Ashley's heels clicked against the marble floors, the sound echoing faintly in the vast foyer of Blackwood Estate. She tried to steady her racing heart, but it wasn't the size of the house or the grandeur of the chandeliers making her pulse quicken. It was Julian. The man she was supposed to despise, yet whose presence left her acutely aware of every inch of his own body.
The estate was breathtaking. She was impressed beyond measure.Vaulted ceilings stretched high above, adorned with intricate plasterwork and crystal chandeliers that scattered soft light like delicate sparks. She couldn't even fault his taste. Every corner of the home whispered wealth and precision, reflecting Julian.
He moved through the house with the ease of a man who owned not just the property but the world it represented. Every step was measured, every glance purposeful. Ashley noticed all the subtle details about him and his house, she told herself she was observing, analyzing professional , detached.
A chef appeared in the kitchen doorway, carrying a tray of delicacies, the aromas teasing her senses. The driver, stoic and alert, lingered by the door. A house manager nodded politely as they passed. Julian introduced them with his usual efficiency, names and roles rolling off his tongue effortlessly.
"You can hire more staff if you like," he said casually, glancing at her. "Housekeeping, personal assistant, whatever you need."
Ashley arched an eyebrow. "You make it sound so… simple, like ordering coffee."
"It is simple," Julian replied evenly. "Efficiency is my preference."
She followed him up the staircase, the driver carrying her suitcase, the soft carpet muting their steps. Her mind raced. One week. One week of sharing a space with Julian Blackwood, legally married yet emotionally chaotic. She had not anticipated the depth of her frustration or the subtle excitement that flared every time he was near.
The bedroom doorway appeared at the end of the hall, and Ashley froze. The room was vast, elegant, and yet intimate in its understated luxury. A king-sized bed dominated the space, dressed in silvery-gray linens with an array of throw pillows arranged perfectly. The windows offered a bird eye view of the gardens, softly lit by strategically placed lanterns. Soft music drifted from the sound system, classical and calming, yet somehow deliberate.
Ashley's chest tightened. She was supposed to be furious, indignant, determined to maintain her dignity. But the sight of the bed, the house, and Julian's controlled composure made her stomach flutter in a way she refused to acknowledge. This was as personal as they've ever been asides the night they consummated their marriage.
"I…" she began, stepping back instinctively.
Julian leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket. "It's no big deal," he said, voice low, calm, casual. "We're married, legally speaking. Surely we can share a room, don't worry I won't cross to your side of the bed or take any advantage ."
Ashley crossed her arms, trying not to smirk. "You make it sound far too… easy."
"It is easy," he replied. "We're civilized adults. No need to make it complicated."
She glared, but inwardly her heartbeat betrayed her. Every inch of her wanted to test him, push him, maybe even provoke him. But she wouldn't. She couldn't. Not tonight.
She inspected the room under the pretense of distraction. The wardrobe was stocked with impeccably tailored suits, cashmere sweaters, and perfectly pressed jackets. Drawers held designer linens and soft loungewear. She noted a small lounge area by the window, a desk, and a well stocked minibar. Everything was arranged with deliberate elegance and comfort in mind.
"So," she said finally, forcing a sharp edge to her voice, "the bed. I'm not sleeping on the floor."
" No one would be on the floor," Julian said casually, as though it required no effort. Ashley groaned inwardly. He gave a faint smile, one eyebrow rising, and Ashley felt a heat rise in her cheeks despite herself. He moved to the minibar, poured himself a glass of water, and took a slow sip, deliberately keeping his distance. Every casual gesture was magnetic, infuriating, and intoxicating.
She paced a little, running a hand through her hair, trying to steady her racing thoughts. A couple of months . That's all. You can do this. Be logical, Ashley. Control the situation.
Julian watched her quietly, his eyes calm, unreadable, yet alive with a faint amusement. "You know," he said softly, "you're far too tense. This is supposed to be your home. Relax."
Ashley bristled. "I am relaxed." She took a deep breath, He didn't move, didn't step closer. But she felt him every subtle motion, every glance, gravity pulling at her balance.
"Good," he said finally, voice low and deliberate. "Excuse me, while I go shower."
Ashley shot him a look that could have been daggers "Now? In front of me."
He nodded,chuckling . " you're impossible, we've seen each other naked and did some unspeakable things to each other. What's with the coyness?". She wanted to argue this was different while blushing, to challenge him, to say something daring, but she knew he would win this verbal sparring easily. Instead, she moved to the bed, carefully maintaining a respectable distance. The silence stretched. The scent of his bathing soap, the faint rustle of sheets, each sound heightened her awareness of him. She felt her pulse in her throat, her fingers twitching, her mind racing with frustration and anticipation.
As she lay back, later in the night after dinner , eyes to the ceiling, she couldn't sleep her heart beat was so loud like a drum in her ears. She could only hope he couldn't hear her. Julian Blackwood had a way of making even rules feel like temptation and civility feel like a challenge.
As the house settled into quiet, Ashley found her thoughts drifting dangerously toward him. Every gesture, every glance from earlier, every subtle movement seemed to echo in her mind. One night at a time, she told herself. You can handle this night.
Outside, the estate was bathed in soft moonlight, gardens glowing, fountains whispering, and somewhere in the distance, the soft hum of staff moving discreetly about. Inside, the air between them crackled, charged with anticipation and unspoken tension.
And Julian, on his side of the bed, remained impossibly calm, confident, and infuriatingly in control.