Chapter 82
Aria’s POV
“My dear wife, you can be as ungracious as you like p>
His words sent a delicious shiver down my spine. There was something profoundly possessive in the way Aiden said “my wife” – not controlling, but protective. Like I belonged somewhere safe. With him.
I’d never imagined someone’s voice alone could make my body respond this way. The heat rising to my cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with desire.
“Then let’s go,” I replied, trying to sound casual despite the quickening of my pulse.
“No need,” Aiden said, his eyes never leaving mine as he took a sip of his wine. “I already had Lucas decline p>
I blinked. p>
He could have simply told me that from the beginning instead of asking my opinion. Clearly, he’d already made the decision for both of us. The realization should have irritated me, but somehow, I found it endearing.
“That face you’re making right now Aiden’s lips curved into a smile. “Like you can’t decide whether to be annoyed or impressed p>
“I’m leaning toward annoyed,” I lied, fighting my own smile.
“No, you’re not.” He reached across the table, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. “Your mouth says annoyed, but your eyes His voice dropped lower. “Your eyes never lie to me, Aria p>
My breath caught in my throat. How did he always manage to do this? Turn a simple conversation into something that made my heart race?
“Finish your dinner,” he said, his tone suddenly lighter. “Unless you’d prefer something else p>
The suggestive edge to his question made my cheeks burn hotter.
After dinner, we retreated to our bedroom. Aiden loosened his tie while I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him through the reflection in the mirror.
“I need to fly to Singapore tomorrow,” he said casually, unbuttoning his shirt. “A merger that requires my personal attention p>
“Oh,” I said, trying to mask my disappointment. “How long will you be gone p>
“Three days, four at most.” He turned to face me. “You know about this trip, right? Lucas should have put it in your calendar p>
I nodded. “Yes, I know. I was briefed p>
Aiden stepped closer, his expression suddenly vulnerable in a way that took my breath away. “Aren’t you going to see me off at the airport p>
The question – so unexpected from someone as self-assured as Aiden – made something melt inside me. This powerful man, asking if I’d come say goodbye like a little boy seeking reassurance.
“Of course I will,” I promised, reaching for him. “Did you think I wouldn’t p>
His eyes darkened as he pulled me against him. “Good girl p>
That night, his touch was different – more urgent, more possessive. Like he was trying to leave his mark on me, something to remember him by during our separation. His hands gripped me firmly as he claimed my a
mouth with a hunger that magle me
gasp.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, his voice rough against my ear.
“I’m yours,” I whispered, the words coming naturally now, no longer a surrender but
a truth I embraced.
“Say it again,” he commanded, moving inside me with deliberate slowness that made me dig my nails into his back.
“I’m yours, Aiden,” I moaned, arching into him. “Only yours p>
His control snapped then, and he took me with an intensity that left us both breathless, collapsed against each other as our hearts raced in tandem.
“I’ll miss you,” I admitted in the quiet aftermath, surprised by how much I meant it.
He pressed his lips to my forehead, not responding with words but holding me tighter as we drifted off to sleep.
When I woke the next morning, Aiden was gone. In his place was a handwritten note on his pillow:
“You looked so peaceful sleeping, I couldn’t bear to wake you. I’ll call when I land. Remember whose you are. -A”
I pressed the note to my chest, breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne on the paper. Three days suddenly felt like an eternity.
After showering and dressing, I made my way downstairs. Mr. Smith had prepared breakfast, but I only managed a few bites before heading to the music room.
Music had always been my refuge, the place where I could pour all my emotions when words failed. Today, Chopmais.
my fingers founy strange
nocturnes echoing
mixture of longing and contentment.
The days passed in a blur of practice sessions and phone calls with Aiden. Each night, his voice would come through the phone, deep and
intimate, asking about my davel.net’
telling me about his meetinges. I found myself counting the hours until he’d return.
It was during one of my afternoon practices that my phone rang with a call from Elena Brooks.
“Aria, darling!” Elena’s enthusiastic voice came through the speaker. “I have the most wonderful news about our charity gala p>
I hadn’t expected to hear from her again so soon after the Diana Hayes incident, but
Elena sounded genuinely excited.
“What is it?” I asked, curious despite myself.