Chapter 4

The sea breeze felt so good.

I carried my toolbox, sat in the beach lounge, and opened bottles of various colors.

I held a man's well-defined hand, gently brushed on the shiny polish, and blew away any dust I spotted.

The man's body stiffened for a moment. "It's really hard to get an appointment with you."

I worked on his nails one by one. "I'm the boss, you know. Getting me to do your nails once a month is already a big deal."

I carefully placed a pink heart sticker on his middle fingernail.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

I looked up and met the man's deep eyes. He was watching me.

Suddenly, he reached out and covered my eyes.

His warm lips pressed against mine. "Vivian, I'm a guy. Manicures aren't really my thing."

He was the first man who slept with me at the villa, a well-built guy with lean muscles, strong but not intimidating.

Three minutes later, I pushed him away and slapped him.

My hand hurt from the impact.

"My name is Ethan Blake," he said.

"I know," I replied.

Ethan paused for a moment, then reached out and held my red hand, blowing on it. "It hurts, doesn't it? I remember you're sensitive to pain."

Saying that now was really pointless.

A beauty never went back to her ex.

I made up an excuse and left.

Ethan chased after me. "Marcus has hated women since he was a kid and swore he'd turn away from temptations. As his wife, you must have suffered a lot. But I'm different. You were happy with me, weren't you?"

I stopped in my tracks.

Light streamed in behind him, and it made him look all the more handsome.

I couldn't bring myself to make things difficult for a handsome guy.

I took a few more steps and stopped.

From this angle, he looked a lot less handsome.

I slapped him without hesitation. "What are you talking about? I don't understand. You're just my manicure client. I'm married, so please respect me and stay away from me."

I had to pretend to be the victim here.

I wouldn't let him lay it all out with me.

Ethan tried to blow on my palm again, but I didn't let him. I shook him off, stepped into my 25,000-dollar high heels, grabbed my 130,000-dollar Chanel bag, and turned to get into the million-dollar Ferrari.

Out of nowhere, I came face-to-face with a cold, intimidating man.

Marcus tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, a sign he was pissed. "Has he been in touch with you all this time?"

He'd just gotten into a fight with Nathan, and there was a bruise on his face, making his already cold features look even more menacing.

I slid into the passenger seat.

Marcus's eyes stayed locked on me the whole time.

"He's just one of my manicure clients, always spouting random nonsense." I laughed, cupping his face with both hands. "Maybe he's lost his mind. Honey, don't get jealous."

Marcus never opened up his social circle to me, so I had to act as though I knew none of his friends.

I could feel Marcus tense up for a second.

He quietly moved my hands off his face and then let go of the handbrake, as though trying to smooth things over. "I'm driving."

I curled up in the passenger seat, rubbing my eyes. "I know. You're sick of me already."

The tires screeched across the pavement.

Marcus shot me a sideways glance, his throat moving as he swallowed hard.

He looked like he wanted to say something but stayed silent.

The car started rolling again.

I hugged my knees. "You were so into me back then. We used to have sex right by the floor-to-ceiling windows, even on top of the piano. Then you changed. You stopped liking it when I kissed you first. After that, it was always from behind."

He slammed on the brakes.

I was startled.

Marcus sat there, his face dark as thunder.

He pushed open the door. "I need a smoke."

He really did step out to smoke. It was empty by the beach. The sea breeze tossed his hair all over the place.

I scooted over to the window for a better look. He looked lonely from behind, his shirt pulled tight over his shoulders. With one knee propped up on the rocks and a cigarette dangling from his fingers, he looked like a shot out of a movie.

Marcus must be feeling frustrated out there. That was exactly what he deserved.

I locked up, wrapped myself in the blanket, and went right to sleep.

*****

The next morning, a banging on the window jolted me awake.

Marcus's face was stone-cold, dark circles under his eyes, his hair a windblown disaster. He was leaning against the car, pounding on the door with one hand.

"Honey," I called out.

I reached out and fixed his hair lovingly. "I'm a scaredy-cat, you know. Sleeping alone freaks me out, so I locked up. Why didn't you wake me?"

Marcus's face somehow got even darker.

He'd been yelling for me forever. The door was one hit away from breaking down.

"The phone was right there in the driver's seat, but he couldn't reach it.

I rubbed my greasy head against his arm and said, "You're so sweet. You'd rather freeze and stay awake than wake me up."

Marcus stared at me for a second, then suddenly reached up, grabbed the back of my neck, and kissed me.

It was my first kiss with my husband, but I pushed him away.

Marcus froze, clearly caught off guard.

"It's broad daylight, Marcus. Give it a rest," I said.