Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife #1) - Sienna Blake Page 0,24

less than a metre away from each other. Longing rips through my ribcage. I shouldn’t be staring. I can’t tear my eyes away.

It’s Dimi. My Dimi. He’s here for me.

His deep-set piercing blue eyes used to simmer with heat and fire as they looked at me. Now as his gaze comes to rest upon me, they are as cold as ice. There’s no warmth in his face. No surprise. No happiness. None. Like he doesn’t know me. The only outward appearance of emotion is a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Mrs Worthington,” he says.

It sounds so formal I could cry. Don’t be like this, Dimi. It’s me. It’s Alena.

“It’s so lovely to meet you.” He stretches out his hand.

How can I accept a mere handshake when my body is screaming to throw itself into him arms?

A realisation slaps me in the face. Of course. Dimitri can’t act like he knows me. We need to keep our past a secret if we have any chance of leaving here together. My husband won’t let go of me—his possession—so easily. His pride won’t let him. Oh, Dimi. I’ve waited for you for so long.

I force a steady breath. “Likewise, Mr Wolf.” I reach for him, my fingers trembling.

My hand slides into his.

Our first touch in five years.

A riot of fireworks whizz and flare up my arm and down my body. My breath catches. Emotions jam up in the back of my throat.

His eyes widen imperceptibly. For a second, a mere second, the ice in his features melt. I see the Dimitri I used to know looking back out at me.

Then his eyes freeze over again.

His hand is firm, smoother than they were, his old callouses almost unnoticeable. He hasn’t worked with his hands in a long time.

“Your husband has told me much about you.” He slides his other hand over mine, trapping me. “In terms of your beauty, he has not exaggerated. As for your other braggable qualities, they are yet to be discovered.” His words are honey and lightness, but I can hear the bite in his voice. The way he spits out the word husband. The slight scorn when he mentions my undiscovered braggable qualities.

I part my lips in shock. I can’t move as he tugs his hands from mine, my skin burning from where he touched me. Could he still be angry with me? After all these years?

I want to search his face again. But he has turned away already, back to my husband. I catch the eye of Mr Haggerty, staring at me with narrowed eyes.

I snap my mouth shut. He can’t find out about Dimitri and me. No one can. I school my features as best as I can and try to keep my head from spinning.

“I hope you don’t mind, I have my business advisor arriving soon,” Dimitri says.

“Certainly not,” my husband says after a slight pause. “We’ll have the guest room next to you made up for him.”

“Thank you.”

“Emily,” my husband says, “please check with cook that everything is ready for dinner. Alena can show Mr Wolf to his room.”

“But Papa, I thought I could show Mr—”

“And have Alena oversee our dinner?” He lets out a curt, cruel laugh at my expense. “I’d rather not have burned food. Neither would our guest. Alena doesn’t know the first useful thing about running a kitchen.”

I stiffen. “We can’t all have Emily’s domestic abilities.”

My husband’s hard eyes are focused on me. “I would settle for at least one ability.”

My cheeks flame. He’s still angry at me over the loss of our baby. It’s not my fault, I want to scream. I wanted him too. More than you.

I catch Dimitri’s gaze. I see no empathy. Just an empty coldness in his eyes. He turns to my husband. “Your footman can show me to my room. I’m sure Mrs Worthington has more important wifely duties to perform.”

“Nonsense,” my husband says with a laugh. “My wife has nothing better to do.”

Nothing better to do. That’s me. A kept woman. Useless except for showing guests to their room.

I lift my head high. “Please follow me, Mr Wolf. I’ll have one of the footmen bring up your luggage later.”

19

____________

Alena

I can feel Dimitri’s eyes on my back as he follows me up the stairs. My heart tumbles around my chest as we disappear from sight of the others and make our way through the corridors. Each one of his footsteps, echoing over mine, makes my insides flinch. My ankles and knees feel like they’re being held