“Well now you have plenty of time to get to know him,” Rachel said as we walked inside, her eyes scanning the house and the masculine decor with a wrinkled brow “And you definitely have to change the decor to be more warm” she added with a shake of her head “it’s masculinity at it’s finest in here.”
“I don’t even know where I’m sleeping,” I said at a loss, throwing my hands up and glancing around the house in disarray.
Rachel snorted “Isn’t it obvious. You’re sleeping in the main bedroom with him, aren’t you? How else do you expect to provide him with an heir?”
“He might want separate rooms,” I said doubtfully.
“He doesn’t strike me as the type” Rachel trilled, starting to head upstairs with one of the bags and motioning for me to follow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, following behind with a bag.
Rachel looked smug “Well he can’t seem to take his eyes off you, he doesn’t seem cold like Johnathon” she muttered “and he’s very affectionate. I suspect he’ll want you in the same room,” she said calmly, disappearing down a long hallway and stopping with a squeal.
“Here you are,” she said dropping a bag as I walked over to her and looked.
The room reminded me of Grayson. It was masculine, with dark brown furniture. The bed was kingsize, with dark grey bedding and there was very little clutter or knick-knacks. It was a little forbidding looking. I swallowed hard. Rachel didn’t look perturbed by the room at all. There was an adjoining door that I surmised must lead to a bathroom.
Rachel pulled open some dresser drawers. They were empty, as was half the wardrobe.
“See,” she said smugly “he left you room for your clothes.”
I didn’t say a word, handing her the bag as she began to pull out my clothes and expertly pack them into drawers and hang them up for me. I sat on the bed and tried hard not to think about what that bed might be used for later tonight.
“All done,” Rachel said, throwing me a glance. “What would you like to do now that you are officially moved in?”
I wrung my hands together. “I could go to work” I suggested in a small voice, feeling cowardly.
“No” Rachel denied swiftly “Today is your wedding day for heaven’s sake. You’re not working. Why don’t you do something fun? We could go shopping or you could bake something. You like baking.”
“I wouldn’t want to get the kitchen messy” I mumbled “and he might not like desserts.”
Rachel looked irritated “Johnathon really did a number on you, didn’t he? Come on,” she said sharply “You’re going to make a dessert, in your new home, in your new kitchen, for your new husband” she snapped, grabbing my hand and dragging me protesting downstairs and into the said kitchen.
I glanced around the kitchen appreciatively. Everything looked shiny and in perfect condition. The pantry was filled to the brim and so was the fridge. There was everything I could possibly need and possibilities began to whirl through my mind while Rachel stood there smirking.
“Maybe just some brownies” I mumbled, beginning to grab some ingredients as Rachel huffed out a laugh “It might sweeten him up.”
“More like you’re hoping to put him in a good mood for the bedroom” Rachel quipped knowingly as I blushed.
“What if I don’t please him?” I asked her, stopping with a bowl in my arms, my nerves getting the better of me.
Rachel looked confused “Not please him? What do you mean Flair?” she asked, sitting down at the kitchen counter, her long legs crossing at the ankle on the bar stool.
I blushed, putting the bowl on the counter, and avoided her gaze, staring at my fingers.
“Flair, what do you mean?” Rachel asked again, a little sharper now.
“It’s just, you know,” I laughed awkwardly, sliding my eyes away from her face, “I’ve only ever been with one man, and well…” I trailed off, not sure how to put it.
Rachel’s eyes were turning glacial now. I knew she wasn’t about to let this go and I cursed myself for even saying anything. Why had I? My anxiety was skyrocketing now and my best friend was about to find out something embarrassing about my life. My cheeks turned a beetroot red. I wished the floor would open up and swallow me.
“Just because you’ve only been with one man doesn’t mean anything,” Rachel said, narrowing her eyes “Why would you think that you won’t please him?”
She was like a dog with a bone. I could feel sweat beading on my forehead. I coughed. “It’s not important,” I said nervously, reaching for the bowl.
Rachel’s hand shot out and took it, moving it away from me, her gaze fixated on me.
“Don’t even think about it Flair Oakes” she said warningly, her voice dangerous “You’re going to tell me what you mean right now or so help me god…” she trailed off threateningly as I gulped.
“It’s embarrassing” I whispered.
She stared at me, hard, refusing to let me off the hook. I stared at the floor.
“I’m worried I won’t please him because I couldn’t please Johnathon” I mumbled.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.