“Why?”
“Because he’s an aristocratic twat,” he said, rolling his eyes. “They care about things like that.”
“Obviously we’re not in the same boat since you're not married. Unless?”
He smiled, taking a drink of his scotch. “No, I'm not married. I wouldn't be putting wagers on other people's wives if I was married.”
The joke was kind of dark, but I laughed.
“I bet your family would recoil in horror if they knew I was here now.”
“They would, but I don't really care what they think. I'm the only person who has to be pleased with my life choices. If I followed what they wanted for me, I'd just end up like them. Repressed, held down by centuries of traditions that don't make sense anymore.”
I went up and sat down next to him. “That's admirable in a weird way.”
“Not many people call it admirable. Usually, I get selfish, foolish, disrespectful.”
“Well, yeah it's all those things too, but it can be admirable at the same time.”
He laughed. “The way I see it, they're asking me to live by rules that were written before I showed up, which I never had a chance to agree to. I didn't ask for them to be my parents. I didn't ask to be born into this family, and just because I was, doesn't mean that I can't be who I am. I'm not responsible for their legacy. The only person I'm responsible for is me.”
“That's an interesting philosophy.”
He shrugged. “That's just how I try to do things. I figure that as long as I'm not hurting anybody, then I should be allowed to do it.”
“It must have been hard standing up to your family like that,” I said, partly thinking out loud. We had similar backgrounds. I knew that I never could have stood up to my family the way he had. That was why I was in this current situation in the first place. They would have disowned me or worse but from here, I was curious what truly could be worse than what was happening now.
“Yeah, well they don't like it but there isn’t anything they can do about it, is there?” His arm went up and went around the back of the sofa, resting on my shoulders. My body inched closer to his.
I didn't hate this. I didn't hate this at all. It was kind of nice and getting better by the second.
“You know,” I started to say, but then I trailed off because his hand started making the little shapes on my shoulder. It trailed up the skin and took a light grip on my neck. I had the vague thought to ask him to stop but then what if he actually did?
“What?” he asked. What indeed. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking. I was allowing myself to feel, and right then, I felt good. I felt comfortable. I felt betrayed by my husband, but comforted by this... this stranger, even though he didn't feel like one anymore.
I wanted him. Like, wanted him. A discovery like that should have made me feel guilty, but it didn’t.
Why not?
Cheating on my husband had never crossed my mind before. Never. As soon as I said my vows, I meant them, even though he wasn't my choice and I wasn't sure that he would do the same for me.
Why not? Why not take the plunge? I was in a beautiful suite with a beautiful man who was attracted to me.
I could have ended up with a completely disgusting toad who won me in a card game, but instead, it was this guy. A young, handsome playboy with a rebellious streak and a great body if the muscles in his arm were anything to go by.
Why not? I basically had my husband's blessing. What would he do if he won someone's wife in a game?
“I think I need another drink,” I said. He got up and poured us both new drinks.
“Yeah, so I was saying,” I said.
“What is it?” he asked, sitting. If I didn't do it now, my nerve would run out. I leaned in and I kissed him. Heat sizzled between us and I grabbed the collar of his shirt, but then he pushed me away. His blue eyes were clouded but intense, searching mine.
“Babe,” he said. “Are you sure you want this? I never expected it coming up here. I swear,” he said probably reading disbelief on my face. “I thought your husband was crazy for putting you up in the game and I knew that me winning would give you the best shot, so you didn’t end up with some old lout. I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with.”
“This has nothing to do with my husband.”
He tucked some of my hair behind my ear, still searching my eyes, giving me a chance to tell him to stop. “Are you sure about that? I don't consider you a prize.”