Overwhelmed, my lips tilted a little at his words and my worried glare shot straight to his blue eyes which faded into shades of dark blue as he held my stare in his.
Were we going back to Brussels?
A chill ran down my spine, prompting me to stay still and my lips hardened on instinct at the flickering nature of my tongue.
If we were going back to Brussels, then the fear of being caught up in this game between Dwain and Elizabeth would be relieved from my chest.
Elizabeth had mentioned a switch between the both of us, once the honeymoon was over, not only that; the truth as to why Elizabeth looked identical to me, but Megan didn't, could be obtained from my parent's mouths or Elizabeth's Grandma's.
"Stop staring at me, Lisa." Dwain made a throat noise and slid his mobile phone into one of his pockets. With a swift parting of lips, he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his pants, followed by a sudden release of breath. "It's very shameful."
I straddled out of my trend of thoughts, not so satisfied with his far-fetched courtesy of calling my attention to his face, after all, it was him to blame for haven brought this messed up situation to himself.
Then, like it wasn't enough, he mentioned, a change of plans, ' leaving me to guess what it was all about.
I snapped my fingers together, making sure Dwain took note of the irritation in my tune. "Wait, is Mr. Horton irritated by an innocent stare?"
How did he want me to react?
Crawl on my knees and lick his toes in other for him to hint to me about his sudden change of plans?
if so, then, he got it all wrong.
Getting used to a bunch of humans who spent their time ignoring their least favorite kid, it was obvious that I was immune to conflicting comments like; being called shameful.
"Should thy Majesty be reminded of the fact that I'm still waiting on the magical spell needed to reveal this, 'change of plans, ' of his?"
Smoothing my shoulders, I trusted my chin to match his height, but damn, he towered over me like a god, not even my highest heel would have matched his height.
His brows furrowed into a frown as he assessed my feminine features.
Dwain's parted lips closed on instinct and pleated into a thin line, descending into multiple layers of silence.
The silence which my fingers itched to pinch, layer by layer, and pull out his thoughts, for he didn't mention what this change of plan was about.
"Have you tongue your tongue? " I teased, a smile ghosting on my lips.
It was a refined pleasure to get Dwain on his nerves these past days, stealing every bit of his comfort and hitting the guy hard with his arrogance.
It was a pity to watch him stare in silence and let his pride rest at the bottom of his chest.
I began to think of my efforts as a vain trial to crack through his heart of stone. "Is Daddy being silent?"
"Elisabeth, " he thundered, his lips twitching up and molding his darkening facial expression.
His eyes of steel not giving my little figure a break, "Don't play with me, but if brave enough, My Lady should venture. Daddy, won't mind making her regret it."
Dwain's flirtatious lip suck didn't fade unnoticed.
Taking one step back, I couldn't flush his raspy and thick Belgian accent from my mind.
Why was it sexy and tingling in all the wrong places?
His tone was serious, far from a threat, but manly enough to toss my breath through a narrow window.
He'd once addressed me as his lady, but today's tune made it more appealing and a thousand times hot.
How did our conversation travel from timid to steamy this fast?
"There's a queue downstairs waiting on my services. Should I take my leave now or rather listen to your arguments for an additional tip?"
Dang, it!
Why didn't I keep in mind the presence of our teenage escort?
Shit, my mouth had ranted like a parrot, pushing me into the arms of embarrassment.
I deepened a bite into my finger, liberating an array of curses under my breath, not daring to spare a single glance at our escort nor casting one at Dwain.
A mouse hole would have been handy, to fit in my bag of humiliation.
"Not at all. Pardon the immaturity of my wife, her excitement is all over the place. Go on, lead the way. If in need of an additional tip, have this, " Dwain brought out a wallet from his pocket and held a couple of dollars to the teenager. "Have these, they are all yours."
"Thank you, sir."
His charitable act was for show.
Who was he trying to impress?
It took minutes for me to glance at our surroundings and pick up clues.
Gosh, Dwain and the escort had already vanished down the hallway, abandoning me to myself.
"Not again Mr. Horton." I threw my hands over my head and quickened my steps through the hallway ahead of me. "I'm coming for you.'
Sweat swiveled down my face, sticking my gown to my skin as my long strides breezed through three-quarters of the continuous corridor.
Coming to an abrupt halt in my track at the sight of him, anxiety stole my stability, threatening to slug me to the floor but fast enough, I pressed myself to the wall.
His back was turned to me as he held his mobile to his ear and leaned one hand to the door of our supposed hotel room.
