The Red Wife Read online

  Sebastian wasn't very forthcoming, however. “Eat your bagel. After what's happened this morning I don't want anything to happen to…set you off.”

  “Is that what you're worried about?” Mariss reached for the orange juice. Her arm brushed Sebastian's, setting her skin alight with desire. “Shit.” She pulled back. “You have to go away,” she demanded.

  “Go away?” His voice rose in confusion. “This is my room.”

  “Yeah.” Mariss let her eyes slide shut. She couldn't be alone with him and follow the rules. Even the promise that she could have what her body perilously desired wasn't enough to tamp down her irrational attraction to the man standing beside her. “I have to go. I'll see you downstairs. Perhaps, you should call Nora.”

  “She's working today.”

  Mariss felt Sebastian's eyes on her as she grabbed her bagel and coffee. “See you,” she said on her way out the door.

  “See you,” he called after her.

  Juliet was waiting when Mariss got back to her room. “We need to talk,” she told her friend as she downed her coffee.

  “Okay.” Juliet pulled her feet underneath her and sat up. “What's up?”

  “Did you tell Holden that Sebastian and I had sex?”

  “What?”

  “Did you tell him?” Mariss said forcefully.

  “No!” Juliet's voice rose in anger. “How can you even ask me that?”

  “Because he knows and I didn't tell anyone but you. Sebastian didn't tell anyone, so… I had to ask.”

  “You don't know how he found out?”

  “If I did, would I be asking you?”

  “What happened?”

  Mariss shrugged and fell onto the sofa with little grace. “He told us that he knows. He let us have sex last night. Me and Sebastian. He said if it was going to happen then it was going to happen while he was around.” She wiped at a tear that slipped free.

  “Are you…okay? The two of you?”

  Mariss shook her head. “Well, we're not going to split up, but I know he'll never trust me again. I can't believe I let this happen.”

  “It's not your fault,” Juliet said. Her voice dropped an octave and she sounded sinister. “I blame Sebastian. He pushed until you couldn't push back anymore.”

  “It's not all his fault.”

  “Are you protecting him?”

  “No,” Mariss shook her head. “I'm just as much to blame as he is.”

  “Babe?” Mariss looked up at Holden standing in the doorway to the bedroom. “Come in here with me?”

  She stood without question and followed him to the room. Holden closed the door and locked it. Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her around and pressed her against the wall.

  “Stop crying,” he demanded. His lips brushed her neck, just behind her ear. Mariss shivered and moaned, unable to contain her pleasure. “The costume contest starts in an hour. Are you going to get into your costume?”

  “I need help,” she breathed. “There are too many buckles.”

  “Then let's get you buckled in.”

  Holden pushed away from her. Mariss felt his absence and mourned it. She should just stay in this room with his body pressed to hers all day long.

  It took them forty-five minutes to get her into her costume. With every buckle, Mariss felt her life tightening around her, choking her to death. There was no need for this depth of depression. Holden had forgiven her, the burden of lying was off her shoulders. Everything was going to work itself out.

  “Mare,” Brit called as they finished strapping her into the ridiculous costume. She stuck her head in the door and grinned. “You look amazing! Sebastian is out here. You guys are going to win. I swear. He looks fantastic.”

  “When doesn't he look fantastic?” Mariss asked. Holden frowned at her. “What? It's his job to look fantastic at all times. He does it on purpose.”

  Holden helped her out to the living room. Her sprocket stilettos took some walking around in before she was steady enough to stand on her own.

  Sebastian really did look absolutely amazing. He'd traded in his traditional black, white, and blue for gold and bronze. He tipped his gold brocade top hat as Mariss walked through the door and revealed a metal contraption that formed to his head that made it look like he'd lost an eye. His long finger pushed the eye glass out of the way and he smiled at her through shocking blue eyes.

  “Good morning, ma'lady.”

  Mariss chuckled. “Who would have known you were such a dramatic actor?”

  He chuckled. “You look lovely. As always. I'm impressed by your detail.”

