Page 33 of Carnal Wagers

“See, ma belle?” I told Maeve. “Erel will take Tessa back to France, meet back with me in California, then we’ll come right back to Boston. Meaning you two will have plenty of time for date nights.”

“What? For an extra three days? A week at most? Your trips here are never long.”

“This one will be…a little extended. I’ve got one hundred eighty days starting today to get divorced, and I’m going to make the best of it.” My B-1 business visa only allowed for a six-month stay in the States, since there was no way husband dearest was going to petition for my residency.

“What the hell are you talking about? What happened to ambushing him into signing the papers?”

“Plans change.”

“What?” Maeve shrieked.

“My same question,” Erel unhelpfully added, accent heavy, his eye roll the cherry on top.

“What do you mean plans change?” my best friend nearly growled.

“It was never going to work. Not with someone like Cillian O’Leary. I only needed one minute with him to figure that out. The guy is stubborn and hardheaded. He’s decided he needs to stay married, which means I need to convince him otherwise.”

“Money,” Erel guessed. “Always the biggest motivator.”

“Except he refused my offer to pay him off.”

“Then pride,” Erel said unhelpfully. I already guessed that much. “He still needs the funds. You want to divorce that bad? Find out why, buy the debt, and use that as leverage.”

Tessa squeezed my shoulder. “Adrien will help.”

“But where’s the fun in that for me?”

Where was the retribution for abandoning his wife for seven years? For not caring what became of her? For refusing to break this contract years ago when my brother, as head of our mafia family, agreed I didn’t need to stay married? For tanking my annulment request? For becoming one more person who made me feel small, while everyone around me found the love of their lives, someone they relied on, someone who adored them despite their faults and supported them in everything they did, when I had no one?

No, I didn’t want to make it that easy. Not anymore. I wanted to have some fun first.

“So what exactly is your plan now?” Maeve asked.

“I’m going to seduce him. I’m going to get my freak on with husband dearest—that’s how you say it, yes? Strange turn of phrase, you know that.”

“What?” Maeve exclaimed across the line.

Erel’s wide-eyed look of horror had me giggling.

“Why, you ask?”

“I did not,” he stated through gritted teeth.

“We didn’t,” Tessa affirmed.

“Ah, ah, ah.” I shook my finger at them. “You want to. You know you do.”

“I do.” I was surprised at how affronted Maeve sounded across the line.

Erel groaned a sigh. “Et merde, pourquoi?” Fuck it, why?

I grinned wide. “Because I want something out of this marriage before I divorce the shithead. He’s gotten nearly thirteen million out of my family so far, and he’s going to pay it back in orgasms.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, practically hyperventilating.

“Al, this is dangerous,” Maeve said softly.

“And I deal with his type regularly. There’s a reason I married his delectable tush, and it wasn’t to get ignored. My family didn’t get anything out of the deal. Thirteen orgasms isn’t much to ask.” I tapped a manicured nail against my chin. “Maybe I should times that by the number of years we’ve been married. Seven years I’ve been in limbo. Seven! I’m owed those orgasms. All ninety-one of them. That should give me enough time to convince him to sign the papers.”