Something surged high and hard in his chest. Delight. Her trawling gaze had always felt like a caress, even in the days when they’d both tried to stifle the unstoppable attraction between them.
His buoyant joy punctured. Those days had been easy in comparison with what they faced now.
Then they’d both struggled, trying not to break the taboo of an office romance, where the imbalance of power between them was so immense. Or so it would seem to the outside world. In reality Greer had just as much power over him as he had over her. Most of the time they worked as partners, and when it came to essentials they were equals, sharing everything.
Until she walked out on you.
Turned her back without a second thought and left you frantic with fear.
The only other time he’d felt anything like that terror was as a small child, told by strangers that his mother was dead. He’d been taken into care then sent to a father he didn’t know, all the time struggling to comprehend that his mother had left him.
For Greer to abandon him like that proved she hadn’t been herself. The woman he knew was capable yet caring, tender and generous. Yet she’d left him in limbo for weeks, wondering if she were okay… If she were even alive. He’d been frantic about her, and hurt that she’d walked out.
Adrenaline rushed through his blood at the memory, making his heart pound faster while the remembered taste of terror, like rust and blood, filled his mouth.
He’d been frantic, wondering if she’d been so distraught after losing the baby she might harm herself.
He’d told himself Greer wouldn’t do that. But he’d never thought her capable of disappearing as if he meant nothing to her. That had cut deep.
He’d been desperate to get back to her in Australia, then desperate to find her and keep her safe. He felt that same urgency now. To fix things. To heal them.
Conall took his time stretching out the kinks acquired from a night in a chair not built for someone his height. When he opened his eyes it was to see that lapis lazuli gaze whip away towards the morning light filtering around the curtains.
‘How do you feel? How’s your head?’
She looked at him then and at least he couldn’t see that haze of pain that had clouded her eyes yesterday. ‘Good, thanks.’ Then, as he continued to stare, she lifted one shoulder, her mouth forming the tiniest moue, as if regretting being caught out. ‘A lot better at any rate. Thick in the head but it’s not throbbing anymore.’
He nodded, relieved that at least she’d stopped pretending. ‘That’s great news.’ She didn’t want to return to hospital, but any sign of problems and he’d have no compunction taking her. ‘Hungry?’
‘I am, but I’ll wait until I’m home.’
It was a slap in the face. Did she realise how that sounded, or wasn’t she thinking?
Only years exposed to the cutthroat business world, first in his father’s home, then working for himself, allowed Conall to mask his emotions.
‘You really want to do this now?’ He’d hoped things would be easier today. He should have known better.
‘Do what?’
She pushed herself up in the bed, flinging back the bedclothes as if about to rise, only to stop. Wide-eyed, she surveyed the midnight-blue silk-and-lace nightgown she wore. It was provocative and skimpy, drawing attention to every feminine curve.
Conall remembered the first time she’d worn it, sashaying out of their bedroom, a gurgle of laughter spilling from her throat as the plate he held slipped from his grasp.
The memory faded as Greer wrenched the sheet high enough to tuck under her arms, scooting back to sit against the head of the bed.
‘I sold the penthouse. This is home now.’
Greer licked her lips. ‘I meant my apartment.’
‘We’re married, sweetheart. Remember?’
He watched her eyes round as if the endearment surprised her. Every hair on his body stood on end at the realisation of how far she’d receded from him. After everything they’d shared it was the cruellest blow of all.
Conall recalled her words yesterday. Her first thought hadn’t been about their relationship but the baby. His jaw clenched as a beat of pain rose in his body. He understood, of course. But what scared the hell out of him was her dismissive tone when she’d referred to their marriage, spelling out that her pregnancy had been the only reason they’d wed.
She’d spoken of losingherbaby, nottheirbaby. He told himself that was natural, yet it didn’t bode well. Heaviness settled in his belly, cold and hard.
It was only with the news of the miscarriage, while he was so far away he was unable to reach her, that it had truly hit him how much the pregnancy meant to him.