Our luggage was spread out at the sole of his crossed feet and the money-stalker-escort of ours was out of earshot for my furry.
Taking longer strides to ambush him in his call, I matched behind my husband and slid into his line of sight, my face lifting to his wobbling lips.
"Is this a game to you? Your first attempt was at the airport. What's up with abandoning me, Mr. Horton?"
Behind my words was hidden the pain of abandonment from my parents.
The little bits of abandonment made up my entire eighteen years of living as a Blien with strict precision on how my so-called parents used to treat me.
"Ellis, get out of my sight. After all, it's a common cold and a simple fever."
She would say in annoyance, my mom, Felicia Bien.
If not for papa's sister Evelyn, who knew what would have become of me when my papa stood by his wife and said my ill health wasn't one to be bothered by?
In the physical realm, my dialogue seemed plain but to my soul, I grieved for an outlet, one which could seize me from all these memories.
Nobody understood me and it turned out; I couldn't understand myself either.
Stephen had walked out of me, and so did mama, only Evelyn showed me love and rushed me to a Health Care Center that night.
Ops, where did my sister go?
Megan was out partying as usual, the favorite daughter.
I pulled air into my lungs and did a quick release to hide the hints of tears threatening to run down my eyes.
Dwain's mouth, wide-set and well-shaped, curved up on one corner and he dropped his call. "Yes, it's brilliant of you, and remember to keep me posted."
"Stop shying away from my questions."
"Simple, stop asking." He raked a hand through his scattered locks of hair, giving them an even messy look; a kind of messy look that was sexy.
It took a lot of effort plus self-control not to tangle one's fingers through them, feeling its signature softness a.k.a silky nature in thy hands.
"Your sayings and doings make me question your reasons."
That phrase of mine could be considered far-fetched, but that was the only one that summarized my thoughts about this species of human; Dwain.
Sometimes, he was all moody and cocky, and other times, he was this playful guy next door.
Dwain had a bipolar personality.
"Oh? What's the worry?"
"What's this change of plans? You are yet to address the topic."
"Your change of plans?" He asked. "Interesting, why didn't you tell me? I didn't know you had one."
"Are you serious?" I slammed my fist on his lower abdomen, into the hardness of his abs, eight bars of chocolate. "I mean yours, asshole. "
I suppressed a chuckle from escaping my lips.
"Ouch, that's my abdomen, not a kickboxing bag," he wailed and placed a protective hand on his abdomen, " how old are you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what you think, " he cocked a brow at me, a grin spreading on his lips.
What else but a healthy laugh?
He shot my childishness to my face, taking advantage of my thoughts to blackmail me.
But truth be told, my attitude took a childish turn which made me question my age once more.
"Old enough to punch you where it hurts real bad."
"Enough. I don't like where this discussion is going, so let me break this to you," he paused and regain his speech seconds after. "My appointment is pushed to later this afternoon and my plans for this morning have changed."
"And?"
"I'm taking you out for breakfast instead, " a smile played on his lips.
Why he ended up smiling from ear to ear, I didn't know but one thing was sure; if he played me around, then it was certain that his night would be spent on a rug.
BREAKFAST AT MCDONALD'S AND my wish was his command.
We didn't waste any more seconds, but rather made our way to the hotel's lobby and hopped into Dwain's car.
The drive went silent as usual and we stopped by a McDonald's drive-thru at Times Square for an all-in-one breakfast.
All attempts to bring up a conversation failed, so I stopped trying.
It was never often to find Dwain smiling or laughing, so it didn't surprise me when his natural grin and frown replaced the bits of amusement on his face once we got back to Castle River.
Dwain made sure that every luggage of ours was secured in our hotel room by the hotel staff.
Our dresses stood proudly on hangers in the floor-to-ceiling closet next to the tall glass walls of our bathroom.
Floor-to-ceiling glass windows towered the space opposite our bed, providing me with the most beautiful view of the town and commercial avenues even though noise from beneath stretched its way up.
The loud tractors and cultural songs couldn't be avoided.
The number of times I spaced out at the scandalous nature of the bathroom was uncountable.
Dwain didn't find any inconvenience with a transparent bathroom which provided a view of its users' nakedness.
He plopped himself into the comforts of the white sheets and tucked his thighs into the grey blanket which was neatly folded and stretched on the bed.
As said by the receptionist, no sofas were in sight, not even a single chair or coffee table for a calm reading or work session; that didn't bother Dwain either.
I applauded Tasha for her choice in style and comfort; picking out a compartment as splendid as the insides of, 'the Horton's mansion.'
