"She was looking at you as if you're the only man in the world. And the conversation you were having with her, looked very intimate."
His irritation grew. "It was just a normal conversation. She's divorced and..." he shrugged restlessly. "We were just catching up. She had been away for several years, and I never saw her for a while. She moved to France to pursue a singing career and be with her husband. Now she's divorced and back home."
"That's quite a lot of details. You did not introduce me to your wife. Was that deliberate, I wonder."
He sent her a fulminating look before easing away.
"Where are you going?"
"To the bloody bathroom, my bladder is filled to bursting." Swinging his legs off the bed, he stalked towards the room and slammed the door for good measure.
Rolling her eyes, she pulled the quilt over her and wondered why she was so dead set on prolonging the conversation. She was so used to him having eyes only for her that it had jolted her to see the way he looked at the woman. Jealousy had come swift and sharp and had to be tamped out.
She had wanted to march over and drag the bitch away by her blonde roots.
He came back in and slid into bed, eyes searching her face. "Are we done?"
"We're done when I say we are. And I don't see why you're getting so hot under the collar about it. Unless this woman means something to you."
"It was a long time ago. All I feel is mild affection for someone I cared about when I was a teenager. Bloody hell!" he dragged his fingers through his hair and fisted them. "Why are you bent on spoiling our honeymoon?"
"All I wanted was answers, just that." Rising, she marched to the dresser to pull a drawer out and searched for pajamas. "That's all. No need to get so upset."
"I'm not..." he started to say when she pressed a hand on her chest. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Don't tell me that." He was off the bed like a flash when she turned and rushed into the bathroom. His face whitened when she slid to the floor and started retching.
He hurried after her, concern overriding his lingering frustration. Dropping to his knees beside her, he gently gathered her hair back and murmured soothing words, his anger forgotten now that worry took over. The sight of her pale face and trembling hands set his heart racing in a way jealousy never could.
Patiently waiting until she was through, he gathered her up and took her to the sink. Filling the glass with water from the tap, he held it to her mouth. When she rinsed and spat several times, he silently carried her to the bed where he sat and cradled her like a child, rocking back and forth as she turned her face into his chest.
"I'm sorry." He murmured over and over again, his lips brushing the top of her head. "Please forgive me baby. I love you. Only you."
"I know." She lifted her head to give him a tremulous smile. "I was being a royal bitch."
Tilting her face up, he rested his forehead on hers and heaved out a breath. "I don't ever want you to go through anything like this again."
"It's all right."
"No, it's not." Raising his head, he stared at her fiercely. "You don't understand what it does to me to hear you, to see you on your knees, suffering like that. It breaks me." His hands cupped her face. "It makes me feel helpless."
"How about making me some tea?"
He stared at her for a second as if his mind had gone blank. "Tea? Of course. How stupid of me. I should have offered..."
"Darling." She placed two fingers over his lips vertically. "Stop with the guilt. I'm fine. I guess the Colcannon did it. I should have stuck with the fish and chips."
"Noted." He kissed her forehead. "Some strong Irish tea coming right up." He held her for a minute. "Sure, you're all right?"
"I am."
He finally released her, slipping off the bed, but not before smoothing the hair from her forehead with the gentlest of touches. She watched his silhouette in the half-light as he padded quietly to the kitchenette, listening to the clink of the kettle being filled and placed on the stove. The subtle, everyday noise grounded her, reminding her that despite the storm of emotions, there were still these small acts of care tethering them together.
For a moment, she closed her eyes, letting the promise of warmth and familiarity soothe the last of her nerves.
He came back with a tray. "I found some tea biscuits as well."
