Tangled In His Sheets

"You're late, Sienna."

Damian's voice was low, almost bored, but it still made Sienna stiffen. She turned from the mirror where the stylist had just fixed the last curl of her hair. He stood in the doorway of their bedroom, dressed in a black suit that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe back home.

"I was ready before you," she said, keeping her tone calm. She picked up her clutch and walked toward him. "You just didn't notice."

His gray eyes swept over her, cold and assessing, like a man looking at something he owned rather than someone he married.

"You're wearing red."

"It's Valentino. Your assistant sent it," she replied, lifting her chin slightly.

He didn't bother answering. He simply turned and walked out, expecting her to follow.

Sienna let out a slow breath before trailing after him.

They had been married for three months, and in all that time, Sienna couldn't remember a single day when Damian had looked at her with any warmth.

"You never say anything nice," she muttered once they were in the car, staring out the window.

Damian didn't look up from his phone. "Is that what you want from me? Compliments?"

"I guess it would be nice. Considering we're married."

His eyes flicked to her briefly. "We're married because you wanted something and I gave it to you."

Her jaw tightened. "You make it sound like I enjoy this."

"Do you?"

She turned to look at him sharply. "Do you?"

He didn't reply. He only went back to typing on his phone, the faint glow of the screen reflecting in his cold gray eyes.

"Do you ever stop working?" she asked after a moment, trying to get him to say something, anything.

"I don't have the luxury of wasting time."

"Talking to me is wasting time?"

"You already know what this is, Sienna," he said flatly, still not looking at her. "We're not here to play husband and wife."

She bit her lip, staring back out the window, her fingers tightening on her clutch.

The moment they stepped out of the car, cameras flashed. Damian's arm slid around her waist, firm and controlled, his grip almost possessive.

"Smile," he said under his breath.

"I know how this works."

"Then stop looking like you'd rather be anywhere else."

She forced a smile, gritting her teeth. "Maybe because I would."

"Not tonight," he said smoothly, his face still perfect for the cameras. "Tonight, you're Mrs. Voss."

"Funny," she whispered back, still smiling for the photographers. "I don't feel like one."

"Then pretend harder."

"You're good at pretending," she murmured.

He glanced at her briefly, his lips barely moving. "Better than you'll ever be."

She kept smiling, but inside her chest, her heart tightened with anger.

Inside the ballroom, Damian walked off almost immediately to join a group of businessmen. Sienna stood near the champagne table, holding a glass just for something to do.