Julian stormed out of the kitchen and into his room, slamming the door behind him. Normally, he was a calm man who could endure a lot, but food was his one weakness. How dare she make pancakes and not leave him a single one? Worse — how dare she act as if it was normal? He wasn't sure what angered him more: her indifference or her nerve.
It was his house, for God's sake. If she wanted to stay here, there would be rules. With a tight smile that quickly turned mischievous, he grabbed a notepad and began drafting "ground rules."
Meanwhile, Alex had finished tidying up and returned to the guest room she'd slept in. She lay on the bed, headphones in, scrolling through her phone. She remembered Julian's expression when he'd stalked off and grinned. He thought he could buy a wife? Please. She'd show him she wasn't for sale.
Besides, what was he so worked up about? Did he actually expect her to cook for him? On the first day? Delusional. She hummed softly to her favorite song, enjoying the mental image of his frustration.
Minutes later, the door flew open with a loud bang. Alex jolted upright, yanking out her headphones.
"What the hell, Blackwood?!"
Julian stood in the doorway, his face unreadable. "We need to set some ground rules," he said coolly.
Alex frowned. "What?"
"Ground rules," he repeated, stepping inside and shutting the door.
She sat up straighter, glaring as he moved closer — close enough that the air between them felt heavy.
"Why are you here, Blackwood?" she demanded.
He gave a humorless smile. "If you didn't notice, wife, this is our matrimonial room. And that—" he gestured at the bed "—is our matrimonial bed."
Alex's eyes flicked to the king-sized bed, then back at him. "So?"
"Why didn't you make my breakfast?" he asked.
Alex blinked, then burst out laughing. "Oh, that's why you're here?"
His brows drew together. "Isn't that reason enough? How can you cook without cooking for me?"
"What?" She stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "You bargained for a wedding, not a slave. I'm your wife on paper, Blackwood, not your housemaid. Show me where it says I have to play perfect wife."
"My point exactly." Julian reached into his pocket and produced two neatly printed sheets, both signed at the bottom with his elegant signature.
Alex skimmed the first page without reading the details, then smirked. "What the hell is this?"
"Can't you read?" he shot back.
Her lips tightened as she actually read it. A few seconds later, she threw her head back and laughed until tears prickled her eyes.
Julian waited, arms folded, jaw ticking. "Will you sign or what?"
"Sign?" She laughed harder. "Who's going to sign this piece of crap? I mustn't cook for myself alone? I must ask permission before touching anything in the house?" She clutched her stomach, laughing again. "Oh, Blackwood, I had no idea you could be so creative."
Then her tone chilled. "I won't sign this nonsense. You can't trap me with stupid rules, okay? I didn't ask for this marriage — you did. You know what people do with bad decisions? They live with them. If you want someone to cook for you, hire a maid. Don't try to turn me into your f**king maid."
With that, she tore the papers into bits and threw them at him.
Julian's nostrils flared. She was impossible. All he wanted was to coexist peacefully — at least for now — and she was making it unbearable.
"Wife," he said in a low, dangerous tone.
"F**k you, Blackwood. Get out!"
She turned away and flopped onto the bed.
He moved before he thought, grabbing her shoulder to turn her toward him — but she rolled sharply, and he lost his balance, landing on the mattress beside her.
"Alex—"
She didn't let him finish. He knelt behind her, but she squirmed, trying to get away.
"Let go, Blackwood."
"Wait—"
Her fist connected with his jaw. He winced. Damn, she's strong.
Julian quickly overpowered her despite the flurry of kicks from her impossibly tight jeans. He caught her wrists and pinned them behind her back. For one ridiculous second, he considered giving her a swat just to get her attention — but even he wasn't stupid enough to try that.
"Let go, Blackwood, or I'll scream," she warned.
He believed her. "Can you just calm down for a moment?"
"Not while you've got me pinned," she said, breathless.
"I'll let go when I'm sure you won't hit me again," he said evenly.
Fair enough, she thought. She'd already punched him once. Her breathing slowed until the tension eased out of her body. Slowly, Julian released her wrists but stayed seated on the bed.
Alex sat up next to him. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, both catching their breath.
Julian broke the silence first. "You've had fight training?"
Alex gave a short laugh. "Just a few classes. Why? Because of the punch?"
Julian nodded, rubbing his jaw. "You're strong. Do you usually attack men like that?"
"Only when they attack me," she said lightly.
"But I didn't."
"It looked like you did." Her voice softened slightly. "But if you weren't trying to attack me, then what were you trying to do?"