Anastasia followed Mr Donovan into his place of residence.
She let herself be led inside and a feeling of numbness settled over her.
He told the password to enter the house and also cautioned her not to let others know of it.
The door led into a lavishly decorated living room; an oversized plush dark black leather sofa and two matching chairs were positioned in front of an ornate fireplace; a mahogany table and chair stood in an alcove underneath a large oval-shaped window and tall, imposing bookcases filled to the brim lined the walls.
Though the place looked richly decorated, it lacked human touch and warmth. The entire room gave off a sense of someone accustomed to living by themselves.
There was a staircase which she guessed lead the rooms upstairs.
Mr Donovan she noticed had taken off and thrown his suit on one of the chairs.
The man walked towards a side cabinet and poured himself a tumbler full of golden yellow liquid - some kind of alcohol from the looks of it and downed it in one gulp.
She also noticed that the luggage she had sent ahead of her was stacked in a corner of the living room.
Mr Donovan poured himself another drink and Anastasia worried that the man was planning on getting himself drunk.
She wasn't certain she could deal with a drunk man.
"Excuse me, Mr Donovan?" she tried to gently steer him away from drinking and passing out on the floor.
He stiffened at her call but didn't turn around to face her.
"Where is the kitchen?" She knew it was a stupid question but she truly didn't know what else to say.
"The kitchen is through the door on the right, not that I use it much, but it's there nonetheless; the basement has my own gym etc, under no circumstances are you to enter without knocking and really I'd prefer it if you didn't enter at all. Upstairs the first room is my study and I have converted another room for your use at your discretion but it is more of a smaller study or tear room so you can use that to entertain your guests. The other door leads to the bedroom, off from which is the bathroom."
"Excuse me, did you just say 'the bedroom', as in the only bedroom?" she questioned, trying not to sound as panicked as she felt.
"Yes." His response was short and concise
"But I don't want to. I don't know you and frankly, I am not attracted to you."
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How astonishing! Alexander thought, the words sarcastic even in his own mind, but all he said out loud was the more neutral, "I gathered."
He turned around and pinned the girl with a glare.
Really, how blunt could she be?
Did she really have to verbalise the fact that she wasn't attracted to her newly married husband on their first night together?
Her young age and sheltered upbringing were apparent from her words.
Was she really that lacking in social niceties?
He gathered his wandering thoughts and replied, "The bed is big enough for both of us."
Anastasia paled at those words and sputtered, "You...you expect me to sleep with you?"
Alexander felt his anger returning in full force at her continued rebuttals.
"Miss Rayburn, I can assure you that your virtue is quite safe with me."
He took vindictive pleasure as he watched her face turning red in embarrassment and threw her words back at her in a mocking tone, "I do hope Miss Rayburn would extend me the same courtesy."
"You...What are you trying to say? You think I would...I would..." Her eyes burned in fierce anger at his provocation and he almost smiled to see her metaphorical claws rising in indignation.
"Well, I don't know you, so I don't know what you will do once the lights are turned off, do I?"
She glared at him with reddened eyes and mimicked his voice, "Yes, your virtue is safe with me around, you pansy," and ran upstairs to the bedroom.
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Anastasia ran up the stairs and closed the bedroom door with a loud bang!
She hated that smug bastard downstairs.
Hated him for all she was worth.
How could he say that she would pounce on him like some harlot?
She wanted to go downstairs and pull his head full of hair out and see if he still dared to question her in such a manner.
She could clearly see that this marriage wasn't going to work.
Trying to get her emotions back in control, she stripped out of her clothes and enjoyed a hot, relaxing bath.
Afterwards, she changed into her pyjamas and then cautiously came out of the washroom.
Thankfully, there was no sign of that devil in the room and she heaved a sigh of relief.
She started at the enormous bed in the centre of the room.
Its framework was made of rosewood and the mattress looked soft and fluffy with black bed linens and grey pillow covers.
The bed was big enough for two, certainly.
However, the mere thought of sleeping with a stranger on the same bed sent shivers through her.
Damn it!
What had she gotten herself into?
In the dim lights of the room, the wedding ring glinted on her finger, as if reminding her of her current situation.
She reluctantly walked over to the bed and slid under the blankets, trying to stay as far away from the other side as possible, without falling off the edge herself.
Sometime later, she detected a faint smell of woods and leather on the sheets.
She felt the heat rising in her cheeks when she realised that the bed must smell like the man downstairs.
Unable to calm her churning thoughts, she lay on the bed wide awake.