  “My detail? Sebastian, you have a steam-powered eyeglass. Are you serious right now? The only way you won't win is if there's an actual steam-powered suit.” Mariss struggled to keep her face straight.

  Brit giggled.

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her. “Is there something I should know?” he asked. “What aren't you telling me?”

  “I like your cane,” Brit said, deflecting the question. “May I hold it?” she winked.

  “Sweetheart, you may handle my cane anytime you like.” Sebastian winked back.

  “Fuckin' serious?” Holden grunted.

  Mariss laughed. “He's said much worse to me, baby. Sebastian doesn't know how to be polite.”

  “I'm British,” Sebastian reminded her. “My manners embarrassingly supercede yours.”

  Mariss laughed out loud and almost lost her balance. “Are you trying to tell me that you're so nasty all the time because you don't want to embarrass me?”

  “Precisely, my dear. Are we ready to go? I would like to escort you downstairs, if that's alright with your husband.”

  Sebastian gave Holden an insolent look.

  “Is that alright, baby?” Mariss asked, hoping to difuse any fights that might pop up.

  “Yeah. I'll be down in a minute.”

  Mariss kissed her husband. With her costume in the way, she barely felt his hand on her back. Passion bloomed between them. When they broke apart, Mariss smiled and hoped she conveyed every bit of what she felt for him.

  “I love you, Holden.”

  “I love you too, baby.” His voice was gruff with unshed emotion. “Hurry up. I'll see you down there.”

  There wasn't room for Brit in the elevator. With Mariss' outfit, she and Sebastian barely fit.

  “How are you doing?” he asked once the doors closed.

  “I'm fine.” Mariss watched the numbers descend.

  “You're lying.” Sebastian's frosty tone brought Mariss' head around.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I can tell when you're lying,” he said. “There's no way you're alright after what happened this morning. Or last night. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

  Mariss shook her head. “I don't know what to say. I feel like everything is about to explode. I know he's all forgiving and understanding right now, but how long can that last? The next time he can't get me on my phone he's going to blow a gasket. He'll assume I was with you, that we had sex and broke the rules, and then…” She bit her tongue, stopping mid sentence.

  “And then?” Sebastian pressed. “And then what?”

  “He'll cut you off.”

  Sebastian scoffed. “You'd let him do that?”

  Mariss turned to Sebastian and, for the first time, she saw past his perfect bone structure and captivating blue eyes. Before her stood a man. Just a man in a fancy gold suit. And nothing had changed.

  “I don't want to feel like this ever again, Sebastian. You have no idea how this has eaten me up inside. You might not have a conscience, but I do. I cheated on my husband. Regret may not be something you understand, but trust me. It's not fun.”

  “You regret what we did?” Sebastian questioned.

  Mariss chanced a look at him only to find that his eyes burned with fury. His furrowed brow gave away the hurt he was trying to hide.

  “I don't regret what we did. I just regret that we did it.”

  “What's the
difference?”

  Mariss sighed. “For the sake of your sanity, Sebastian, just trust me when I say that there's a difference. I'm not cheating on my husband again. You know the rules. Follow them, or get off the elevator.” She blinked. “Quite literally.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “That was good.”

  “I thought so.” The furious tension between them dissipated.

  “What's this thing on the front of your dress, Red?” Sebastian reached over to touch a box that hung low on Mariss' abdomen. She slapped him away. Sebastian blinked at her. “Did you just hit me?”

  “Don't touch,” she said with a smile. “You'll find out eventually.”

  “I want to know now.”

  “Yeah, well, it's nice to want.” She couldn't keep the smile from her lips as they stared at each other, neither backing down.

  “You are in rare form today.”

  Mariss shook her head. “I'm trying to keep my head above water. I feel like I 'm drowing emotionally.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  She looked over at Sebastian. His brow furrowed with concern as he regarded her. Mariss nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “I'm sure everything is going to be alright. Did he say anything else to you after you left that might suggest that he hasn't really forgiven you? I have to admit, he took it much better than I expected.”

