Chapter 1 - the honeymoon is over

"C'mooon baby..."

Hands clasped together in supplication, Katrina "Katie" Rhodes bent her knees low, looking up at her young husband with the widest puppy-dog expression she could manage.

It wasn't a particularly good one. Possessed of a lean, beautiful face, with a small pursed mouth, firm cheekbones and languid green eyes beneath slightly arched brows, Katie was far more sultry than imploring: far more cat than dog.

"Pleeease?" she pouted, persevering.

But it was no use. The handsome, healthily tanned face she addressed remained unreadable. Deep, sleepy brown eyes stared absently out of the window over her shoulder and the strong chin remained fixed in a grave symmetrical frown.

Katie gulped. Usually a bit of semi-flirtatious grovelling was enough to snap her man out of his bad moods. She must've really done it this time!

After a few moments, which seemed to Katie like several geologial eras of silence, her husband's pupils inclined a few milimeters downwards.

Ryan Rhodes, investment banker extraordinaire, allowed a disappointed sigh to emerge from his lips.

"I dunno hun," the words came slowly, like those of a politician weighing some momentous matter of state. "I mean... I *want* to forgive you. It's just..."

The last syllable trailed off, Ryan's conflicted gaze returning to the distance.

"Oh sweetie, pleease!" Katie interjected, sensing a glint of hope. Bending deep to her knees, she brought her hands together in a steeple. "I'm just...I'm really sorry -" where Ryan's words had been long and portentous, hers spluttered forth in hurridly succession - "It didn't mean anything! You know you're my perfect man!"

Katie mentally kicked herself, realising her mistake. But it was too late. Tilting her head she looked up nervously into those stunning dark brown eyes. Sure enough, that glimmer of hope had gone, replaced with a frown of stone.

Finding no hint of forgiveness, she turned her eyes to the floor, adding, feebly: "I'll...I'll do anything."

Gaze still fixed on the hazy mid-morning horizon beyond the bedroom window, Ryan maintained his distant, troubled expression, occasionally squinting his eyes uncomfortably. Indeed, he kept up this flickering grimace for so long that Katie was starting to think she'd oversyruped her husband's breakfast pancakes, and that he was suffering from some sort of late-onset heartburn.

But behind all this cool outward composure, Ryan's heart was thudding rapidly with an excitement he only usually felt upon spotting a big pile of tastily underpriced shares amidst an otherwise unappetising market. "Rapacious Ryan" (as he was known to his buddies on trading floor) had a nose and a knack for ruthlessly snapping up any scrumptious opportunity that came within range before his fellow brokers even noticed it was there.

And sure enough, where others would have heard only a long and slightly pathetic profusion of apologies from his wife, Ryan honed in on one word. A word which dangled, swirling with delicious possibility.

After what seemed like another aeon, he glanced down.

"Anything?" he said casually.

As Katie nodded, Ryan drew a deep thoughtful breath. No doubt he looked like he was weighing up the matter, but really he was weighing up his wife. Damn she looked hot this morning! There was something extra sexy about her submissiveness, bending towards him, her auburn hair tied back into a ponytail, in a state of stylish messiness, the way that tight sky-blue sleeveless top clung to her curvy boobs and narrow waist, and that temptingly tiny pair of bright white sports shorts.

Most likely she'd invided Rhonda round for a spot of morning tennis on their new garden court. And with those smooth lean thighs and sexy curves on show, he was within inches of grabbing her right then and there, forgiving everything.

But no. Rapacious Ryan he might be; but he knew how to make long-term investments too. There was more - far more - to be gained by stretching this one out a bit.

"I guess I could give it some thought," he said, after another few moments of pensive silence. Then he frowned, as if something was bothering him. "It's just - you know..." he trailed off in his trademark, mysterious way.

"Yes dear?" Katie shuffled forward, still bending her knees slightly, eager to snatch up any chance that might be dispensed.

Her husband looked down with a gentle sigh, one hand stroking his firm chin; after a few seconds of silence, the other drifted dreamily across the substantial swell of his pyjama covered stomach.

"I just... I find it so hard to think straight on an empty stomach, you know?"

