<b>Chapter </b><b>41 </b>


    <b>uy </b>


    E


    Sunlight streamed through the curtains, warming my face and pulling me from a deep sleep. I blinked groggily, taking a moment to register that I was in bed, tucked beneath the covers and still wearing the ck dress fromst night.


    I had no memory of getting here. Thest thing I remembered was falling asleep in the car.


    Had Alexander carried me to bed and tucked me in?


    The thought made my stomach flutter before I could tamp it down. I couldn’t help but picture Alexander carrying me, his arms strong and secure around my body, just as they had been that day Sophia had pushed me out of the hayloft.


    Stop it, I scolded myself. It didn’t mean anything. He probably just didn’t want to wake me up. Or he even had Gabriel carry me instead.


    Still, I couldn’t help but wonder about him–and, most of all, his promise fromst night. Was he really going to stop sending money to my father, just because I asked? That would be… unprecedented. Alexander never broke contracts, especially not <i>for </i>my sake.


    But there had been something in his eyes when he promised. Something soft and sincere. And the way he had smiled afterward… I felt heat creep into my cheeks just thinking about it.


    What was happening to me? One moment I was fantasizing about my freedom, about the day Alexander would reject me and my wolf would return<b>, </b>and the next I was blushing like a schoolgirl over a simple smile.


    My feelings toward him were bing more ambiguous by the day, and I hated it. It was dangerous for me to think like this. Alexander would never choose to mark me instead of divorcing me, and it was better if I didn’t let my imagination run wild.


    I’d learned early on in our marriage that false hopes would get me nowhere. And with my current condition, they’d just wind up killing me in the end.


    With a sigh, I pushed myself out of bed. I peeled off the ck dress and tossed it in the hamper, then took a shower, dressed infortable clothes, and headed downstairs in search of Alexander. I wanted to ask him directly about his promise, but he didn’t seem to be home.


    Finally, I found Lilith in the kitchen. She was cooking something on the stove that smelled delicious. “You sleptte,” she said without even turning around, as if simply sensing I was there–she’d always been good at that. “It’s nearly noon.”


    “Where’s Alexander?”


    “He left early this morning. Something about a meeting.” Lilith spooned some scrambled eggs onto a te and handed it to me. “There’s coffee, too.”


    I yawned and thanked her, taking my seat at the kitchen ind. The eggs were perfectly cooked, just the way I liked them, and the coffee helped with my mild hangover. I’d had more to drinkst night than I anticipated–the stress of the evening had made me need something to take the edge off.


    “Oh, and a package arrived for you,” Lilith added, gesturing to a cardboard box on the counter. “Judging from the address, I think it’s that gift your stepmother was talking aboutst night. So far, I haven’t heard any snakes hissing inside.”


    I stared at the box suspiciously. Margaret had never given me a single gift before. And after her strange behaviorst night, talking about sending a gift to “improve” my rtionship with Alexander…


    Setting down my fork, I pulled the box toward me and lifted the lid cautiously, genuinely wondering if it was booby trapped.


    Instead, I foundyers of tissue paper, and beneath that…


    My mouth fell open.


    “What is it?” Lilith asked, leaning over my shoulder.


    I quickly closed the box before she could see. “Nothing. Just… clothes.”


    Lilith raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue. “Well, I’ll be in the garden if you need me. There’s more coffee in the pot.”


    As soon as she left, I reopened the box and pulled out the contents, holding them up with disbelief.


    Lingerie. Several pieces of extremely expensive, extremely revealing lingerie. ckce, red silk, sheer mesh–all of it designed to leave <b>very </b>little to the imagination.


    What the actual fuck? My stepmother had sent me lingerie? The woman who had never given me so much as a birthday card had sent me… <b>this</b><b>? </b>


    I immediately recalled her words fromst night: “I promise it will improve your rtionship even more.” The implication was clear enough<b>, </b><b>Margaret </b>thought this would somehow fix my marriage. As if sexy underwear was all it would take to make Alexander suddenly fall in love with me.


