Pure Vengeance

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Natasha

Knowing I was making Lachlan uncomfortable, I tried to control the verbal diarrhea pouring out of my mouth.

His house was just so beautiful, I couldn’t help it. The recessed landscape lighting sent a golden glow over the Victorian mansion and seemed to touch on the gorgeous gingerbread architectural features. My father’s house was modern glass and steel, and arguably nice, but it lacked the warm charm of Lachlan’s.

It looked like a princess house, and the cool ocean breeze smelled fresh and clean with touches of the redwood forest surrounding the property.

As he helped me from the town car, I heard dogs barking close enough that I didn’t think they belonged to a neighbor—not that they could have, considering there wasn’t another house nearby.

“What kind of dogs do you have?” I asked, turning in the direction of the barking. “I’ve never had a pet before. Will I get to meet them tomorrow?”

“No pets?” He cupped my elbow and led me up the short flight of stairs to the charming wraparound porch complete with rocking chairs.

“No. My father—” I cut myself off before I went down that brutally dark path. “He didn’t like animals.”

“I keep Mastiffs, and yes. You’ll definitely get to visit the kennel tomorrow.”

He opened the stained-glass door, and I bit back a gasp. “Oh, wow.”

Soaring at least two stories, the front entryway was illuminated with a large crystal chandelier. My heels clicked on the marble floor as I turned in place to take everything in. A tiled fireplace was next to a low table bracketed by two leather club chairs, and there was an antique mahogany hall stand with a large, beveled mirror and several umbrellas in the side racks. A man’s raincoat hung from one of the hooks next to the mirror.

The sweeping twin staircases leading up to a landing with a carved railing stole my breath completely. It was like something out of a fairy tale with thickly carpeted treads and a wooden banister that begged for someone to slide down it.

“Wow?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s really nice.” My face heated and I resisted the urge to curl in a ball and die of embarrassment. “No. It’s the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen, but I’m trying to act like a normal human and not go overboard even though I still can’t believe I’ll be living here.”

His laughter surprised me with its warmth. “And you’ve only seen the foyer.”

“I know.” I shrugged and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes, wondering if my hot cheeks would melt the theatrical paint off my face. “Sorry.”

“I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow.” He took my hand and led me to the staircase. “You’ve had a busy day, and I’m sure you want to shower and rest.”

Gulp.

My core clenched as I ascended the stairs. I didn’t know if my physical reaction was from nerves or desire. Lachlan was so damned gorgeous. How was I supposed to know how to please him when I’d never even kissed someone?

Except that wasn’t quite true. Moisture pooled between my thighs as he escorted me to a double door at the end of the hall. That one kiss Lachlan had given me after our wedding…

I resisted the urge to fan myself as he opened the door. Lachlan’s suite was lavishly decorated, with a massive bed made of dark wood piled high with pillows and a burgundy coverlet. A leather couch faced a large television centered between two floor-to-ceiling windows, and there was a small Queen Anne table with two chairs in a corner near a wet bar.

“The bathroom is through that door, and there’s a robe for you.” he murmured. “Your suitcase has already been unpacked into your dressing room, and we’ll have more clothes delivered tomorrow.”

“I have a dressing room?” My heart rate quickened, and I wondered if I’d faint. “Really?”

“You’ll see everything tomorrow.” Lachlan encouraged me to walk into the most beautiful bathroom I’d ever seen. “Take some time for yourself and relax.”

“Sorry… I mean, yes, thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

He shut the door behind him as he walked out, leaving me to wonder how the hell my father had managed to do one decent thing in his long, evil life and marry me off to such an amazing, kind man. Biting back a hysterical giggle, I stripped out of my dress, tearing it in my haste when I couldn’t get the zipper by myself. Using ties I found in one of the drawers, I secured my hair and stepped into the marble and glass shower enclosure.

There was also a sunken tub surrounded by candles and expensive bath products. The bathroom in my father’s house was small and utilitarian with a shower stall, sink, and toilet. I hadn’t taken an actual bath since I was a kid, but I’d save that treat for when I didn’t have a beautiful husband waiting for me.

