Chapter 516-He Likes His Bride In Brown

Chapter 516: 516-He Likes His Bride In Brown

Verity:

He was dressed in a shiny black silk shirt and matching pants, without a coat for once.

Something was draped over his shoulder as he entered.

He glanced at me, tilted his head slightly, and then stepped farther inside, locking the door behind him.

I hurriedly tried to chew the ridiculous amount of bread I’d stuffed into my mouth.

"It’s okay. Keep eating. Although, you do look like a chipmunk when you eat like that."

I shot him a fierce glare.

Instead of responding, Ragnar came straight toward me and bent down, bringing his face so close to the loaf of bread I was holding that I barely had time to react before he took an enormous bite out of it.

Then he straightened up, stepped back, and placed whatever he’d been carrying on the couch.

It was a dress inside a garment cover.

While he casually finished chewing his bread, I stared at the covered dress.

"What’s this?" I asked.

"Your dress for the engagement ceremony. Gigi’s driver just dropped it off outside for you, so I figured I’d bring it in myself."

He paused before adding, "I mean, I know it’s supposed to be bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, but we’re both bad omens for each other anyway, so who fucking cares?"

With a casual shrug, he dropped onto the couch and crossed one leg over the other.

"How are you? Aren’t you going to offer me some coffee, tea, or anything at all?" he asked playfully and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I’m not the type of woman who cooks or bakes," I replied irritably, taking another bite of bread.

Ragnar began cracking his knuckles, his gaze never leaving me.

There was nothing particularly threatening about the gesture, though.

It was almost as if he were studying me, quietly observing something.

"We’ll see how long it takes before you become exactly the kind of wife you claim you’ll never be."

His words sounded almost like a threat, though the playful edge in his voice suggested he was teasing me.

Still, if he thought he could make me cook, clean, or do anything else for him, he was so fucking wrong.

"Your engagement is tomorrow," I reminded him as I slowly began lowering myself onto the couch.

"No, no, no. Don’t do that."

He pointed a finger at me, motioning for me to stand back up.

responded by dropping onto the couch even harder, muttering a disgruntled grunt at him for having the audacity to control even my smallest movements.

"Don’t act so innocent. I’m not telling you to get up just to annoy you. I don’t want you wasting time sitting around when you should be getting ready," he explained calmly.

"Go on, put on something nice. Do your makeup too. I want you all dressed up and looking your best."

As he continued giving me instructions, I tilted my head from one side to the other, trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with him.

What was he even talking about?

"We’re getting married today, remember?"

The moment those words left his mouth, the creases on my forehead disappeared as realization finally dawned on me.

Oh.

So that was what he was doing.

"Why? Weren’t you the one who said we needed to get married before my engagement to Gigi so I could announce our marriage at her ceremony? Have you forgotten already?"

His lips slowly curled into a smile that looked almost mocking.

"Come on, chop-chop. Get ready. We’re getting married today, honey."

With that, he closed his eyes and began casually bouncing one leg, looking entirely too comfortable as he sprawled across my couch like he owned the damn place.

I mean, I was the one who had said it in the first place, so there was no point complaining now.

This had to happen. It was part of the deal, after all.

There was no use resisting or creating unnecessary drama.

Besides, this was exactly what I wanted.

So I walked into my room and headed straight for the closet, scanning my dresses for something beautiful.

To be honest, I had plenty to choose from.

What caught me off guard was when Ragnar suddenly appeared behind me, so close that my back brushed against his chest.

Reaching past me, he pulled out a beautiful dress in a bright, shimmery shade of brown.

It had net sleeves, elegant frills, and a soft, subtle neckline adorned with brown diamantes that would sparkle under the light.

He held it up in front of me.

I didn’t step away, and neither did he.

Then, from behind, he lowered his lips close to my ear.

"Brown suits you a lot," he murmured in that deep, husky voice of his.

And, honestly, my heart nearly gave out.

His scent was so strong, so intoxicating, that it went straight to my head.

Of course, I wasn’t about to admit any of that to his face.

He was already cocky enough and knew exactly how to get under my skin within seconds.

If I ever told him that, his ego would become completely unbearable.

"Move back. I need to get to the bathroom," I whispered without turning around.

But even my voice had grown unusually soft.

"Then push me away. Who’s stopping you?" he murmured, his minty breath brushing against my ear.

Another shudder ran through my body at his words.

"I’ll push you," I warned him, although my voice and body language were completely betraying my threat.

He let out a quiet chuckle before doing what he always did, catching me completely off guard with his actions.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips against my ear, and I felt the soft warmth of his mouth as he planted a loud, lingering kiss there.

He even placed one hand against my opposite cheek, holding my face steady so the pressure of his kiss wouldn’t turn my head away from him.

Only after giving me a deep, deliberate smooch did he finally pull back.

"Go get ready."

With that, he rested his hand gently on my lower back.

A few of his fingers brushed against my ass before he gave it a soft, reassuring squeeze and finally stepped away.

Honestly, I was completely breathless by that point, but thankfully, he had finally stepped away.

Sometimes, I couldn’t understand what kind of games he was playing with me.

I knew for a fact that he was only doing all of this to save his brothers from my revenge.

So why was he being so gentle, affectionate, and romantic with me?

Or perhaps he was playing a game of his own.

Still lost in those thoughts, I reached the bathroom door and turned to glance at him.

He was standing beside the window with his hands tucked into his pants pockets, something I’d noticed him doing quite frequently these days.

I quickly turned away and hurried into the bathroom.