Page 147 of The Betrothal

“Well?” he asked.

I gave him a joking glare, wiggling the thermometer which only served to entertain him.

I shook my head.

“Excellent. I recommend that we take it easy, nothing strenuous, nothing exerting, nothing stressful and absolutely no upset for the next few days. Bed rest, perhaps?” He snagged the thermometer from my mouth, checking it.

“Absolutely not. I’m not on bed rest. I was drugged. I slept it off. Done.” I eyeballed him and he chose not to argue.

“Suit yourself.” He gathered the items back up and returned them to the boot room.

“Is it done?” I asked Alex when he slipped into the kitchen, his body still coiled. The tension eased from him when he saw me.

“Yep, this morning’s news cycle,” he replied. Stepping into my space.

Things had been tense with Alex last night. It didn’t stop them all from piling into one bedroom and sleeping with their bodies touching mine. But I was at a bit of an impasse with my husband.

“Do you want to see?” he asked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, what did I just say about stress?” Seb grumbled before throwing his arms up in defeat when we both glared at him.

“Do I need to?”

“Nope. The synopsis is that it was all a horrible misunderstanding and all in all they couldn’t be more overjoyed for our families to be joined. It’s all just a beautiful outcome from a horrible situation. The Fairchilds have taken the heartbroken-but-wish-us-the-best approach,” Alex summarised.

“Liars.” I laughed.

Alex grinned widely and he’d cupped my jaw before either of us realised it, his eyes softening.

“None of that!” Seb pulled us apart. “Doctor’s orders!”

“I’m going for a shower.” I slipped out of his reach.

“Need company?”

I stalled at Alex’s comment, I hadn’t expected him to be the more forward of the three.

“I think Seb will have a heart attack,” I argued.

“More for us then.” Ben descended the stairs.

Seb grumbled furiously behind me.

“Hey, I’m all for it, but you’ve got to convince the doctor to sign me off!” I dodged for the stairs, the quiet complaints of the men disappearing behind me as I slunk into the bathroom.

I hadn’t lied, I felt completely better. The dizziness and headaches all but gone after a good night’s sleep.

I scrubbed the wedding from my skin. I scrubbed away the drugs and the threats and the horror.

I hadn’t seen the wedding dress since I’d woken in my bedroom and I secretly hoped they’d burned it.

If they hadn’t, then I would.

I half expected to be ambushed on my way back to my room, but I wasn’t.

My clothes weren’t there, so I checked Ben’s and sure enough several shelves were stocked with my clothing.

I dressed, anticipating someone would be in the bedroom when I was finished, but again, there was no-one there.