King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) by Marie Johnston (spanish books to read txt) 📕

a sultry saunter until we met in a flurry, seeking pleasure at each other’s expense.

Yeah. Why couldn’t I do that?

He could have any woman he wanted and he’d married me. I didn’t want him to only be with me for the money. Yet I wasn’t exactly enticing him with X-rated sex.

Whatever you’re comfortable with.

He’d said that to me in the suit shop. What was he comfortable with? We shared a room, pretended our marriage was real, and then we built snowmen and watched movies together. We might be husband and wife, but we were, at best, friendly. A one-night stand, stuck together and trying to make the best of it.

There was another knock. Couldn’t a girl get any privacy in her own home?

Maybe if I had my own home, I would. But I’d need a well-paying job first to afford anything decent in the city. I had an okay-paying job, but I hadn’t worked any hours yet. Chief had been hinting hard that I should make an appearance at the office soon.

“Wait a damn minute, Pearl.”

“It’s me.” Xander’s deep rumble stirred up the butterflies in my belly.

I sank my head into my hands. The start of this day better not be a sign of how this party was going to go. “Sorry.”

“Can I get you anything?”

I was about to announce that I’d forgotten my clothes, but the words wouldn’t spill off my tongue. I’m twenty-five, dammit, not five. I don’t need a man to save me.

Obviously, I did, or I wouldn’t have this gold band on my finger.

I glanced at it for a moment before I squared my shoulders and rose. Ensuring the towel flap was tucked in above my breasts and wouldn’t fall in the middle of the hallway, I opened the door.

Xander’s gaze dipped to my cleavage, then drifted down. Yet he didn’t go running like Pearl claimed he had when he’d encountered her in the hallway.

I smiled with a serenity I didn’t feel. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. Just have to get dressed.”

I wasn’t the only one. His pristine white shirt hung loose over the half-buttoned slacks of his tux. A bow tie was draped over his neck. Did he need help tying it? I could probably YouTube how to do it.

He followed me back to the bedroom and as we got closer, the swirls in my stomach went wild. I wanted to shove a hand through my hair, but it’d been flat ironed and secured in an elegant bun. I dropped my arm.

“I can wait out here while you finish up,” Xander said quietly.

The image of him lingering outside my door, looking bored and sexy, was enough to get me past the last hurdle of shyness. He’d already seen everything, and I didn’t need my parents questioning this whirlwind relationship they had readily accepted.

“No. Come in. You can help with my zipper.” How did I manage to sound so casual? I had to drop this towel to put that dress on. Though I’d rather drop this towel and take his shirt all the way off and run my hands over his rock-hard abs.

We slept next to each other, but I couldn’t bring myself to find out if our chemistry had been that off the charts or if it’d been the hard cider. Having sex would complicate our simple arrangement. Stay married. Get the trust.

I crossed to the closet where my almost-a-wedding dress hung. Mother had exquisite taste. The color wasn’t so white that I’d mock the virginal bride look while washing myself out, and the silver butterfly accents running crosswise from shoulder to waist picked up the colors around it. In my room, they had a hint of sapphire, and the thread connecting them took on a brown hue. The effect paid homage to my love of nature and was Mother’s way of ensuring I didn’t snub the dress.

The tulle on the skirt was loose enough that I’d be comfortable and could leave the Spanx in the drawer. It was sleeveless and the bodice had a wraparound appearance that stopped at the waistband. I could even wear a seminormal bra.

Mother knew what she was doing.

Sneaking a peek out of the corner of my eye at Xander, I relaxed. His back was turned as he tucked his shirt into his slacks. I used the moment to toss my towel in the laundry and slip on white lace underwear and a matching bra.

Taking the dress down, I slipped it over my head. I got lost in the poofy skirt and struggled with the zipper. Whispers of fabric could just as well be shouts while I searched for the elusive flap of the zipper.

“Here.”

Xander’s wall of heat hit me and I froze. His capable hands picked through the fabric until he found what I couldn’t. He undid the zipper and bunched the dress up, then held it up to help me slip it over my head.

I suppressed a shiver as his fingertips grazed my shoulder. “Help women into fancy dresses often?”

The breath of his chuckle wafted over my nape as he worked to straighten the material in the back. “You’re the first, but maybe I missed my calling. Hold still.”

I did and he zipped up the back and hooked the zipper. I exhaled. The fit was perfect.

Neither of us moved for a heartbeat. He traced his fingers over the fabric, brushing my skin. I swayed back, seeking his heat, and my eyelids drifted shut. I missed his touch. Our night on the couch had included layers of blankets and clothing, not skin on skin.

He dipped his head down, his lips grazing the bare part of my shoulder. With only the faint touch of his lips, I was ready to strip down and demand he put his hands all over me until we were both shaking. It scared me more that not only was the sexual explosion between us real, but it was more powerful without the dulling effects of alcohol.

“Xander,” I whispered, not knowing what to say.

He