My belly flutters, but I push the sensation down before my heart can start believing I’m special. He probably didn’t want anybody touching his helicopter, and is likely upset now that he’s forced to live with a wife he doesn’t want. “How would you know what a woman needs?” It’s impossible to imagine him buying feminine products.
“Madison took care of it.”
“Madison?”
“My assistant.”
I remember her. The carefully put-together blonde guarding his office. She gave me a look full of curiosity but shifted to a hint of judgment when she realized who I was. Call it a woman’s intuition. Enduring Nelson and his family has honed my instincts when it comes to things like this. She doesn’t approve of me, and I don’t think she and I will get along very well.
“She’s going to help plan the wedding, too,” he adds.
“I guess that’s better than Karie ‘helping,’” I say, remembering the scene in his office.
He grunts.
Since he’s feeling a bit sympathetic about my injury, this would be a good time to set some expectations. I need every advantage in dealing with him. “Look, Huxley. Things between us are strained, but I don’t want to live with a lot of tension at home. I hope we can agree to be kind and courteous to each other.”
The car stops at the light. He gives me a long look. My nerves start to fray as I wonder if what I’m asking for is too much for him to accept. It’s possible he’s decided to turn my life into hell. Or just be an impossible dick to live with.
He finally turns back to the road. “We can.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Huxley
By the time I pull into the garage, Grace is breathing evenly, her head resting limply against the window. She exhales softly through those perfect lips, but the bloody crust in the corner reminds me what she suffered earlier.
Fucking asshole.
I should’ve slammed Nelson’s face into the wall until they were both completely flat, then kicked him until his ribs collapsed. I’ve never felt a fury this intense, like burning claws ripping into my gut.
I shut the car off and regard Grace, hating it that she has this effect on me.How is it that I sometimes forget what a manipulative bitch she is?She trapped me—and the baby inside her is the death knell to my bachelorhood, and more importantly, the freedom to choose my own wife.
Shoving aside conflicting emotions, I reach over to shake her awake, then stop. She’s sleeping soundly, and there’s no point disturbing her.
I hope we can agree to be kind and courteous to each other.
With a sigh, I climb out, open the door on her side and pull her into my arms, holding her like a princess.
Just what the hell is wrong with me?The proper course of action would be to tell her to walk inside herself. Her legs aren’t broken.
She sighs and nestles close, her warmth and softness arousing a protective instinct I don’t know I had.
Grace Lain is a danger to my emotional equilibrium.
Still, I don’t force her to walk. I carry her inside to the master bedroom suite and lay her on the enormous California king. She looks so small and delicate on the cool gray sheets. I take off my jacket and drape it over the back of an armchair. She shifts a little, as though seeking a comfortable position.
I pull her up, then reach underneath her top and undo the clasp of her bra. She lets out a relieved breath and leans into me until her unbound breasts are crushed against my arm. The contact sends my blood sizzling. Lust crackles across my skin, and I grit my teeth. I’m not the type to take advantage of a recently abused and exhausted woman. Not to mention pregnant. Regardless of how much I loathe the situation between us, Grace merits consideration for her condition, and the baby deserves the best I can provide.
Reciting the Bill of Rights to distract myself, I change her into a nightshirt that is among the things Madison sent to the house. Then the housekeeper, of course, put everything into the closet in her usual orderly fashion.
Done. I step back, willing my body to settle down. Grace turns her head, showing the injured cheek. It’s going to swell and hurt like hell if I don’t do something about it. A pack of ice would help, but that would disturb her.
What are my options?I stand thinking for a moment, then rummage through the medicine cabinet. There must be something…
Bingo.
