Read The Stranger I Married for Free Online

years, but he never voiced an opinion, never gave a hint of what he would prefer. “I would like you to decide,” she said, turning to face him.
“Me?” He frowned, which did nothing to lessen his appeal.
Hargreaves was very handsome with his aquiline nose and dark eyes. His black hair was graying at the temples, a distinguishing feature that only served to increase his attractiveness. A renowned swordsman, his body displayed the lanky grace of one who was expert in the sport of fencing. The earl was well-liked, and well-respected. Women wanted him, and Isabel was no exception. A widower with two sons, he had no need for a wife, and he was good-natured. She usually enjoyed his company. In bed, and out.
“Yes, you,” she said. “What would you like to do?”
“Whatever you desire,” he said smoothly. “As always, I live for your happiness.”
“It would make me happy to know what you want,” she retorted.
Hargreaves’ smile faded. “Why are you so out of sorts this evening?”
“Asking for your opinion does not make me out of sorts.”
“Then why are you snapping at me?” he complained.
Isabel closed her eyes, and tamped down her frustration. Her irritation with John was Gray’s fault. She looked at Hargreaves, and caught up his hand in hers. “What would you like to do? If we could do anything at all, what would give you the most pleasure?”
His scowl lifted as his lips curved in a sultry smile. He reached out, and stroked the tiny bit of skin that was visible between her short sleeve and long glove. Unlike Gray’s touch, it did not make her burn, but it did spread a gentle warmth that Hargreaves could stoke into a fire. “Your company gives me the most pleasure, Isabel. You know this.”
“Then I will see you at your home shortly,” she murmured.
He left immediately. Isabel waited a discreet amount of time, and then she made her egress as well. During the carriage ride to Hargreaves House, she brooded over her situation and considered what, if any, options she had. John noted her preoccupation the moment she entered his bedroom.
“Tell me what troubles you,” he murmured, as he removed her cloak.
She sighed and admitted, “Lord Grayson has returned.”
“Bloody hell.” Hargreaves circled her and faced her head on. “What does he want?”
“To live in his home, to regain his social life.”
John cupped her face with his hand. “What does he want with you?”
She noted his distress, and sought to soothe him. “Obviously I am here with you, and he is at home. You know how Grayson is.”
“I know how he was, but that was four years ago.” He moved away, pouring himself a drink. When he held the decanter up to her, she nodded gratefully. “I do not know how to feel about this, Isabel.”
“You should not feel anything. His return does not affect you.” Not like it affected her.
“I would be foolish not see how it could affect me in the future.”
“John.” She shook her head and kicked off her slippers. What could she say? Perhaps Gray’s advances toward her had not been an anomaly. It was possible her husband would still want her in the morning. Then again, perhaps the stress of returning had addled him in some way. She could only hope that the latter was true. A girl should only have to live with one man like Pelham in a lifetime. “No one knows what the future will bring.”
“God, Isabel. Do not spout phrases like that.” He tossed back his drink and poured another.
“What would like me to say?” she asked, hating that she could offer no words of comfort and still tell the truth.
He set his snifter down so hard the reddish liquid sloshed over the sides. Hargreaves ignored it, and came to her. “I want you to tell me that it does not matter that he has returned.”
“I cannot.”
She sighed, and lifted to her tiptoes to kiss the clenched line of his jaw. His arms came around her, and squeezed her tight. “You know I cannot. I wish I could.”
Taking the glass from her,