Read The Bride Who Wouldn't for Free Online

Isaak looked to his wife, and he might as well have been in the museum and staring at the Mona Lisa for the slight smile on Kate’s face had him curious as to what was going on in her mind.
    They entered through a glass revolving door. The hotel was familiar to Isaak for he had stayed here on occasion when he was in Paris on business, but as they stepped into their suite, he momentarily halted. It felt as if he knew this suite, from the Savonnerie carpet to the Louis XIV furnishings, and yet he had not stayed in this suite before.
    Isaak frowned and decided he must have stayed in one similar but he did not dwell on it for now for he was watching Kate who, having walked around the suite, was opening the grand windows and staring out to the square.
    The hotel had suggested, given it was their wedding night, that their luggage be sent ahead so there would not be the disruption of the staff unpacking their things. That had seemed an unnecessary detail to Isaak at the time.
    He understood it now for he ached to be alone with Kate but instead the staff were quietly unpacking and so he opened up the champagne and handed her a glass, which she took with a shaking hand.
    The touch of his hand on her bare shoulder had Kate jump a fraction and the feel of his fingers running down the tiny buttons of her bridal dress made her shiver, though not with revulsion.
    His scent, the feel of his hand gently kneading the tense muscles, the undeniable ardor that he had for her was dangerously appealing. The wish for her body to respond, as any normal woman’s would, had Kate choke down a sob that was building.
    The suite was everything Kate could have ever dreamed of for her wedding night. Her brief inspection had revealed that a huge marble bath had been filled and the bathroom was bathed in candlelight, she could almost feel it beckoning her now. The furnishings in the suite would usually have beguiled but it was the vast high bed with its silk quilt turned back and the roses and petals on it that brought tears to her eyes.
    It should be perfect.
    It almost was.
    Isaak’s mouth was now nuzzling at her shoulder, his fingers at the clasp of her choker and she wanted him to unlatch it as he French-kissed the base of her neck. His breath was a warm tickle, his tongue seducing that patch of skin over and over and it almost bought her undone for she wanted to arch her neck, she wanted to turn to his arms.
    But even if it was perfect, even if their marriage wasn’t a sham, Kate cringed inside as she recalled Basil’s attempts at making love and her reaction to the same. How she had sobbed and made a fool of herself with a man who knew her problem, how much worse would she be with a man who did not know her at all?
    The once-nice Basil had called her a frigid bitch and she would die rather than have Isaak do the same.
    Paris glittered, the most seductive city in the world, yet Kate looked at it with loathing. The column in the square stood as if to mock her—tall, imposing, phallic—it reminded her that it was ice that ran though her body.
    “Kate…” Isaak turned her around. He thought no less of Kate that she was paid to be here.
    Business could be beautiful too.
    And she was.
    She felt his finger on her cheek and it was surprisingly tender, and then he removed the glass from her hand.
    Kate knew nothing about sex and certainly nothing about what went on when passion was funded.
    She had not thought about it, for it simply would not happen, yet, now, as he removed the glass from her hand, it was briefly considered. His touch seemed far from manufactured and, had she thought about it, she would not have expected such tender intimacy, nor a patient mouth to so gently seduce.
    As his mouth moved to hers Kate pulled her face away the moment she heard the staff discreetly leave and the soft close of the door. “We’re alone now,” she said.
    “I know,” Isaak smiled.
    “So we can stop acting.”
    “Acting?” Isaak checked, for he had felt