    I almostughed at the absurdity of it. Alexander had never shown any interest in seeing me naked. We’d been married for five years and had never <b>had </b>sex, never even kissed until that press conference.


    Still, as I ran <i>my </i>fingers over the silky material, I couldn’t help but feel a tug of curiosity. I hadn’t worn anything like this in years–not since the early days of our marriage when I had still foolishly hoped Alexander might someday want me to share a bed with him.


    Back then, I had bought simr lingerie, hadin awake in my tiny bedroom wearing it, fantasizing about Alexandering all the way from the other wing to see me and being unable to hold himself back once he realized what I was wearing.


    But he never came, and eventually, I packed it all away, burning it in the firece along with my girlish dreams.


    ncing around to make sure I was alone, I gathered up the lingerie and headed back upstairs. It couldn’t hurt to try it on, right? Just to see how <b>it </b>looked. It wasn’t like anyone would ever see me in it. Then I would burn it just like thest batch.


    Once I was alone, I quietly shut the door and stripped down to nothing. I selected a ckce bodysuit and stepped into it, pulling it up over my hips and sliding my arms through the thin straps.


    My eyes widened when I turned to look in the mirror.


    “Whoa,” I whispered.


    I barely recognized myself.


    The ckce fit the dip of my waist perfectly. The plunging neckline showed off my cleavage even more than that dress I’d wornst night. ck was my color, wasn’t it? It seemed to suit me extraordinarily well, as if it had been made for me.


    I looked… sexy. Confident. Like a bombshell.


    Was this what Alexander would see if he walked in right now? His wife, his mate, looking like this?


    The thought took root before I could squash it, making my belly turn warm like someone had poured hot honey down my throat.


    I couldn’t help but imagine it–Alexandering back early from his meeting, opening the bedroom door, freezing in ce when he saw me like this. His green eyes would darken, his pupils dting as he took me in.


    He would close the door behind him, crossing the room in three long strides until he was standing right behind me<b>, </b>close enough that I could feel <b>the </b>heat radiating from his body. Our eyes would meet in the mirror, and I would see hunger in his gaze…


    His hands woulde to rest on my hips, his fingers pressing into my skin through the thince. His lips would find my neck<b>, </b>trailing <b>hot </b>kisses <b>from </b><b>my </b>shoulder to my ear.


    “You’re beautiful,” he would whisper. “So fucking beautiful. My mate…”


    Goddess, I knew I shouldn’t be fantasizing about this, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I would turn in his arms then<b>, </b><b>reaching </b><b>up </b>to thread my fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth down to mine.


    And this time, the kiss would be real. It would be more than a peck, but rather a dance of tongues, of nipping one another’s <b>lower </b><b>lips</b><b>, </b><b>of </b>tasting <b>each </b>


    <b>2/3 </b>


    Other.


    Maybe his mouth would trail down to my throat. Maybe his teeth would gently pierce my skin.


    Then we would stumble toward the bed, hands exploring, bodies pressed together, He wouldy me down gently, his eyes never leaving mine as he…


    I shook my head sharply, dispelling the fantasy. This was ridiculous. Dangerous. Alexander would never look at me that way. Never touch me <b>that </b><b>wayT</b><b>. </b>Never want me that way.


    Bút standing there in the lingerie, seeing myself as desirable, as worthy of desire… it was hard not to wish for it. Didn’t every wife want her husband <b>to </b>see her like this? To look at her like she was the only woman in the world? To make her feel beautiful and wanted?


    I quickly turned away, inwardly chiding myself for this stupid fantasy. This was a bad idea. I needed to get this thing off and throw out all of the evidence before anyone else saw.


    Just as I was reaching up to remove the straps of the bodysuit, however, I heard the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. I froze and whirled around, expecting to see Alexander standing there, just like my daydream. But it wasn’t him.


    It was Gabriel who was standing there, staring at me, his eyes wide.


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