I giggled but caught myself before I stuck my head under the spray. I didn’t dare risk rinsing the makeup off until I had products to replace it. The last thing I wanted was for Lachlan to see what my face looked like.

Lachlan

Although it didn’t happen often, I could admit when I was wrong—not that I’d tell my sister that.

I stripped off my tie and jacket, then rolled the sleeves of my dress shirt to my elbows. After kicking my shoes into a corner, I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to think about what I’d observed.

There was no way Natasha’s behavior was faked. She was truly astonished and delighted by something so small as a private dressing room and acted like she’d never seen a bathroom before.

It was more than odd, and raised questions I couldn’t afford to have answered. Aside from that, her naivete didn’t matter. She was simply a means to an end.

However, I could give her one thing. I’d give her the wedding night she’d deserve if I wasn’t me, and she wasn’t Steve Ashland’s daughter. I’d just have to remind myself to treat her like a cherished bride instead of the instrument of my revenge—at least for tonight.

She’d find no succor here. Not from me or Saoirse, or from any of my staff. I’d give her one night of joy before ripping it all away, and I wouldn’t allow myself to feel a single bit of guilt.

It would hurt her even more when I introduced her to her new life, which played into my future plans perfectly.

The shower cut off, and a scant few moments later, Natasha opened the door and crept from the bathroom as if she expected me to bite her. My dick hardened at the thought of nipping her tender skin.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she approached the bed where I sat waiting for her. “I… um… I tried to leave plenty of hot water for you.”

“It’s fine.” I patted the mattress next to me. “Come. Sit with me.”

“Yes, sir.”

My cock throbbed at her address, and I swallowed a groan. Fuck. I was beginning to have dangerous thoughts already, and I’d known Natasha less than a day.

She would have been so perfect if not for…

Everything.

Damn Saoirse for being right.

Natasha sat on the edge of the bed with her knees pressed together and her hands on her lap—the very picture of a nervous virgin.

Maybe the rumors of her promiscuity had been wrong too, but even that wasn’t going to stop me. In fact, it would make the outcome even better if I took Steve’s precious little girl’s virginity.

After getting my head on straight, I said, “I know you provided a health screening, but I have one too if you want to see it.”

“No, that’s okay.” She peered up at me through her lashes. “I… um… I also got a birth control shot. If you’d rather start a family right away, it’ll wear off in a few months.”

Stupid, trusting little bitch.

With that one comment, I hardened my resolve. There was no way in hell I’d breed her and risk bringing another Ashland into the world. Once I thought I could speak without strangling her, I said, “That’s a good choice. We’ll wait until we’re ready.”

Deciding to get it over with, I turned to face her, then cupped her cheek in my hand and kissed her. Strangely, she hadn’t taken off her makeup, but I didn’t care. She tasted just as sweet as I remembered from our wedding, but I missed her citrus and vanilla perfume.

Her cute little whimpers enflamed me as she clutched at my shirt. In a desperate attempt to remain in control, I said, “Stand up and take off that robe. I want to see my wife.”

With exquisite obedience, she rose to her feet, then looked at the floor as the robe slid down her curvaceous body. She was made for fucking, with generous hips tapering to a slim waist. The dark curls on her mound would be removed soon enough, but I was surprised to find hair at all—much less the natural bush she sported.

Her tits were more than a handful with brown nipples that hardened to stiff points under my avid gaze. Her alabaster skin was flawless without even a single freckle, save for extensive bruising on the right side of her torso.

She flinched and tightened her hands into fists when I touched one of the marks. “What happened?”

“I… um… I’m just so clumsy.” Her husky voice squeaked, and she smiled brightly as she lifted her gaze to my face. “I fell down the stairs.”

Christ. If that wasn’t the most obvious tell ever…

Considering I’d watched her navigate stairs in four-inch heels without a single misstep, I didn’t believe the lie for a second, but I didn’t care enough to ask for the truth. Instead, I nodded agreeably. “Poor thing.”

“It’s okay. It barely hurts at all.”

And yet another lie. Judging by the marks, I wondered if she had a few bruised ribs. I’d just have to be reasonably gentle when I fucked her—at least until those bruises faded.

In six weeks, she’d be gone anyway. I couldn’t allow myself to care where they came from.