Chapter 5
His warm breath, a heady mix of fresh soap and masculine heat, crashed over Cecily, overwhelming her senses.
Cecily's heart stuttered.
This pose and this goddamn suffocating tension turned her on.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to get a grip, but her mind was already spiraling.
After three years, George somehow got even hotter. His abs were so damn hard and chiseled.
She had no idea how that psycho imposter kept her hands off him. What a waste.
"Cecily!" George's voice sliced through her thoughts.
Noticing her spacing out, he clamped down even harder on her wrist with an icy glare. "I'm asking you a question!"
"A question about what? Why are you screaming at me at the crack of dawn?" she shot back, her patience wearing thin.
The pressure on her wrist was starting to burn, and her own temper flared. She kicked at his shin.
"Get off me! You're heavy as hell! Are you trying to crush me to death and inherit my credit card debt?"
The sudden kick stunned him, and his grip instinctively loosened.
He had braced himself for her to argue, to play dumb, or maybe even to burst into crocodile tears. He never, in a million years, expected her to just kick him.
She was as untamed as the woman he had lost three years ago.
Seizing her chance, Cecily twisted out from under his arm and sat up, turning the tables. She rubbed her reddened wrist, glaring at him.
"What did I do? Telling my son he can skip some archaic ritual is trouble? Or is it that I don't want to sleep in that tomb-like room and would rather sleep in here with my husband? Is that trouble?"
The more she spoke, the more incensed she became, jabbing a finger toward herself. "Get a grip, George! I am your legally wedded wife. This house has been a nightmare for three years, and I own that!
"My head wasn't on straight, but it is now, and I am trying to fix it. Is that so wrong?
"Did you actually get brainwashed by all that 'the-husband-is-the-master' bullshit? Did you get used to that whole morning greeting routine? Maybe you should start bowing to me every morning to let me experience the thrill of being the queen."
Her rapid-fire assault left him completely speechless.
With hands on her hips, she pouted, looking adorably enraged. The ice in his gaze began to thaw, replaced by a complex emotion he couldn't name.
For three years, he had been living with a walking, talking rulebook, a woman whose every move reeked of a stuffy past.
But now, Cecily would yell at him, argue with illogical logic, and unapologetically stand her ground. She was really back.
"I..." His throat worked, but no words came out.
Seeing his utterly defeated expression, Cecily felt her anger dissipate, leaving behind a sour sense of hurt.
She softened her tone and reached out, poking him gently in the center of his chest.
"George, I know you and the kids have been through hell. Just give me some time. I'll make everything right again, okay?"
The second her fingertips touched his warm skin, they both froze.
A spark of something electric crackled in the air between them.
As his eyes fell on her tear-stained face, he felt an unexpected jolt in his chest.
He stood up sharply, turning his back to her. "I'll drive William," he stated. Ideally, he wanted to sound cold, but the bite had left his voice.
He grabbed his suit jacket and strode out of the room, his hurried exit looking suspiciously like a full-blown retreat.
The door slammed shut with a definitive bang.
Cecily stared at it for a long moment, and a small laugh escaped her lips.
That idiot was actually shy.
She fell backward onto the plush mattress, sinking into its softness and rolling over twice in pure satisfaction.
Finally, the master bedroom was hers again!
This was the first real step to clawing her life back.
After luxuriating in bed for a few more minutes, Cecily finally got up. She made progress with her oldest son and her daughter, but there was one more piece of the puzzle: her quick-witted second son, Ethan Hayes.
The memories told her that the imposter, under the guise of preventing him from becoming a "mama's boy," had spoiled him absolutely rotten, creating a lawless little monster.
Finally, Rose had reached her breaking point and forcibly taken Ethan to Hayes Estate for some proper discipline.
Hayes Estate was a fortress of rigid rules, like something out of a historical drama, and Rose was infamous for her iron will.
In a place like that, a spoiled boy like Ethan wouldn't stand a chance.
Panic spurred Cecily into action. She snatched her phone and quickly found the number for Rose.
The phone rang for a long while before someone answered.
"Hello."
The voice was old but strong. It was the butler, Felix Parker.
"Felix, it's Cecily."
There was a brief pause, and then his tone shifted, becoming polite but unmistakably distant. "How may I assist you?"
"Where is Ethan? Put him on the phone," Cecily said, cutting straight to the point.
His voice remained calm. "My apologies. Mr. Ethan Hayes is in his lessons. Mrs. Rose Hayes has given explicit instructions that he is not to be disturbed."
So it was the same trick again?
Cecily's temper flared hot and fast.
"Lessons? He is practically illiterate. What lessons could he possibly be in? Felix, this isn't a request. I want to speak to my son. Now."