She put her cup of tea down and said, "I want the freedom to move around the estate as I want. I won't go see Marco, but I don't want to feel like your prisoner."

Sean's face relaxed, "That's it?"

​​

"That's it," she said.

"Done," he said.

"Really?" she asked.

He smiled, "Yes, really."

"Well, thank you," she said. "It's been a long day, though. If you don't mind, I'd like to go lie down now."

His lip twitched into a smile, "You have free range."

She nodded and stood up. Once she was out of the dining room, she darted up the stairs and crept down the hall. She passed her bedroom door and continued to the room at the end—Sean's room. She was surprised to find that the door stood open.

"Hello," she whispered, wondering if a maid was inside.

No one replied, so she crept into the room and pulled the door shut behind her. The room was cold and indifferent—it was hard to imagine anyone sleeping or relaxing or living in it. Gray wallpaper covered the walls, and heavy gray curtains hung in front of the tall windows. The sofa and carpet were also gray, but the bed was surprising. A burgundy bedspread covered the king-sized bed, and matching pillows were piled against the headboard.

She shook her head at the odd choice and looked around the room. For such a large space, there was little furniture—certainly nowhere for him to have hidden her suitcase. She crept across the dim room to the attached closet. If he had her suitcase, it would be there.

She flicked the light switch on and looked around the large room. Hundreds of black and navy suits hung from the walls, and crisply ironed shirts hung behind them. She scanned the room but couldn't see any sign of her black case.

"What are you looking for?" Sean's voice asked.

She jumped and turned—he was standing right behind her. He must have gotten up right after she left and followed her to his room.

"Have you seen my suitcase?" she asked.

He stepped past her and reached behind the closet door, pulling out a large black roller bag. "Do you mean this?" he asked.

"That's the one," she said brightly. "Thanks."

"I am curious," he said. "Why are you snooping around for your suitcase when you have a full closet of clothing waiting for you?"

"You've thought of everything," she said. "But I wanted my things back."

"Is that it?" he asked. "Perhaps you have something hidden in the suitcase you don't want me to know about? Maybe something Marco gave you?"

She looked at the bag and sighed, "I don't have anything like that, and even if I did, I'd burn it the first chance I got."

"You'd burn it?" Sean asked disbelief etched on his face.

"I would," she said. "He's a selfish pig, and I don't have any feelings for him. You heard what he said to me. Do you really think I'm stupid enough to treasure memories of such a man? I hate him, okay? I hate him."

"Hate and love are two sides of the same coin," Sean said, his voice cold.

She sighed and raised her hands to him, "Not always. The hatred I feel for him has nothing to do with my foolish infatuation and everything to do with who he is as a person. He's weak and untrustworthy and scheming and foolish, but he's a smooth talker and an opportunist, just like Madison and my uncle. If I could go back in time, I'd never have spoken a word to him, but it's too late for that. All I can do now is apologize and try to move forward."

"Go on then," Sean said, his voice imperious and distant. "Apologize."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I ran away on our wedding day, and I'm sorry I betrayed your confidence."

"Do you mean it?" he asked.

"I do," she said.

He stared at her as if trying to see past her skin and into her mind, and she felt her cheeks begin to flush. She was embarrassed, but she was also angry. How many times would he make her swallow her pride and apologize? When would it finally be enough?

"Listen," she said. "If you don't believe me, you can look through my suitcase. I have nothing to hide—well, besides some embarrassing fashion choices."

Sean glanced down at the suitcase and shook his head, "That won't be necessary. You can take it to the other room. I'll have someone bring up some more hangers."

"Thank you," she said.

She grabbed the suitcase by the handle and tugged it after her. The wheels caught in the thick carpet, and she had to use her body weight to move the large bag. Slowly, she dragged it out of the closet and across Sean's room. As she moved, she felt his eyes boring into her back.

Back in her room, she pushed the suitcase flat onto the ground and unzipped it. The clothing inside was neatly folded, but she couldn't shake the feeling that someone had dug around inside. It was too neat—her old self wouldn't have been so careful. Whoever had looked through her things hadn't noticed what a mess they were before.

She sighed and began unpacking. Almost all of the clothes were black and tight or ripped. She grabbed her jewelry bag and unzipped it, staring at the chunky silver and gold pieces inside. She looked at her old clothes with a mixture of amusement and anger.

Madison had encouraged her to buy most of the pieces. She said it was cool and sexy and rebellious, but as Catherine looked at the clothing, the only word that came to mind was "trashy."

She emptied the suitcase and stared at the pile of clothing and shoes. She thought about putting it away in the closet, but she knew she'd never wear it. She heaped it all back into the suitcase and then pushed the bag into a corner of the closet.

She took a shower and changed into a matched set of cotton pajamas. Barefoot, she padded across the bedroom and climbed into bed. She was surprised and relieved to see that she was alone—maybe Sean would let her sleep by herself. As soon as she'd had the thought, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," she said.

Sean opened the door but stood frozen in the frame, "What are you doing?"

"Going to bed," she said. "I'm tired."

"In here?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah," she said.

"Tell me," he said. "Do you think it's normal for newlyweds to sleep in separate rooms?"

She sighed, "No, I don't think it's normal, but this isn't exactly a normal situation, is it?"

He stared at her from the door and crossed the room. He sat at the side of the bed and tugged off his shoes and then his socks. He stood and began unbuckling his belt, and she froze.

"I'm still on my period," she whispered.

His face darkened, but he said, "I remember. Just close your eyes and go to sleep."

She bit her lip and closed her eyes before he dropped his pants and took off his shirt. Moments later, the sheets lifted, and he slid into bed next to her. He pulled her to him, cradling her body with his. His skin was warm, but she couldn't relax.

"You're stiff as a board," he whispered.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. His arms enveloped her, and she smelled the scent of his soap and the musky smell of his aftershave. Slowly, she became comfortable, and her eyes drifted shut.

She opened her eyes in the morning and found her face inches from his. His piercing blue eyes were gentle as they looked at her.

"Good morning," he whispered.

"Good morning," she replied.

Lazily, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from across her face. He tucked it behind her ear, caressing the top of her ear with his fingertip. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her core, and she scooted away from him, scared by her body's response.

Without another word, she hopped out of bed, and half jogged to the bathroom. She paused at the sink, a single cup held two toothbrushes: a pink one and a blue one.

"The pink one is yours, of course," Sean said from the doorway.

She looked at his and hers toothbrushes and then at Sean, "It's a bit of a cliché, don't you think?"

He shrugged and turned away, leaving her to brush her teeth and wash her face in privacy. When she emerged from the bathroom, he was putting the cufflinks onto his shirt sleeves. The morning sun glowed in his hair and cast his face in a golden light. Another jolt of desire ran through her, and she hurried to the closet to get dressed.