The Prince's Devious Proposal - Holly Rayner Page 0,37

focus.”

Naomi sighed. “I miss you,” she said. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but it feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen you.”

He sounded slightly irritated when he replied. “I’ll be back soon enough,” he said. “Isn’t it really late there?”

She frowned. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“I’m just busy, Naomi. Can I call you tomorrow?”

“Well, sure. I had kind of assumed we’d talk tomorrow.”

“Great,” he said, and his voice was downright brusque now. “I’ll talk to you then.”

“I love you,” she said.

“Good night,” he said and disconnected.

Naomi stared at her phone. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t sounded anything like the man who had professed to be in love with her on the beach in Barcelona. How could the same person who had planned such a wonderful wedding on the fly for her be so distant toward her now?

Come to think of it…things had been declining in their relationship since their wedding night. She had done her best to look the other way when the fancy accommodations and first-class tickets had been replaced by everyday fare. She really hadn’t married Petr for his money. But when she stood back and looked at the whole picture, she could see that the way he treated her had changed once they were married.

You’re overthinking it, she told herself firmly. Nothing was really wrong. It just felt different because they were so far apart. And he had warned her that he would be working.

Belatedly, she realized that she had never asked him what kind of work he would be doing. There was still so much she didn’t know!

Well, he had promised to speak to her tomorrow. She would let him know about her concerns then. I’ll just have to try to do that without sounding too needy or clingy.

She didn’t want to complain about the coach-class plane ticket. She just wanted to make sure that he still felt the same way about her as he had the day they’d married.

And she was sure he did.

I just need to hear him say it. That’s all.

The following morning, before leaving for work, Naomi called Petr again.

It would be evening in Rome now, she reasoned. He would be finished with his work for the day, and he’d be free to talk to her. She waited eagerly as the phone rang to hear his familiar voice, confident that it would be filled with the warmth she had grown used to instead of the hostility with which he’d spoken to her last night.

The phone rang and rang.

There was no answer.

Finally, Petr’s voice mail picked up. Naomi disconnected without leaving a message. He must have walked away from his phone or something. She would try again after taking her morning shower.

Twenty minutes later, she sat at the breakfast table, her phone set to speaker mode, listening to it ring. Again, there was no answer.

She checked the clock. It was eight fifteen. It would be quarter past five in Rome. She didn’t understand. Why wasn’t Petr answering? He had said that they would speak today.

She left a message this time. “Hey, Petr. I’m about to head to work, but feel free to give me a call anytime and I’ll step out for my lunch break. I’m looking forward to hearing from you. I miss you.”

She hung up, feeling somehow incomplete, and hurried out the door. She was going to be late if she didn’t leave immediately.

All day long, Naomi checked and rechecked her phone, hoping to see something different. Maybe he’ll have texted me, she thought each time she picked it up. Maybe he called and I didn’t hear it ring somehow.

But the line remained quiet. Wherever Petr was, whatever he was doing, he wasn’t reaching out to her.

What was going on?

It didn’t make sense. The Petr she knew would never treat her this way. He had made it clear from the start how much he adored her. And he couldn’t have been lying about that. He had known the words to “Perihelion,” a song of hers that nobody bothered with. Only a real fan would have known such a deep cut. No, he must have been genuine from the very start.

But if that were the case, how could he have lost interest in her so quickly?

I should have asked him what he had to do in Rome.

That was it. If she had asked him what business he had to take care of, she wouldn’t be left battling all these questions now. A good wife would have