  “Yeah. That's what scares me.”

  The elevator doors opened. Sebastian helped Mariss out and down the hall to the room where the contest was to be held. There were so many amazing costumes, she couldn't stop staring.

  “This is going to be closer than I thought,” Mariss admitted.

  “We'll win,” Sebastian assured her. “Everyone is already staring at us standing here together.”

  He made no attempt to cover the smugness of his tone. Mariss shook her head.

  “You're an arrogant piece of work, Sebastian.”

  “I'd rather you call me Bassy.”

  Mariss turned to look at him. He smirked at her and put a hand in his pocket.

  “Why?” she wanted to know.

  “So I can hear you moaning my name every time you say it.”

  She laughed. There was really nothing else for her to do. The ridiculousness of his comment combined with that damn smile made her laughter bubble over.

  “Sebastian, I-”

  Someone squealed and Mariss turned to see what was going on. Holden walked through the door at the same time. He smiled at her from the door as he sauntered into the room looking fine and carefree. They were going to be able to work this out. If he could still look at her like no one else mattered in the world, then they would be fine. For a moment, Mariss' heart felt light. She smiled back, ready to go to him.

  Behind him, a woman screwed a lid onto a bottle of water and handed it to Holden. The woman caught Mariss staring. She grinned, flashing a set of perfect teeth before she winked and walked away.

  “Holden?” Mariss started for him, but the room was so crowded. She squeezed past a group standing in the walkway. That face, those eyes. She'd seen them before, but they were off somehow.

  “Holden, don't drink that!” she shouted, but he couldn't hear her. She watched him screw the lid off and lift the bottle to his lips. Mariss shoved a woman out of her way.

  “Hey!” the woman shouted, but Mariss paid her no mind.

  She stumbled over her heels and into someone else.

  “Oh, excuse me,” he said, reaching to keep her upright. Mariss shook off his helping hands.

  “Holden!” Mariss' frantic heart raced. The feeling of impending doom settled in her heart. She wasn't going to make it to him in time.

  “What is it?” Sebastian asked, alarmed. “What's wrong?”

  Mariss couldn't answer. She watched Holden chug half the bottle. That face, those eyes… “Oh, god.”

  Holden frowned and coughed. His fingers went to his tie to loosen it and he coughed again. He leaned over and threw up.

  “No, no, no,” Mariss muttered. She shoved her way through the crowd. “Holden! Someone call an ambulance!”

  Holden collapsed to his knees and his body started to convulse.

  “Holden!” Mariss screamed. That face, those eyes. The son of a bitch had found her.

  Miraculously, the crowd parted and Mariss raced to Holden's side, reaching him as he collapsed face down on the floor. Her dress kept her from pulling him into her lap. Ragged gasps and strangled coughing made her want to throw up. She turned her eyes to Sebastian, but he was already kneeling. Mariss ripped at the contraption on the front of her dress. The satisfying sound of fabric tearing as it ripped away from her body did nothing to ease the anxiety growing inside her. She tossed the metal box to the floor, uncaring of where it landed and swept her skirts out of the way so she could kneel next to her husband.

  “Holden! Sebastian, do something!” she screamed.

  Sebastian looked at her helplessly and pulled out his cell phone. Holden's body shook as he contined to seize before her eyes.

  Someone came up beside her. Mariss pulled away from their touch, leaning away, prepared to fight before she registered Brit's terror-stricken face.

  “Everyone back up!” Juliet shouted from somewhere. “We don't know what's going on. It could be contageous.”

  Screaming ensued, but the announcement cleared the room. The press of humanity diminished as people scrambled to get as far away as possible.

  “I've called 9-1-1,” Brit said. She grasped Mariss' hand in hers. “They'll be here soon.”

  Mariss felt so helpless sitting there. She looked up at Sebastian, but he was at a complete loss. He was good at so many things, but when she needed him most he was completely useless. Holden's wide, pain-filled eyes refused to look away from Mariss. Tears filled her eyes as the two of them realized at the same time that he was going to die. The only question was how long it would take. Mariss sobbed and shook her head.

