Silva and the Stars

3 | claim me as yours

"You really made a home for yourself," I say wryly as I look around the small section of the library that Rachel has partitioned for herself.

"Miss Silva, I found the book you requested," a young man with red hair rounds the corner, carrying a tome in his hands.

I notice his adoring look a mile away, his eyes caressing my wife, as he walks over to hand it to her. Rachel receives it with a smile, hefting the heavy book easily. "Thank you, Sam, and thank you for looking after this spot for me."

He clears his throat, his very pale skin reddening. "It's my pleasure, Miss Silva."

I step closer to Rachel and for the first time, Sam notices my presence.

I lightly touch Rachel's lower back, my fingers brushing against the soft material of her blouse, it's paper thin, and as my palm rests there I'm aware of the warmth of her skin beneath. "It's actually Mrs Lawson now."

I look down into Rachel's eyes and see her burnished hazel ones glaring up at me. "Right Rach?"

"Right." I can see that she's gritting her teeth. I love the fire in her eyes. Where her apathy felt like it cleaved straight through me, her attention makes me feel like I'm basking in the glory of a warm summer day.

No wonder Sam is looking at her with stars in his horny eyes.

I look up and see Sam still standing there, a crestfallen expression overtaking his face at this new development.

Rachel takes pity on him. "I'll let you know if there's anything else we need."

He nods and finally moves away, disappearing behind a rack of shelves.

Rachel rounds on me as soon as he's out of earshot.

"Why did you do that?" She's glaring at me, her eyebrows drawn. 

Doesn't she realise that this is the kind of adrenaline hit I live for? Not physically endangering myself, but being near her, trading words, in a battle of wits and willpower.

It was like this in law school, when we were in the same class and just as determined to best each other. And it was like this basically every day working our way up in our father's company, both looking to become the next top dog. We just didn't expect them to cark it before one of us was declared victorious. 

We definitely didn't expect them to die together, trapped in their car, as a truck lost its brakes going down the steep hill, crunching their car as easily as a beer can underneath a boot.

And we never in our wildest dreams imagined calling a truce, saying 'I do' and binding ourselves in unholy matrimony to protect our company by birthright but also by blood and fucking toil from Connor.

"Why do you think?"

Rachel looks incredulous. "Because you're like a freaking dog who feels the need to pee on things in order to declare his territory?"

"Hmm, that's not a half bad idea," I muse.

This only inflames Rachel more. "I'm not a piece of meat that you can claim."

"Wow, you're really running with this dog analogy," I reply teasingly. I can't resist touching her, my fingers glancing against her ear as I move a bit of hair that's in her face out of the way. I don't miss the way her lungs fill with air. Or how she looks at me with a hint of vulnerability, as if she doesn't want to bite my finger off for daring to touch her.

Excitement channels through me when I realise how close we are. And how she hasn't chosen to move away.

"As to my claiming you..." I let her thoughts run wild for a moment. "I'm entitled to declaring you my wife since I'm your husband. Just as you could claim me as yours if you are so inclined."

I examine her long lashes brushing down, the gentle slope of her neck, her dusky rose lips, enraptured by her beauty. To regain a modicum of control I add, "You really do need my help today if you didn't even read our marriage contract properly."

"You infuriate me," Rachel whispers. If I didn't speak English, I might have mistaken her words for a loving exchange, until she adds with much more severity than is warranted, "I loathe the person who decides to have children with you."

"You must hate yourself a lot," I smirk. "Because as my wife, you're most likely to bear my heirs."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "As if you don't have some woman on the side willing to spread her legs at a moment's notice. I know rich boys all have affairs, the inflated ego, thinking the world is entitled to you." She sneers in derision. "You can't seem to help it."

I want to grip her tightly, impress the gravity of my response on her. But I don't, instead, I ground my hands into fists at my side and inhale deeply.

"I would never disrespect you like that." My gaze locks onto hers and holds. "This marriage may be a sham to you, but I am a man of my word. I swore it would only be you, and for as long as we're together, that will never be in doubt. You entered this marriage of your own free will, and you can exit this marriage with it too."

Rachel nods, somewhat chastened. "I understand. I'm sorry for judging you like that. Your father..." She trails off.

I sigh. "I am not my father."

For the first time today Rachel smiles at me. And I was so wrong before, her ire isn't the best thing, it's this damn radiant smile. It's like a jolt of electricity straight to the chest.

"No, you're most definitely not."

I try to regulate my breathing. I don't want her to see how much she affected me. How much her smile undoes me. It's clearly not fair.

"As much as I'm enjoying this tête-à-tête, I want to put our combined brainpower to use and learn how to waive any claim Connor has to our company."

Another blinding smile is sent my way. "Damn right. Let's get to it."

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a/n: Thanks for reading! I'd be so grateful for any feedback you have so feel free to vote and comment your thoughts. ♡