The Devious Husband: Sierra and Xavier’s Story (The Windsors)

Chapter 34



I sigh as I wrap up my work, not particularly looking forward to being alone. Not even our beautiful library can entice me to go home when I know I’ll just spend all evening wondering where Xavier is. He’s barely been home since that time he came back with blood on his clothes, and I know he’s avoiding me, but I don’t know what to do about it.

Our roles seem to have been reversed, and I’m learning the hard way that karma is a bitch. I should’ve appreciated every moment of him being sweet and kind, because now that things have changed, I keep wishing we could go back to a time when he’d lay in bed half-naked, waiting for me as he worked on his laptop. He felt like my husband then, and now we’re even less than the rivals we used to be — we’re strangers that share a home. I hate it, but he won’t give me a chance to so much as speak to him. I’ve tried and failed to wait up for him countless times, but he’s never home before three in the morning, and he’s gone by six.

My heart skips a beat when my phone buzzes, only for disappointment to wash over me when I realize it isn’t Xavier. I instantly beat myself up over my expectations — if not for the way his side of the bed looks in the mornings, I wouldn’t even know if he came home at all, so why would he suddenly be texting me?

Graham: wanna grab dinner after tomorrow’s meeting? I found a new restaurant I want to try

I bite down on my lip as I think back to the way I falsely insinuated that something was going on between Graham and me. How would Xavier respond if I went out for dinner with Graham? Would he care at all? Would he stop avoiding me?

I sigh as I grab my purse and head out, my thoughts a mess on the drive home. Several times, I’ve come close to calling my family’s head of security, Silas Sinclair, to ask if he’d find Xavier for me. It’s a thought I haven’t entirely given up on, but I’m trying my best to be patient. Maybe it’s silly, but I’d like to believe that I know him well, and I’m certain that whatever happened just caused him to need some space. I can give him that, so long as he comes back home to me eventually.

I’m restless as I walk into the house, my longing for him beginning to become overwhelming. “Damn you to hell and back, Xavier,” I mutter, only to pause in the doorway to his bedroom, a soft gasp escaping my lips when I find him sitting in bed, the sheets bunched around his waist and his laptop on his lap.

He looks up and smiles, and my heart goes wild. “Kitten,” he drawls.

“You’re home,” I murmur, the butterflies in my stomach going wild.

He drops his head back against the headboard, looking up at me from lowered lashes, and my heart skips a beat as I take in his wide chest and strong arms. How many times have I imagined him sitting in bed just like that, only to find our bedroom empty? “I’m home,” he repeats, his words sounding like a quiet promise that I hope he’ll keep.

Xavier glances back at his laptop, and I stare at him for a few moments before I snap out of it and rush into the bathroom. I have so many questions, but I know I can’t ask them, not without pushing him away all over again. Maybe I’m crazy, but I know he’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it, and it’s not like I hadn’t heard the rumors about his family. Throughout the years, I noticed that people who threaten the Kingston family simply disappear, and I’m not so naïve to believe that every instance of that was mere coincidence. He thinks I don’t know, but I’m well aware of who I married.

I take my time in the shower, trying my best not to let my thoughts spiral. I’m terrified of doing or saying something that’ll make him shut me out. He might not have said the words, but I know he doesn’t want to talk about why he came home with blood on his clothes. I suspect it’s at least part of the reason he’s stayed away, and I don’t want to risk saying anything that’ll make him disappear again.

I clutch my towel as I walk into Xavier’s dressing room, my eyes zeroing in on the nightgowns Raven sent me. Before I can overthink it, I slip into the red one. I regret it almost immediately — it’s far too revealing. It’s entirely made from lace and silk, and it clings to the contours of my body. Not to mention, the lace that covers my breasts doesn’t actually cover all that much. Instead of lamenting on them, I push my insecurities aside and take a deep breath.

I try my hardest to act casual as I walk back into Xavier’s bedroom and run a hand through my hair. My husband looks up, his gaze heated and his cheekbones a little flushed. He swallows hard, his breathing uneven. God, I’ve missed that. I’ve missed the way he looks at me, and everything we’d only just begun to give in to.

“What’s wrong?” I ask innocently as I place my knee on my side of the bed, relief surging through me when I recognize the desire in his eyes. I don’t know how else to reassure him, to quietly tell him that nothing changed for me.

Xavier’s eyes run over my body hungrily, and I try my best to calm my racing heart. “Nothing,” he says, his tone sounding calmer now. His eyes move to mine, and he does something I absolutely hate — he smiles politely. It drives me completely crazy, because I know what his real smiles look like, and this isn’t it.

He looks back at his laptop, and my heart sinks as a vague sense of rejection and humiliation washes over me. He’s home, but he’s still pushing me away — it’s just a bit more subtle now.

I bite down on my lip as I sit next to him and stare at the wall, unable to comprehend why my heart is aching so much. I’d foolishly thought that we’d both just pretend nothing happened, and we’d go back to the way we used to be once he came home, like we so often did whenever we took our feud too far. “I’m having dinner with Graham tomorrow after our meeting with him,” I lie, something dark unfurling deep in my stomach.

Xavier slams his laptop closed and puts it aside before turning to me. “What did you just say?” he asks, his tone carrying a hint of danger.

“I’m having—” He pulls me on top of him in one smooth move, his hands on my waist as he makes me straddle him. I instantly blush fiercely at the feel of his erection between my legs, his boxer shorts doing absolutely nothing to hide it.

“Need I remind you that you’re married?” he asks, his voice strained. “Or that you vowed to be faithful?”

I place my hands on his shoulders, our eyes locking. “Need I remind you that this isn’t a real marriage? If it were, you’d have been home with me every night for the last two weeks, instead of god knows where.”

His hands slide from my waist to my ass, and he squeezes gently. “Oh, it’s very real,” he says, his voice soft. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret, and trust me, if you go on a date with another man, you’ll regret it.”

I rise to my knees, not realizing that it just puts my boobs at eye level for him. He clenches his jaws and slips his hands underneath my dress, his hands moving to my waist. “Don’t be so foolish as to forget who I am, Xavier. No one gets away with threatening a Windsor. Not even you.”

He rolls us over, and I fall back onto the bed, his body on top of mine. “Perhaps so, but you’re no longer a Windsor, Sierra Kingston.”


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