  “You can't leave me,” she demanded. Her voice was a ragged whisper.

  Holden stopped seizing and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. A fear-filled cry left Mariss' lips.

  “Holden!” She shook him. “He's not breathing!”

  “Step aside, ma'am.”

  Mariss jerked away from the hand on her shoulder and came to her feet so fast that she lost her balance again.

  “I'm a paramedic,” the man said. “Step aside.”

  Brit and Juliet corralled her out of the way. Their arms went around her and she watched the medics perform CPR on her husband.

  A sob ripped its way from Mariss' throat. “Wake up,” she whispered. “Holden, wake up. Please.”

  “He's breathing,” one of the medics said, but it didn't look to Mariss like there was any change.

  “He's breathing,” Juliet said in her ear.

  Mariss gripped Brit's hand as tightly as she could. The medics lifted Holden onto a gurney and wheeled him out of the room. Mariss shook Juliet and Brit off to follow them through the halls. The truck was parked at a set of double doors. Mariss gathered her dress, ready to climb in the back with him.

  “Ma'am you won't fit in the back with your dress,” one of the paramedics stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “I'll take it off,” she told him as she reached around to unfasten her buckles. “Sebastian, help me get it off.” She pulled at the first thing her fingers could find, ripping fabric and lace as she did. What did a dress matter when her husband was dying?

  “You can follow us there-”

  “I'll take it off!” she screamed at him. She clawed frantically, and somehow, one of the buckles came loose. “Help me!” Her voice ripped through air. “Help me, Sebastian! I have to go!”

  “Listen.” The paramedic's voice was just as commanding. His hands on her arms stilled her frantic undressing for just a moment. “Let us get him to the hospital. You can follow us there. It will be faster with a better chance of saving his life.”

  He didn't wait for a reply, but c
limbed into the back of the ambulance and closed the doors.

  “No!” she cried. “No! I'll take it off!” She pounded the doors with her fists as hard as she could. She reached for the handle and yanked. One of her fingernails caught and ripped away, but the pain and blood did not deter her from her mission. “I'll take the damn dress off! Let me in!”

  “Mariss!” Sebastian's voice cut through her screams.

  “Get her away from the doors,” someone shouted.

  “Let me in! Let me in!”

  Arms enveloped her, pulling here away. “No!” Mariss kicked out, slamming her feet against the ground. The heel of one boot snapped and rolled away. “I have to go! Put me down. I have to go with him!” Her hysterical voice reached a fever pitch. People were looking, staring, watching, but none of them mattered.

  “Mariss, it's alright.” Not even Sebastian could fix this.

  “No, it's not alright!” She cried. Mariss twised and broke free. Even on her broken shoes, she ran after the ambulance. “I have to go with him!”

  Mariss stumbled and fell, catching herself on her already battered hands.

  Sebastian was there within moments. His arms encircled her once again, pulling her close. This time, she didn't fight. This time, she let him comfort her. Mariss sobbed against his chest. There was no comfort in him today, though. Only heartache. Her body shook against his. Her eyes and nose leaked all over his suit. His fingers ran over her back in a gentle caress.

  “You're not alone, Mariss,” he said softly in her ear. “I'm not going to leave you alone. Alright?”

  She nodded. Mariss clutched at his clothes, her nails tearing into the fabric. His arms tightened around her.

  “I'll take care of everything. I promise.”

  More tears flowed freely down her face. If Sebastian hadn't been holding her up, Mariss would have fallen back down to the ground. Her legs refused to work properly. A car pulled up beside them.

  “My car's here,” Sebastian said softly. He helped her into the back where Brit already waited.

  “It's going to be fine, Mare,” Brit said. She squeezed Mariss' uninjured hand. Sebastian mumbled words that she barely registered as he caressed her hair.

  Mariss looked up when Juliet handed her some fast food.

  “No thanks,” she said weakly.