Page 78 of The Wrong Husband

I close my eyes against the pain in his words.

"Please, Phe, I miss you."

"You know it’s over." I lower my voice. "You need to move on, Drew."

"It’s not over for me, Phe. You tell me out of the blue that you’re not in love with me anymore. That everything was a mistake. We’ve been together for over a year. You need to give me time to come to terms with what you’re asking."

Why now?Why, when I finally feel like I can move on, is he calling me?

I grit my teeth.

Just as I am starting to let go of the guilt associated with him, he pops up. It’s like he has a sixth sense of when I'm feeling good about myself and wants to mess up the moment.

I bite down on the rising frustration and force myself to take a breath.

“I'll be there,” I blurt out, because it's the only thing I can say that will get him to stop.

I disconnect, drop the phone in my bag, then turn and gasp, for Connor’s standing behind me.

"I have to go into work,” I explain.

His expression relaxes. "As long as I don’t have a competitor for your attentions."

My throat closes. My stomach bottoms out. I manage to keep the shock off my face. At least, I hope I do.

"And if you did?" I ask in a light tone. "What would you do about that Mr. Davenport?"

"You’d never be happy with anyone else."

A surprised chuckle wells up. "So arrogant."

He clamps his arm about my waist, then draws me up on my toes and into him.

"No one else can make you orgasm like me. No one else can satisfy you but me.”

"Cool it, James Bond." I pat his massive chest. "It was only a colleague, and I really need to be getting to the hospital."

He scans my features, then nods. "You haven’t answered my question."

"Which one?"

"How do you feel about our marriage being real? In every respect."

I like it too much.A flush steals over my cheeks. I want our marriage to be real. I want him. Want. Him. Need. Him. I ache to feel him inside of me. I have no doubt, when we make love, it’s going to blow my mind. That he’ll teach me just how much pleasure my body is capable of. That he’ll bring to fruition those darker, most hidden parts of me that he’s begun to awaken. My emotions must show on my face, for his eyes flash.

"Tell me,” he demands. "I want to hear it from you."

"I want it." My breath hitches. "I want our marriage to be real, too."

29

Connor

I peer through the windshield of the car at the doors to the hospital. I parked a little way off, so she wouldn’t notice my car.

After I dropped her, I wanted to wait for her and bring her home, but she said she didn’t know how long she’d take in there. She told me it was best I leave and that she’d find her way back home. I agreed, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

I can’t stand to be away from her. But I also don’t want to crowd her—I’ll simply watch her from a distance. There’s no telling how long she's going to be in there. It might be midnight by the time she’s done. But I’m fine to wait. I want to make sure that she gets home okay.