A shower?

Isabelle looked towards the bathroom. It was the only private place in the house. It at least solved one of her problems. She would never have to change in his presence. She wished he did her the same courtesy and stopped undressing in front of her.

"Yes," she said, nodding. Still keeping her gaze from him, she walked towards where her suitcases were sitting. Opening one, she looked for a towel and a change of clothes.

Then, without another word to him or a glance towards his side, she hurried towards the bathroom, opened the door, and disappeared inside.

The bathroom was not as spacious as the one back home, but it had enough space for a shower, the toilet, and counter space. There was no bathtub, but that was fine. She could live without those relaxing herbal baths she had gotten used to at her family home. A small price to pay, she decided.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she cursed softly. Her face was still covered in all the makeup she had worn for the wedding. She had forgotten to bring along her makeup remover from her luggage. Placing the towel and change of clothes on the counter, she opened the door. She was one step into the room when she noticed that Jacob was now shirtless. She froze for a second, her face burning as she took in his bare torso. His abdomen muscles were well-formed, and the V-line above his waistband-

"Like what you see?"

Mortified, she looked up to replace him watching her, a lopsided smirk on his face. She stepped back quickly and closed the door behind her.

Ugh, why was she so nervous? She would have to stop being flustered so easily around him.

Moving away from the door, she decided that soap was a good enough makeup remover. Sighing, she got busy removing the pins in her hair.

When Isabelle left the bathroom, she was a lot more composed. She had spent the time in the shower berating herself for being so jumpy around him and resolving to change that. If she showed him that she was nervous, he would undoubtedly take advantage of her.

Jacob was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of water when she appeared.

She gestured towards her suitcases. "I'll unpack while you shower."

He nodded. "I've left half of the closet bare for you," he told her.

She nodded, looking towards the closet's double doors. Like everything else in the house, they would be sharing that.

She was happy to have some time to herself as he showered. But it didn't last long as he soon reappeared, looking fresh. She was just finishing unpacking her clothes and shoes.

"You didn't want to marry me, did you?" he asked as she stuffed her empty suitcase above the closet.

After stowing her suitcase away, she took a deep breath and turned to him. "Of course not. It was our family's agreement, and I'm happy to honour it."

"Really? You don't look happy about it. Not used to your new circumstances?" he continued, his eyes focusing on her face.

She turned away and headed towards the kitchen. "I'm just not used to you," she told him. Then she got busy looking for a glass and filling it with water at the sink. Wrapping her hands around the glass, she turned back around to face him.

Jacob took a seat on one of the two armchairs in the house and regarded Isabelle. Was she really just nervous, and didn't mind being married to him? Maybe if he was open about his thoughts about the entire arrangement, she could drop her act.

"I only married you because it was my mother's wish. I don't want, or even need, this marriage. So, while we are married in their eyes, I don't consider you my wife. Let's act as a normal couple in front of others, but stay clear of each other's private lives."

Isabelle nodded. "Okay."

Okay? That was all she was going to say?

"But that doesn't mean you can have other lovers," he noted, recalling what he had heard about her debauchery. "Just because we are only pretending to be a normal couple doesn't mean you can sleep around."

She looked up at him then, her smooth brow frowning. What, did she expect him to allow her to have other men beside him? It was one thing that pretending a unless asshole to put her off. But to actually allow her to have a lover when everyone thought she was his wife? No way in hell.

"Of course, if you want sex so much, I'm willing to act like a husband in that manner," he offered.

Isabelle coughed into her glass of water. "No," she said when she recovered. "No thanks. We are only a couple outside this house."

"What, you don't think I can satisfy your needs?" he asked. Women had always flocked to him. A woman of her character, who was known to have no shortage of lovers, must surely appreciate what he was offering.

"As you have mentioned," she told him, "we are only pretending to be a couple. I'll do well in that matter. Don't worry, I won't be involved in any relations with anyone as long as I'm your wife. Just don't meddle in my life."

Isabelle gobbled down her water and turned away from him as she placed the glass back. The nerve of him to talk to her as if she was a cheater when he was the one everyone knew was a womaniser. He knew nothing about her. And yet, it appeared that he had already pegged her as someone who would have sex with him when they were only pretending to be a couple. Ah! If anything, she should be the one warning him against embarrassing her by keeping up with his reckless lifestyle.

Jacob did not miss the sharpness in Isabelle's voice as she told him she would adhere to his demands. She couldn't be offended, could she? It was no secret that she slept around with many men-

He frowned. Why wasn't anything adding up? At first, he had thought that she was acting to fool him into thinking she was someone she was not. But, not only had she not complained about being warned about having lovers, but she had also refused his offer to take care of her sexual needs.

Then there was all that blushing, being flustered... And claiming to not mind being married to him. Him, the poor illegitimate son of the Garcias. She, the spoilt first-born daughter of the Cruzes who could date any wealthy bachelor worth millions.

It didn't seem that she would be so willing about the entire arrangement. If anything, she should be looking down on him, telling him that he couldn't tell her how to behave.

Was she really the eldest daughter of the Cruz family who he had received information about?

Rising from the armchair, he approached her. He touched her shoulder when he got to her so that she could face him.

She did, her eyes meeting his. "What?" she asked, sounding a little annoyed. He had really offended her, hadn't he?

"Are you really the eldest daughter of the Cruz family?" he asked, watching her face closely for her reaction.

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