Page 21
Story: The Forgotten Wife
If he heard the flippancy in her tone, he chose to ignore it.
“Did you sleep well?” He leaned close, his breath caressing her ear.
She tried to hide her shiver. “Yes, I did, thank you.” She cleared her throat, eager to dispel the lump lodged there, and moved away from him on the pretext of sipping of her drink. His hands slid off her shoulders, but he didn’t leave her side. Instead, he came around to stand in front of her. One fingertilted her chin to inspect her face, as if he were verifying for himself that she had indeed slept well.
For a brief moment, she wished she’d at least put on some lip gloss, maybe a stroke of mascara. Then she pushed the thought away. What did it matter what she looked like? He’d never seen her as more than a possession to be owned and controlled—and forgotten when she’d dared to challenge him.
“No jet lag?”
“I think I’m too grateful to be in one piece to worry about jet lag.”
His eyes darkened before his lids swept down to veil his expression.
Belle took the opportunity to conduct a survey of her own. He’d also taken a shower at some point; his damp hair curled at his nape. He’d changed into dark blue chinos, which sat low on his hips and clung to powerful thighs. The top buttons of his white short-sleeved shirt were open, revealing the golden column of his throat and a whirl of dark hair just below.
Her gaze reluctantly came back to his as he glanced back up. That was when she saw the apprehension lurking in his eyes. It was faint, buried beneath the usual self-assuredness he wore like a second skin, but Belle still saw it.
“What’s wrong?”
“You mean besides the fear that if you continue to glare at me like that I’ll turn to stone?”
“Don’t treat me like a child, Nick. Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about.” When her lips pursed, he shrugged. “I’ve spent the last couple of hours on the phone to the office putting out a few fires I’d rather not be handling. I’m a little on edge. Then I walk in here to find you’ve come down without calling for me to come get you. The thought of you injuring yourself further doesn’t make me happy. I think we need to talk about that. As well as a few other things.”
He turned and addressed Demetra in Greek. Belle watched in dismay as the woman smiled, nodded enthusiastically, and waved them off.
“Dinner won’t be ready for another half hour, so we’re at loose ends until then,” Nick translated. “How about the living room?”
She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m perfectly fine here. I’m happy to keep Demetra company and give her a hand, so I’ll see you in half an hour.”
“I think Demetra would prefer not to feel she has to entertain you while she’s preparing our meal. Also, I need to attend to your feet before dinner. The antiseptic cream I applied on the plane would’ve washed off with your shower. You don’t want to risk infection.”
Faced with the neat counterattack, she had no response. About to stand, she gasped as Nick swept her into his arms. She curled one hand over his bicep to keep her balance and silently withstood Demetra’s approving gaze as he carried her out of the kitchen.
“Damn it, Nick, put me down,” she demanded as soon as they reached the hallway. “I’m not some rag doll you can sweep up and set down every time you feel the urge.”
His jaw clenched, and a nerve ticked in his temple. “You are in no condition to walk around on those feet. If I didn’t think you’d kick up an unholy stink, I’d get you a damn wheelchair.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“I would, but I kinda like this option better, so you’ll have to put up with me carrying you around.”
The thought that he would do so whenever he felt like it caused her breath to fracture. “That’s ridiculous, not to mention overbearing.”
He ignored her outburst as his accusing eyes raked her face. “You lied when you said you were fine to walk through the jungle.
Why?”
She flushed, dropping her hand when she felt his muscles bunch under her fingers. “I didn’t want to hold everyone up.”
He bit out a sharp curse and hefted her closer. “I could’ve carried you and covered the same ground in faster time.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
“Because of your pride or because you no longer deem me worthy of carrying you?”
She raised her chin. “Both.”
“Did you sleep well?” He leaned close, his breath caressing her ear.
She tried to hide her shiver. “Yes, I did, thank you.” She cleared her throat, eager to dispel the lump lodged there, and moved away from him on the pretext of sipping of her drink. His hands slid off her shoulders, but he didn’t leave her side. Instead, he came around to stand in front of her. One fingertilted her chin to inspect her face, as if he were verifying for himself that she had indeed slept well.
For a brief moment, she wished she’d at least put on some lip gloss, maybe a stroke of mascara. Then she pushed the thought away. What did it matter what she looked like? He’d never seen her as more than a possession to be owned and controlled—and forgotten when she’d dared to challenge him.
“No jet lag?”
“I think I’m too grateful to be in one piece to worry about jet lag.”
His eyes darkened before his lids swept down to veil his expression.
Belle took the opportunity to conduct a survey of her own. He’d also taken a shower at some point; his damp hair curled at his nape. He’d changed into dark blue chinos, which sat low on his hips and clung to powerful thighs. The top buttons of his white short-sleeved shirt were open, revealing the golden column of his throat and a whirl of dark hair just below.
Her gaze reluctantly came back to his as he glanced back up. That was when she saw the apprehension lurking in his eyes. It was faint, buried beneath the usual self-assuredness he wore like a second skin, but Belle still saw it.
“What’s wrong?”
“You mean besides the fear that if you continue to glare at me like that I’ll turn to stone?”
“Don’t treat me like a child, Nick. Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about.” When her lips pursed, he shrugged. “I’ve spent the last couple of hours on the phone to the office putting out a few fires I’d rather not be handling. I’m a little on edge. Then I walk in here to find you’ve come down without calling for me to come get you. The thought of you injuring yourself further doesn’t make me happy. I think we need to talk about that. As well as a few other things.”
He turned and addressed Demetra in Greek. Belle watched in dismay as the woman smiled, nodded enthusiastically, and waved them off.
“Dinner won’t be ready for another half hour, so we’re at loose ends until then,” Nick translated. “How about the living room?”
She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m perfectly fine here. I’m happy to keep Demetra company and give her a hand, so I’ll see you in half an hour.”
“I think Demetra would prefer not to feel she has to entertain you while she’s preparing our meal. Also, I need to attend to your feet before dinner. The antiseptic cream I applied on the plane would’ve washed off with your shower. You don’t want to risk infection.”
Faced with the neat counterattack, she had no response. About to stand, she gasped as Nick swept her into his arms. She curled one hand over his bicep to keep her balance and silently withstood Demetra’s approving gaze as he carried her out of the kitchen.
“Damn it, Nick, put me down,” she demanded as soon as they reached the hallway. “I’m not some rag doll you can sweep up and set down every time you feel the urge.”
His jaw clenched, and a nerve ticked in his temple. “You are in no condition to walk around on those feet. If I didn’t think you’d kick up an unholy stink, I’d get you a damn wheelchair.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“I would, but I kinda like this option better, so you’ll have to put up with me carrying you around.”
The thought that he would do so whenever he felt like it caused her breath to fracture. “That’s ridiculous, not to mention overbearing.”
He ignored her outburst as his accusing eyes raked her face. “You lied when you said you were fine to walk through the jungle.
Why?”
She flushed, dropping her hand when she felt his muscles bunch under her fingers. “I didn’t want to hold everyone up.”
He bit out a sharp curse and hefted her closer. “I could’ve carried you and covered the same ground in faster time.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
“Because of your pride or because you no longer deem me worthy of carrying you?”
She raised her chin. “Both.”
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