Now it was now Katie's turn to frown. Sure, she knew Ryan could be a terrible crank when hungry. But...

"Empty?" she said, failing to suppress a note of surprise. "But sweetheart, you just had those Krispy Kremes," she indicated the open box on the floor, empty but for damp sugar-stained circles where the doughnuts had been. "And breakfast was only a couple hours ago. You can't-"

She halted, catching the disparagingly blank stare of her husband.

Her green eyes widened, and realisation dawned like sunlight on a frosty morning.

"Ohhhhh. Empty. Yes. I see. Well I guess it has been a few mi- uh, a while since you ate darling." Katie stood upright and brushed off her knees as Ryan rolled his eyes at her stupidity. "I'll uh... I'll see what I can rustle up, okay?" She turned and headed quickly for the bedroom door.

"Katrina."

Ryan's pretty wife winced. Halting with one hand on the doorframe, she swivelled to smile nervously at her husband. It was always a bad sign when he used her full name.

"Yes darling?"

Plonking his butt down on the $5000 matress of their marital bed, Ryan swung his legs up and propped his head against a plump embroidered pillow.

"Make it snappy, okay?" he said casually, linking his hands behind his head. "I get awful cranky when I'm hungry." His relaxed expression morphed into a meaningful glare.

"Wouldn't want that to affect my decision, would we?"

Returning a hurried nod, Katie scurried off to the stairs.

******

After watching his wife's perky little ass jiggle off in those tiny shorts, Ryan waited for the sound of her petite feet pattering hurridly down the stairs.

Then he rubbed his hands together and chortled excitedly.

Oh boy, this was gonna be great! Despite the stern persona, he'd decided almost straight away that he was going to forgive Katie. What else could he do? With those gorgeous green eyes and model looks, not to mention her languid sexiness and improving cooking skills, she was practically the perfect wife.

But Ryan was a businessman: a seasoned boardroom shark at only thirty two years old, a ruthless share dealer who knew the formula for success.

It went like this: grab every opportunity tight, and wring it for all you're worth, until every last drop of advantage has been squeeezed out. Then wring it again just to be sure.

And this was an opportunity he did not intend to let slip. Oh no. He'd make damn sure his wife earned his forgiveness. And rightly so, after what she'd done! He was man of the household, wasn't he? It was high time she learned her place.

I mean, the nerve of her, criticising *his* weight!

Ryan ran a thoughtful hand over the dome of his gut. Sure he'd put on a pound or two lately. So freakin what? Unlike Katie, who volunteered part time at the local womens' club, he put in a full, gruelling 9 to 5, Monday to Friday. His job was stressful dammit! He worked hard to keep the cash flowing, paying for the big house and cars, that new tennis court she pleaded for. Wasn't he allowed to ease off after work? Wasn't he entitled to a little respect in his own damn home?! It was only a few pounds, dammit! Anyway, they were only just back from their summer vacation cruise. Ryan licked his lips at the memory. A luxury suite and limitless gourmet room service? Who wouldn't gain a little weight from that! It would be criminal not to take advantage - the trip had cost him a damn fortune! Now that he tought about it, it stood to reason that Katie must have put on a few herself. Sure, he couldn't actually recall seeing her eat much while they were there, or noticed any difference in her physique, though she had drunk quite a lot of wine - expensive wine that he'd paid for. It just stood to reason - she must've softened a bit. Which gave her even less right to criticise him!

Ryan had started to get agitated by his reflections, but now he stroked his firm chin slowly. Perhaps... perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone here? If he worked his wife that bit harder to earn his forgiveness, she might sweat a few pounds away in the process - firm up a little. Even if she hadn't put on weight - and he didn't see how she couldn't have - she could use some more muscle tone.

Smiling to himself at this sudden stroke of genius, Ryan Rhodes picked up the remote and flicked on the TV. "Oh yes," he thought. It's that kind of creative thinking that earns me the big bucks. He'd clearly been too soft on his new wife - and she'd become soft as a result. Soft and cocky. Well, the honeymoon was over now. He was going to assert himself. She'd rue the day she promised to do "anything".