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   Chapter 10 Death by Tequila

My Scythe-Wielding Husband By JMFelic Characters: 13604

Updated: 2019-07-14 00:50


The stewardess left the bedroom first while Solene followed. The whole time she traipsed the hallway to the interior of the plane, her pulse double worked. She felt as if her heart was about to leap out of her chest. She felt as if her insides had somersaulted sixty-nine times or possibly even more. Her breathing picked up and all her senses grew hyper-aware.

She was about to see her soon-to-be-husband finally and she was going to give him a piece of her mind, planning to ditch hi's or hello's and other unnecessary pleasantries. After all, he didn't seem to care about that before the plane took off, or what's more, for the whole of her fifteen years of life since they were faithfully betrothed by their families.

Karma was in order and she was going to serve it in full.

However, as she got a full view of the man sitting on one of the leather seats facing her, she couldn't help herself but laugh—the I-should-have-known-this-would-happen kind of laugh. She wanted to slap herself for being too clueless, but clearly it seemed he deliberately didn't want her to know it was him.

He was busily fixing his cuffs, his hands covered with black leather gloves, as Solene stopped a few feet away. She never found such an item sexy, but she did now and it surprised her. Just like the other times she saw him, he looked well-dressed; his choice of clothes tasteful. The gloves were a perfect complement to his ensemble.

There was a wine flute half-filled with sparkling red wine on the table in front of him and a dining set prepared for two. It was clear enough to see they were both to dine together.

"Good evening Solene, " the Master's puissant voice traveled through the pressurized air of the cabin towards her ears and for a moment, she felt as though it was mocking her. He was using her given name now, not the 'Miss St. Fair' he used two days ago. Does this mean he was staking his claim on her now?

"Good evening Mr. Henri, " Solene said coolly, thinning her eyes, "or should I say, Hein? You didn't seem to mind using that name back in the library just to throw me off."

"Henri, please, " he said, his timbre flowing like honey and molten lava she wanted to hopefully ignore, but she couldn't. God help her, she just couldn't. Since first hearing it, it had unfortunately stuck in her head no matter how she wanted it gone.

"I prefer my bride to call me by my given name. It's better. And with regard to our previous engagements in the library, the supermarket and the coffee shop, let's just say...I'm gathering intel. You can forget about it."

"Gathering intel? Forget about it?" Solene parroted, a brief mocking laugh coming out from her chest. "Well, that's a simple way for you to put it."

Standing next to the cockpit door, Arlene and Mr. Reynold blanched. Solene had an idea as to why. Was she the first person to talk to their Master like this? Like that of a human whose voice wasn't dripping with adoration and brimful respect?

"I could have died in the supermarket and the coffee shop and you tell me you were gathering intel?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Huh, funny. Although..." She tossed a look on the window and considered an idea for a moment, "I certainly want to know more about those incidences. My information on hand doesn't seem to add up. I have an inkling you can enlighten me, 'Henri'."

"It doesn't matter, " he ignored her outburst and gestured to the seat across her. "Sit, please."

Solene lifted a brow and narrowed her eyes again at him. She could sense he was avoiding the subject and that irked her. But what irked her the most was his control over their conversation. She realized she'd have to play it cool if she wanted to wring some information out of him.

It took her a full minute before finally conceding. She took the seat with her chin lifted and shoulders squared, sending him a vibe that she wasn't letting the topic go.

"Arlene, kindly give my bride something to drink. Margarita perhaps, " he paused and cast a look at Solene with questioning brows and continued,

you possibly get from our marriage?"

"You of course, " he replied without reservation and this speared her heart.

She didn't peg him as a romantic person, yet here he was, telling her basically that he wanted her truly as his wife. Or was it just a ruse? A cover up for something more complex? Men like him – they just wouldn't bother with trivial things such as love and genuine marriage.

"Cut to the chase, Henri. I'm not a dumb woman, " she sternly looked at him.

The latter released a long exhale. He studied her, really studied her, and a conclusion finally came to mind. "Hmmm, I see you're not briefed enough by your family."

Solene's brows knotted. "What do you mean?"

"Excuse me, Master Henri, we will be landing soon. Seatbelts are advised and the dining wares are to be tucked in as per the captain's instructions, " Mr. Reynold interrupted nervously.

Henri glanced at the man and nodded once. "Thank you, Reynold, " he said and then turned to Solene, "I see that dinner is deferred for later. You're not famished yet right?"

"No, " she replied quickly.

His eyes roamed down the untouched drink and commented, "You haven't touched your tequila though."

With that, Solene took a swig of the liquor, not stopping until the third shot glass was empty. "There, " she announced smugly. "Arlene can take it away."

Henri hid a grin in response and signaled the stewardess to clean the table.

The whole time this was done, silence ruled over the cabin. Despite her desire to pick up their conversation and ask him what meant about his words, she decided to reroute her focus onto the night view outside the window. Such conversation could be done at a later date, preferably when the plane has landed.

Henri, on the other hand, kept his gaze on her, delighting himself with how beautiful she looked: her long platinum blonde hair looking like the silver moon, her ethereal eyes of pale blue and violet that matched her hair, her heart-shaped face, her slender neck, her shapely lips...

He only had pictures of her in his office and those were even tucked inside a folder that was placed in the lowest cabinet of his table. The first time he saw her in person was in the library. She was so engrossed with her reading that he didn't want to bother her. He chose instead to distance himself and continue to watch her. It was only then that he decided to show himself when she was about to leave the library.

His thoughts back then was exactly his thoughts now.

'This woman will be the death of me.'

And as a Lord of a clan that hails an army of grim reapers every generation and basically an expert of all things death and dying-related, that was saying something.

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