The Millionaire's Arranged Marriage Read Online Free Page B

my things together.” He stands up, then says, “Beatrice, I won’t be eating anything. I had a bite to eat already.”
    “Okay, Suh ,” she yells from the kitchen.
     
    * * *
     
    It’s a little after nine and I’m standing in the shower, thinking like I usually do. For the first ten minutes, I’m usually in a trance, letting the water run on me as I stand as still as a statue. I’m numb, the life has been sucked out of me for the last six months of my life and now I’m seriously contemplating taking Beatrice’s advice and letting Padma know what’s really been going on in this house. I have to.
    There comes a point in a bad relationship when you just have to let go. I haven’t been happy since I’ve been here. Even though everything is readily available for me and I have more shoes, clothes and everything else that I could possibly need, I’m not happy. I was much happier living with my Father and sisters, broke and all. We didn’t have money, but we had each other. I have no one here.
    M y thoughts are interrupted when I look through the foggy shower door and see the outline of someone standing there, motionless. I froze. I knew it was Dilvan, but why was he here? Had Beatrice told him something about our conversation earlier?
    I saw his figure get closer , then he reached for the handle, opening the glass door by sliding it to the side, and now, I’m standing here exposed, wet and naked and he’s standing there like he’s about to get in with me, his arms crossed, staring while holding my bath towel.
    I suddenly feel a chill strike me. I have goose bumps all over my body. He doesn’t say a word, just watches me, torturing me with his intense stares and unwelcomed presence.
    “How long h ave you been in there?” he asks, his voice blending with the rushing shower water.
    “About twenty-five minutes.”
    “Time for you to get out, don’t you think?”
    “Yes, M y Lord,” I respond with chattering teeth. I turn off the water and step out of the shower, reaching to take my towel from his hand.
    He moves back, not allowing me to take it from his grasp.
    So I stand there, in front of him, wet and naked, beads of water coating my skin. I cross my arms to cover my breasts, then in the nicest, most respectful voice I can muster, I ask , “May I please have my towel, My Lord?”
    “Not yet,” he says. “Do you know I’ve never really seen you completely naked?”
    My lips tremble. I close my eyes, feeling tears well up in them, and shake my head.
    “Relax your arms so I can see you,” he instructs.
    I do as he asks, even though I don’t want to . I feel cheaper than a truck-stop hooker right now with him staring at me like I’m a piece of meat. I thought I’d be free and clear of him tonight since he’s already satisfied himself this morning but looks like he’ll take advantage of me once again tonight.
    I stare down at my toes. The thought of him touching me makes me want to puke. Just the way he’s looking at me is enough to make me queasy. I can’t help but think about his thoughts – what he thinks of me this precise moment, looking at my flesh. If I’m so ugly, why is he staring so hard?
    “Turn around,” he tells me, tauntingly.
    I swallow hard and close my eyes. I don’t want to turn around for him. I’m afraid of what he might do to me. For the first time, since I’ve been Mrs. Alexander, I consider telling him no . It’s on the tip of my tongue, and really, what’s the worst he can do to me that he hasn’t done already? Hit me?
    “I said turn around, Gabrielle,” he erupts in a harsh, authoritative tone.
    “No,” I say, before I was even aware of it. On one hand, I felt proud of myself for finally standing up to him. But on the other hand, I knew my punishment was coming when he tossed my towel across the room, grabbed my right arm and physically turned me around, pushing me towards a wall.
    A few seconds later, I feel him penetrating me, thrusting harder than he’s