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She sighed. ‘I thought I wasn’t academically gifted because I wasn’t as intelligent as my cousins. They all got straight As while I was a steady C—B plus if I was lucky—student. I never excelled in anything, and I certainly didn’t have the marks I needed to be a doctor or a nurse.’
He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders still tense and stiff. ‘Perhaps the school you went to wasn’t a good one. Perhaps the style of teaching didn’t suit you.’
This time it was her turn to look at him in puzzlement. ‘Or maybe I’m just not smart enough. Why is that important?’
The muscle in his jaw flicked again. ‘You’re the mother of my children and intelligence is important to me. Perhaps you are smarter than you think you are.’
‘Or maybe I’m as dumb as a post.’ The words were tinged with a bitterness she’d thought she’d long since put behind her, and she wished she hadn’t said them.
He stared at her a second, then abruptly came across the room to her, still scowling ferociously as if she’d done something to offend him. ‘You are not,’ he said with some insistence. ‘I always wondered why I wanted you so badly. The women I take as lovers are all, without exception, gifted with high intelligence. But you’re not a professor or a scientist. You teach small children. But you must be very gifted in some way in order to—’
‘Or maybe you want me to be smart because you can’t think of any other reason to want me?’ she interrupted, her temper rising. ‘Children are important. They’re the society we’ll have one day, so why are you looking down on my profession? I’m making sure that future society will be full of people who are empathetic and understanding. Who listen. Who build good relationships with others. It’s not rocket science, but it’s just as important, if not more so.’
He was silent a moment longer, then the hard lines of his face eased, as if she’d proved something to him. ‘There,’ he said softly. ‘You see? You don’t think you’re as dumb as a post at all.’
Her cheeks heated and she had to glance away to hide the strange fluttering feeling in her stomach that definitely didn’t have anything to do with her pregnancy. ‘You didn’t seem to think being a preschool teacher was so great compared to being a professor or scientist. Or a mathematical genius.’
‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘But maybe I need to change my mind.’
‘Why?’ She glanced at him. ‘Because of me?’
‘Yes.’
‘But how can you say that when you don’t know me?’
‘Perhaps I should know you.’ He kept on staring at her as if she were a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve. ‘You’re the mother of my children. Don’t you think you’re worth knowing?’
You’re not, not to a man like him. Mediocre, remember? That’s what you’ll always be.
The thought drifted through her brain, thorny and sharp. It wasn’t anything her aunt and uncle had ever told her outright, but their silence when it came to her had left a void. A void that her own thoughts had filled for her. Because there had to be a reason that they’d never been interested in her. Never asking her if she’d done her homework, never wanting to know which part she’d got in the school play. Never remembering her birthday and never asking to see her school reports. Never really asking her about herself at all.
She’d been forgotten. She’d always thought that maybe it was because she wasn’t that interesting. Nothing special about her, nothing that would catch anyone’s attention. She’d tried not to listen to those thoughts, tried to prove to herself that she was better than what her aunt and uncle thought, that she was intelligent and strong and special. But she’d never really believed it.
Not until Aristophanes had come to her the night she’d hit her head, because he hadn’t been able to stay away. Then he’d given her the most perfect night she’d ever had, and for that brief time she’d believed. She’d believed she was as special as he made her feel.
She looked up into his cool silver eyes. ‘You tell me. Do you want to know me purely for the sake of the babies? Or for yourself?’ She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question, but it had to be asked. For her own peace of mind if nothing else.
‘What difference would that make?’
‘It wouldn’t in the greater scheme of things. But it would make a difference to me.’
‘You don’t think you’re worth it,’ he said slowly, staring at her intently, as if she were a difficult text he was translating. And it was not a question.
The heat in her cheeks intensified and a desperate vulnerability crawled through her, making her turn her head to look out of the window so she didn’t have to look into his eyes. She didn’t like that he’d managed to see that about her. Then again, should she really have been so surprised? He was a genius, while she...
His thumb and forefinger gripped her chin, forcing her gaze back to his. ‘Look at me,’ he ordered softly. ‘Is that what this is about?’
Unable to pull away, Nell could do nothing but stare back. ‘I mean, would you think you were worth knowing? If no one in your entire life had ever shown any interest in you?’ She threw the words at him almost defiantly.
He scowled again, but this time she had the odd sense that it wasn’t her he was angry with. ‘Iam showing an interest,’ he said flatly. ‘And if I am showing an interest then, yes, you are definitely worth knowing.’
A quiver ran through her, almost a tremble. ‘But only because I’m the mother of your children. Not for any other reason, right?’
‘Wrong.’ His grip on her chin tightened. ‘I want to know for myself. You are a puzzle, Nell. And I like puzzles. I like puzzles very much.’ His thumb stroked her chin and before she could move, he’d bent his head and his mouth brushed over hers.
A shock of desire went through her and she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back, because she was hungry for this. For him.
He allowed the kiss for a second, then pulled away. ‘No,’ he murmured, his breathing fast. ‘No, we can’t do this.’ He released her and stepped back. ‘Rest now. I will have the housekeeper unpack your things. But tonight...’ His gaze intensified. ‘You will tell me everything about yourself over dinner, understand?’