My Bratty Wife
Chapter 81 - Eighty One

Chapter 81: Chapter Eighty One

The crisp night air carried a hint of autumn’s chill as Ryan stepped out into the garden, seeking solace from the confines of the room. The sprawling grounds of the manor offered a sanctuary, a place where he could escape the confines of his thoughts.

A cigar, a rare indulgence, was lit and brought to his lips. Smoking wasn’t a habit for him; it was a ritual, a moment of respite in the chaos of his life. It wasn’t about pleasure or addiction, but about the warmth it provided against the cold, a physical manifestation of the solace he sought. The first puff was always the most satisfying, the smoke filling his lungs and clearing his mind. With each inhale, the nicotine soothed his nerves, offering a temporary respite from the complexities of his life.

As he exhaled, a cloud of smoke enveloped him, obscuring his vision for a brief moment. It was in those fleeting seconds of blindness that he found clarity. He pondered his next move, his mind racing with plans for his impending investigation. But amidst the strategic thoughts, another, more personal question nagged at him: What will he call whatever he’s feeling for her at the moment. His mind wandered to Suzy, her unexpected resilience, her quiet strength.

Unlike Eleanor, who had always been compliant, Suzy was a force of nature, a woman who refused to be molded into the shape others desired. Her determination, her spirit, reminded him of his own mother, Duchess Leah. Yet, Suzy possessed a strength and independence that even Leah had lacked.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching as it dissipated into the night air. He was falling into a dangerous territory, a territory he had sworn to avoid after Eleanor’s betrayal. But the pull towards Suzy was undeniable, a force that threatened to consume him.

As he took in another puff, a twig snapping underfoot drew his attention. A figure emerged from the shadows, an intruder in the peaceful night.

The figure emerged from the shadows, revealing the face of the young woman he had seen earlier that day. It was Senna, Countess Helene’s niece, her presence in the garden at this late hour a mystery.

Ryan watched her warily, his mind racing. What was she doing out here? And why was she dressed in such a revealing manner?

Senna approached him slowly, her steps deliberate. The moonlight illuminated her figure, casting long shadows on the ground. She was wearing a short silk nightdress that clung to her curves, revealing more skin than was customary for a young woman of her station.

Senna took a step closer, her eyes locked on his. "I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see you," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Ryan, his senses on high alert, extinguished his cigar, the orange glow disappearing into the night. He watched as Senna approached, her every move calculated and deliberate. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on her, highlighting her features in a way that was both alluring and unsettling.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ryan asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Senna smiled, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Can’t a woman admire a man from afar?" she purred.

Ryan’s gaze hardened. "I’ll ask again,Senna," he replied, his voice cold. "What is the meaning of this?"

Senna’s smile widened. "Can I say," she said, her voice dripping with honey. "I’m here to do what Cassandra couldn’t do, your Grace."

She took another step closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. Ryan swatted her hands as he moved away. He could smell her perfume, a heady mix of floral and musk.

"And what could the Duchess not do but you can?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

Senna laughed, her laughter like the tinkling of bells. "To pleasure her husband" she said, her voice smooth like velvet. "if she did her job well you wouldn’t be outside in the cold smoking to keep yourself warm. I can keep you warm."

As she spoke, she began to untie the sash of her night robe, the fabric falling to the ground, revealing more of her skin. Ryan’s eyes widened in shock. He had never seen a woman so brazen, so shameless. It was a deliberate provocation, a blatant attempt to seduce him.

As she reached out to touch him again, Ryan grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. "stay away from me," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

Senna’s smile faded, replaced by a look of surprise.

Ryan turned to leave, his intention clear. "I hate revealing clothes, I prefer my woman clothed" he said, his voice cold and detached.

He continued. "Do you know what I hate the most?" he asked, his voice firm.

Senna’s eyes flashed with anger. "No" she replied, her voice rising.

Ryan ignored her, his gaze fixed on the door. "What I hate most is desperate girls on revealing clothes," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Why?"

Ryan didn’t bother to reply. He simply turned and walked away, leaving Senna alone in the garden, embarrassed and angry.

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Ryan quietly entered the room, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. Suzy was sprawled out on the bed, a picture of peaceful slumber. Her auburn curls, usually neatly tied back, were now scattered across the pillow, adding a touch of wildness to her appearance.

He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She looked so vulnerable, so different from the strong, independent woman he had come to know. In this moment, she was just a woman, tired and worn out, seeking refuge in the comfort of her sleep.

He moved closer to the bed, his gaze lingering on her face. Her features were relaxed, her expression serene. A sense of peace washed over him as he watched her sleep.

Suddenly, her lips moved, forming words that were barely audible. Ryan leaned in closer, trying to make out what she was saying. The words were jumbled and incoherent, but he managed to catch a few phrases.

"Netflix and chill... Bridgeton season three... Day off... With mom." she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle. It was a strange combination of words he haven’t heard before, binge-watching and Netflix, but it was undeniably her. She was so different from the other women he had known, so unpredictable and genuine.

He made his way to the bathroom, the need to wash away the remnants of the cigar burning strong. The cool water was refreshing, and the steam helped to clear his head. As he dried himself off, he couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation.

He pulled on his nightwear, a simple robe and trousers, and returned to the bedroom. Suzy was still asleep, sprawled out on the bed like a starfish. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable.

He moved cautiously towards the bed, careful not to disturb her sleep. He needed to create space for himself without waking her up. Gently, he nudged her, trying to move her towards the edge of the bed.

To his surprise, she simply shifted position, her arms and legs still sprawled out. It was as if she was claiming the entire bed as her own territory.

A smile crept across his face. He couldn’t deny the charm of her sleep-deprived vulnerability. There was a childlike innocence about her that was both endearing and frustrating.

With a gentle hand, he adjusted the covers, pulling them up to her shoulders, trying to create a barrier between them, giving her the personal space she needs. She murmured something unintelligible in her sleep, her eyes fluttering briefly before closing again.

He climbed into bed, careful not to disturb her. As he settled in, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. Being close to her, even in this way, was comforting. It was as if a part of him had been missing, and now it was finally complete.

As sleep began to claim him, he felt a shift in the bed. Suzy was moving, her body turning towards him. He opened his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. She was still asleep, but her proximity to him was intoxicating.

Her body snuggled into his, her leg casually draped over his. The warmth of her skin against his was a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards her, the pull that drew him closer.

He reached out and gently stroked her hair, the softness of it sending a shiver down his spine. She murmured something in her sleep, a sound that was both comforting and alluring.

With a tenderness he hadn’t known he possessed, he kissed her forehead. "Good night, Duchess," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he pulled her closer, enveloping her in his arms.

As sleep claimed him again, he held her close, the warmth of her body a soothing balm to his soul. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace, a sense of belonging.