The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife (Blair and Grayson) novel Chapter 284

Chapter 284

LORETTA-

The look on his face almost made the dress worth it.

Almost.

5 vouchers

He was still holding the plate. Pasta. An apology he had tried to disguise as the cook’s work, which would have been funny hours ago and was only irritating now.

I’d seen him, he didn’t know but I’d seen him preparing it. And my heart had done that stupid thing again. Then I’d reminded myself that all of this was only for the contract. That was all Marco cared about. And I had no business trying to make it more than what it truly was.

His eyes had gone from the length of the dress to my face and stuck there.

“To meet someone,” I said again, because he had not moved. “You heard me.”

“Who?”

I laughed. It came out short. “You’re serious right now?”

“You’re dressed like that and walking out of my house at night. Yes, I’m serious.”

Did he think he somehow owned me because of a contract?

“Your house.” I repeated. I stepped past him. He turned with me. “I asked who the woman was. The one who kept reaching for you. You told me our lives were separate. You told me I didn’t need to know, and then you told me to drop it. Now you expect me to tell you who I’m meeting up with?”

“That was different.”

The nerve of him! He was driving me insane.

“How?”

“She showed up. I didn’t invite her. I got her to leave.” His jaw was tight. “You’re choosing to go out looking like that. Did you forget you fainted already?”

“Why do you care?” I demanded.

“Loretta.”

“Contract,” I reminded him. “It means no tour of the people I know, either. You were very clear. I’m allowed to leave. It has nothing to do with you as long as I’m following everything already agreed upon.”

He had no answer that did not make him a hypocrite. I watched him find that out in real time. The hand on the plate tightened.

“At least tell me where.”

“A bar.”

The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife

There was a pause before his voice went even deeper, “a bar?”

Goodbye, Marco.”

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I went down the stairs. He followed as far as the hall and stopped, because Giovanni was there, coat already on, keys in hand.

Marco looked at him. Giovanni looked at the floor. I looked at neither of them longer than I had to.

“Giovanni,” I said. “Please let us leave now. I’m running late.”

I didn’t have anyone to meet but he didn’t need to know that.

His eyes flicked to Marco, then back to me.

There was concern on his face as we walked out to the driveway where the car waited. “Signorina. It is late. You have not eaten since the diner-”

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