The grey and white theme for the walls of our room, blended nicely with the brown polished wood layering the floor, contrasting the green plants in the suit; these plants reminded me of the unique beauty of nature.
In the early hours of the afternoon, Dwain took a bath and changed into a business-like kind of outfit.
His thick hair was brushed and coiled into soft waves that tapered behind his ears and neck, glittering like gold under the sunlight.
My husband tucked a black shirt which was opened halfway through his chest and sleeves rolled up to his elbow, into grey pants, which brushed over his ankle.
He slipped his feet into a pair of black leather shoes and wore a silver watch around his wrist.
Holding his Mac Book Pro in one hand, he strode towards me. "I'm attending a meeting downstairs. Make yourself comfortable and wait for me, it won't take long."
He walked out of me, his cologne filling my private space and aftershave tickling my nostrils.
"Before I forget," he swirled around on the white rug and held out a credit card to me. "Here is what I promised. Make reasonable use of Mrs. Horton."
"But-"
The door slammed in my face.
It had been an hour and Dwain wasn't back yet.
I stilled in the middle of reading a random fashion magazine and glanced at the time on the clock in our room.
Ignoring the time and drowning all my focus in the magazine, I didn't take note of the additional two hours which passed by plus the grumbling in my stomach.
Skipping out of bed, I closed the curtains at the windows and hurried to the bathroom for a stress-relieving shower, happy for Dwain's absence.
I could take a bath without being worried about his blue pair of eyes shooting daggers at my nudity.
Minutes later, I stood out of the bathroom, in a white towel, and used my free hand to blow-dry my hair with a hairdryer for extra minutes.
When it was smooth enough, I threw a purple sweater over my head and matched it to white skinny jeans before flat ironing the ends of my hair so they could curl naturally around my back and shoulders.
Satisfied with my new look, I picked a tennis high heel from my sets of shoes and breezed out of the room, holding my small-to-fit-anything pouch in one hand.
I headed down to the first floor of the hotel to ask for directions to the hotel's restaurant.
The receptionist who happened to be a male instead of Miss Deacon asked a concierge to lead the way.
Even with a glance at the hotel's conference rooms on our way to the restaurant, I didn't see Dwain.
He was gone for more than four hours already.
I heaved a sigh.
"Here, have a seat ma'am, one of our staff will be here to pick up your order in a minute."
"Thanks," I mumbled to the aging man in a crisp black suit and settled in a seat around a well-decorated circular table.
"Can I have a glass of water and a slice of lime while waiting, please?"
The man nodded before leaving.
It didn't take long for the glass of water and a slice of lime to be brought.
I sipped from my straw while waiting for a waiter to bring my meal.
Just a handful of people were at the restaurant, mostly couples, on a romantic date or launch, something of that sort.
I didn't take note of when this guy had entered the restaurant, but his hand was raised at me, waving in continuous motion.
As if it wasn't enough, the guy walked to my table and sat his butt in the seat opposite mine.
"Hello, baby girl," he mumbled and removed his dark shades of glasses.
One, he didn't ask for permission to sit at my table, two he called me baby girl.
I stopped sipping from my straw and spared him a second glance, registering his designer suit and brown-tanned skin.
His hair was chocolate brown, complementing his fine pair of brown eyes.
I lowered my gaze to his aristocratic nose. "Are you lost baby boy?"
He placed his hand behind his head, crossed his legs, and leaned into the chair. "Lost in the beauty of a pretty girl. So, what's that angelic name?"
"Excuse me?" I raised my left finger to his face and showed him the golden band on my finger. "I'm married."
"It's not a problem for me baby girl. We can have fun and that's all. What do you think?"
He placed his two hands behind his head and blew a kiss at me.
I hissed. "I won't be hitting on random married women If I were in your shoes."
"Why so?"
He leaned his body close to mine, his eyes capturing my gaze.
"One dirty advance from you towards her and that dick of yours shall be ripped off," another male groaned.
This strange guy and I turned our heads at the same time and found Dwain behind us.
His face darkened, his shoulders tensed while his free hand clenched and unclenched with a disapproving expression spreading on his face.
"I would have arrived earlier if I knew of your beautiful acquaintance." The strange guy chuckled and stood on his feet to catch Dwain's hand in his. "I have been waiting for you."
"She's off-limits, Mr. Donevan." Dwain snorted in annoyance. "Don't mess with my wife."
Mr. clasped Dwain's hand in a handshake. "How come you didn't invite me to your wedding?"
"Can we get started with the meeting?" Dwain asked and turned his scorching glare at me. "Missed me, Mrs. Horton?"