, as he watched her walk over on those amazing bare legs. “You’re my wife,” he said, gutturally. “From this moment on, you sleep in my bed.”
    Instead of protesting, she nodded slowly, which only served to heighten his desire to alarming levels. They’d trusted each other completely, no walls, no deceit. She’d told him things, about how she’d wanted him, and he’d told her things, too.
    “Maybe you should stay awhile,” she said in a wispy voice, fingering his collar. “And I’ll make you breakfast, Frederic .”
    Court hearing, he thought as he gazed fixedly at her soft, delicious mouth. Need to schedule the court hearing. Then Lisa leaves and I go back to the way I was before. No! I won’t allow it. She’s mine—she’s staying with me. Me.
    God, but she was caring and warm and giving. He could stay with her all morning.
    But he didn’t. He hadn’t.
    He’d exerted every ounce of willpower, told her to go buy something for court and had made it to the office on time before his brothers. On time to his meetings, to give Beth what she wanted. Her son.
    He’d never been so determined to nail Jungkook before—as though that one action would make his every unknown dream come true.
    From 9:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m., Frederic  had closeted himself with his lawyers and brothers to review the evidence they had on Jungkook so far. Mason, the attorney at family law, assured him that with the taped confession Julian had wheedled out of Jungkook’s head nurse, the odds were on their side. Not to mention, the staggering evidence of health fraud stacking up on Jungkook’s back. The man was embezzling pharmaceuticals with the help of a wanted Mexican smuggler. He was robbing health insurance companies by duplicating claims, and prescribing expensive, dangerous medications the patients didn’t really need.
    The guy was a con man, a liar and a fraud with an M.D.
    Once they’d finished their discussion and wrapped up their plans, Frederic  attempted to delve back into work, but kept thinking about the tousled siren he’d left this morning in bed.
    He wanted to feel confident about the hearing, but too much rode on that one day, one decision, to find any ease for the stiff muscles in his back. He felt tense, primed like a prized fighting bull—and damned hot at the thought of being with his wife again.
    He wanted to see her. Smack in the middle of the day, he wanted to see his wife.
    He picked up the phone and dialed the house, but when Martha mentioned Bethany had gone out with Thomas to the mall, he rang for his assistant.
    “Donna, I’m taking an early lunch with my wife. Reroute all my calls.”