Chapter 11 - Charade

An hour or so later, Anastasia heard the bedroom door open and observed with hooded eyes as Mr Donovan entered the bedroom and then headed towards the washroom.

She was silent as she listened to the soft pitter-patter of the shower and pointedly didn't try to picture him taking a shower as girls her age were prone to do.

It was ludicrous how girls always imagined unreal notions of a hot guy showering.

Eventually, the sound of dripping water tapered off and she watched as he came out of the washroom - dressed only in a pair of pyjama bottoms.

Despite her thoughts, she couldn't help but take a look at the man.

She found her eyes drawn to the man's torso, as he rummaged inside through his wardrobe for a top to pull on.

She realised that this meant that he usually slept topless and was going through the motions of wearing a top on her behalf.

She wasn't certain what she had expected but she saw that the man in question was lithe but muscled.

He had a strong athletic body and it indicated that he lived a far active life than his duties to the company should have allowed.

However, she was even more stunned to see a flash of colour from his shoulder blades to halfway across his back.

Squinting her eyes, she saw that it was a tattoo of a flying bird - she guessed a hawk or an eagle, the tattoo was inked in black and white with red coloured eyes and wings spread across the two shoulder blades - as if in flight.

A tattoo like that went against everything their social circle preached about.

Did his family know that his back was inked in swaths of colours?

She also saw scars that seemed to litter his body, scars from wounds and sharp objects.

Suddenly the view was obstructed as Donovan pulled on a thin black vest.

Anastasia ignored the fact that she had just been ogling his body and turned her back towards him.

A moment later, she heard his footfalls as he came to his side of the bed and carefully climbed into it.

She felt the matters dip at his weight.

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At that moment, the reality of two strangers marrying each other without having a single full-fledged conversation hit her hard.

She laughed at the absurdity and heard him ask, "What's so funny?"

Trying to control her oncoming hysteria, she replied without turning back, "Doesn't it strike you as funny? This marriage and everything. I didn't even get to cut a wedding cake, forget about eating it."

"You can still laugh in such a situation?" he asked and Anastasia was perplexed to hear a note of sadness in his voice.

She took a deep breath and replied, "Well, it's better than crying, isn't it? If I cry, it will make all this seem even more real."

"Miss Rayburn, I am not used to talking while in bed," his voice had turned sharp all of a sudden and far closer than she felt comfortable with.

"I am," she answered without thinking and that opened another avenue for him to mock her.

"Oh! It seems Miss Rayburn has a lot of worldly experience and expertise in bed?"

She heard a faint sound that suspiciously sounded like a guffaw.

She felt her face heating up in embarrassment once again and turned over to reply him in anger, "That is not what I meant! When I stayed at the university's dormitory, I had a friend's bed right next to mine and we usually talked at night."

However, she was completely unprepared to see him lying down on his side facing her, with his head raised on his arm.

She saw amusement dancing in his eyes and knew that he had deliberately baited her to see her reaction to his uncouth words.

Sighing to herself, she lied down on her back.

When she thought that the conversation was over, he spoke in a deceptively soft voice, "This is as real as it can be. The charade that we have become a part of, you have to try your best that nobody suspects it to be for any other purpose except that we fell in love. From what I have seen, I worry about your power of intelligence, so you should worry more about that than whether to cry or laugh."

She glared at him in furry and asked, "What do you mean? Are you trying to say that I have nothing except air between my ears?"

She felt indignant at his words and shouted, "Are you actually this hateful, in general, or is this your wedding speech?"

"Imbecile" he shouted back at her.

"I hate you!"

"Oh! Marvellous! My newly married wife hates me, but you forget, Miss Rayburn, feelings don't matter in our case, do they? Moreover, you signed the papers, so don't come crying to me."

Anastasia choked off the scream of rage that wanted to burst out of her at those words and once again turned her back towards him, "Shut up. You don't need to be so blunt with your words."

"I myself am not that inclined to speak to you, " he growled back.

From the rustling of the bedsheets, it was clear that he had also turned his face away from her.

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Anastasia wondered if the prior conversation could be called the first marital fight between them.