Chapter 8: Tradition

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Still lost in her thoughts of what possibly could have made a man like Dale Stuart live in a place like this, she jolted when she suddenly felt a hand snake around her. Snapping her head around, she saw him standing right beside her with his hand on her waist.

"What...are you doing?" She asked in shocked surprise as she tried to step away from him, her eyes moving from his hand leisurely resting on her waist to his face.

"Following tradition, wife."

'Tradition' What tradition was he talking about?

"A bride mustn't walk into her new home. She should be carried," he explained when he saw the confusion dancing in her eyes.

"Oh," She exclaimed inaudibly. "Is that necessary?" She asked in a careful voice. She didn't think it was necessary. She had not imagined being in his arms, and she recoiled at how awkward it would feel to be in the arms of her sister's husband.

"By all means, it's necessary. What kind of husband would I be if I can't do the basic things required of me?" He said, making Neveah look at his face.

Basic things? What basic things? She didn't want him to do anything for her, basic or not. As a matter of fact, she wanted him to keep his distance away from her, as far as possible.

Would it be stupid if she told him he wasn't expected to perform any husbandly duties for her? She would be far saner if he refrained himself from doing whatever 'basic things' he had in mind. But she already knew there were going to be certain things she couldn't stop him from doing, such as this, because asking that of him would only make him suspicious.

Tilting his head sideways, he inquired, "So shall I?" when Neveah kept staring at him silently.

Should he? Neveah didn't think she wanted him to. Being carried in his arms was something she hadn't expected to happen and not to mention so soon. Nevertheless, she lowered her head and nodded. She had to stick to the plan of deceiving this man.

Her breath hitched when she felt his grip on her waist and his other hand behind her knees, and in one swift move, he scooped her into his arms, bridal style, like she weighed nothing. He seemed strong.

Hell yes, he was strong. The firmness of his hard chest and arms attested to that as they were currently being pressed against her, and she could feel them. Suddenly the image of a half-naked man with chiselled and rippling muscles and silky skin flashed through her mind like a lightning bolt.

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God! what was that?! Neveah!!

Allowing this man to carry her was a big mistake. She should have insisted on walking! Her heart raced, even more when she realised he wasn't moving. What was he doing now? Should she look? Ask?

With her curiosity winning over her, she lifted her face to look at him, and the very second she did that, she regretted it because inches above her were those mesmerising eyes intently staring at her again! But this time, there was something different about his stare. He wasn't staring at her the way he did before. There was an uncertain emotion that lingered in his eye, an emotion that felt strange and awkward. Was it that of guilt or sadness? She couldn't tell because soon it was gone, like it hadn't been there. But why was that look of his making her heart heavy?

She watched as he looked away from her and finally made his way for the door, climbing up the stairs to the porch like he wasn't carrying a human in his arms.

The moment he arrived at the door, it was immediately opened from within like someone knew they had been coming. Standing in front of them was a fleet of house staff and a butler, standing arrayed by the side.

"Congratulations, master and madam." They chorused. Nevaeh was slightly startled by that unexpected welcome. She flashed a small smile at the army of staff before her eyes got awed by the sight before her, as Dale carefully placed her down.

Far from what she had initially thought, Neveah was shocked to see the interior of the house. It was exceedingly different from what she had seen outside.

The white marbles that covered the entirety of the floor and the extravagant chandelier hanging from the high ceiling were explicitly elegant. Her jaws dropped as her eyes took in the magnificence of the house. It was so different and beautiful that she felt she had walked into a castle.

The grandeur was nothing like she had ever seen before. It was unbelievable. The vast living space in which they were currently standing was breathtakingly beautiful.

Her eyes roamed around the place in wonder, and it widened to the extreme when she saw the grand white piano sitting beneath the white marbled spiral stairs with golden handrails. This was incredible.

The exquisiteness of this house made her understand the meaning of the proverbial adage fully, 'Never judge a book by its cover.'

This was a complete work of art. She couldn't imagine the cost of maintaining such beauty.

But all these made her wonder how just how rich this man was. Maintaining such a place was going to cost a fortune.. And once again, she couldn't help wonder if all the stories about his mysteries about him and his wealth were true.

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