***
The next two days blurred. Phones, filing, learning names and matching them with faces. And then the nausea hit full force. She staggered back from her desk, muttering curses under her breath.
"This is your fault, Dorian," she hissed while bent over the sink. "First for knocking me up, then for doing it with twins. Twins! You couldn't even manage a vasectomy right, could you?"
When she stumbled out of the office that evening, a black car idled at the curb.
The driver jumped out nervously. "Miss, please. I've been told to take you home."
"I'll walk."
"Please, miss." Sweat stood out on his forehead. "I'll lose my job if I don't drive you home." Her patience was running thin, annoyance tangling with the desire to commit murder. Dorian hadn't followed her. He hadn't called. But she could feel him, somewhere behind the scenes, orchestrating things as always, keeping his distance while he made his lists and devised his plans.
She sighed. "Fine," she muttered, yanking open the door and sliding into the back seat. The relief that poured off the driver was almost comical; his shoulders sagged as if he'd just been granted a pardon.
As the car eased into traffic, Rune eyed him in the rear-view mirror. "What's your name?"
He blinked, startled. "Keith, miss."
"Where's Eli?" she asked as they pulled away from the curb.
"Oh, uh...he had a problem with his daughter. Something at school, I think," the driver said quickly.
"Right." Rune leaned her head against the window, watching the blur of streetlights. The hum of the car and the steady rhythm of the road lulled her into her own thoughts. She thought it was her imagination, but she seemed to be getting heavier by the day-her clothes a wee bit tighter, her steps slightly slower, the fatigue dragging her down even before lunchtime.
"And where's Dorian?" she asked, half asleep.
The question hung there, heavy. She could almostseethe wheels in the man's brain whirring, trying to decide what was safe to say.
"It's been a week," she murmured, half to herself. "I have had no messages beyond his daily 'Good morning, can we talk?' at seven sharp." A hollow laugh escaped her. "You'd think he had that scheduled on a daily basis."
The driver said nothing, gripping the wheel tighter. Rune crossed her arms, glaring out the window. "Tell Dorian,” she said finally, her tone clipped, "I don't accept messages by pigeon mail or any other mail, for that matter. If he has something to say, he can do it properly."
"Yes, miss," the driver said quickly, as though his life depended on it.
Chapter thirty
Chapter 30
That afternoon, Rune had just eaten dinner and had waddled upstairs to lie down when a knock sounded at the door.
She didn't need to be an oracle to know who it was. Her inner antenna flickered to life,of course,it could only be him. He-who-shall-forever-be-on-Rune's-shit list.
She turned to her side, weariness seeping into her bones.Some things never change,she thought.Like Dorian's complete inability to wait. And awful timing. Now I need to get up!
By the time she reached the hall, her mother was talking far too fast, and her father stood behind her with his arms crossed like he might toss Dorian out. A little difficult, considering Dorian outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, all of it muscle. As soon as he heard her footsteps on the stairs, Dorian's curly blond head lifted. His eyes found her instantly, scanning her from head to toe with an intensity that made her skin prickle. His gaze usually gave nothing away, dark and expressionless, a black hole that swallowed light and feeling alike.
But not today.
Today, there was something new in them, possessiveness, worry... maybe even awe. His eyes lingered a second too long on her breasts before flicking up again, right in front of her parents. Rune almost giggled. Her treacherous, pregnant brain chose that moment to conjure an image of himwithoutclothes. She shook it off.No, Rune. Bad Rune.
He cleared his throat, finally realising they were still just standing there staring at each other. "I thought we could... go for a walk?" A walk was better than an audience. Her mum would have her ear pressed to the door, her dad not far behind. Rune quickly grabbed her coat, scarf, and cap.
Outside, the air was cool and damp. "I thought we might get a cup of tea," Dorian said as they reached the car.
The winter months were here and the sun had set hours ago.
"Fine," she muttered. "Let's get this over with."
