hand to me. Can’t resist grabbing her wrist, sliding up to her fingers, and holding her just like that.
It’s my turn to feel that strangeness hit. I can’t even remember the last time I ever held a woman’s hand. I’ve never hurt for attention, or putting my balls to good use whenever I want, but it seems like that’s all I’ve done between raising Bryce.
Romance? No fucking time. No motivation, either, if I’m blunt.
Still, it almost feels natural as an easy calm settles in. We spend most of the afternoon just sitting on the lanai, not doing much of anything. Fine and dandy.
She dozes on and off with the cat on her lap, and during those naps, I scour the web on my laptop, learning all I can about her family’s company, King Heron Fishing, Val by visiting social media sites, and Cornaro news by scanning underground sites through a secure cloud based network. It lets me log into the dark web undetected.
She’s awake when Cash arrives for the evening check-in.
I get the grill going while he’s examining her. It keeps me busy while being close enough to take in everything going on.
He doesn’t stay long, and I follow him into the kitchen.
“What’s the verdict?” I’m hoping like hell for some good news.
“She’s doing well,” he says. “No sign of internal injuries or long-term muscular damage at all.” He nods to the archway that leads to the living room and front door, then leans in and whispers, “I left an envelope on the table by the front door. Take a look when you get a chance.”
“Wha—” Sensing someone’s footsteps in the breezeway, I change my question. “When will you be back?”
“Tomorrow as planned,” he says, nodding at Val in the doorway. “But call if you need me sooner.”
“Okay. Will do.” She nods and walks over to stand next to me.
Cash leaves. I dig out the ingredients for a salad to go with the fish I’m about to grill.
She’s hesitant when it comes to assembling the salad. I’m guessing it’s not because she doesn’t remember, but she’s probably never spent much time in a kitchen. Her family is loaded, wealthy beyond belief, old world blue blood that makes my nouveau riches look like a damn joke.
It’s likely she’s been served her meals by a maid and had them cooked by a chef. The full American princess treatment.
We eat, clean up, and then I put a nightgown Cash included with the clothes in the bathroom for her. After she crawls into bed, I grab her more pain pills and a glass of water.
After swallowing the meds, she stares at me for a long time.
I can’t look away.
Those golden eyes are mesmerizing. She’s so fucking beautiful and frail it hurts, this soft, confused young thing eyeing me like I can make all her worries vanish in a flash.
If only. Hell, just admitting how hot she is feels like a weird relief, considering I’ve been fighting it all day.
“Aren’t you coming to bed?” she asks, sitting up.
Shit. Here we go.
I shake my head, having decided I’d sleep upstairs in Bryce’s room. “Figured you’d be better off with the bed to yourself. I’ll sleep—”
“What? Why?” She shrugs. “It’s a big bed, and...”
Oh, hell. Her cheeks go rosy pink, and then her words hit me right between the eyes. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Well, fuck.
When she looks at me with those big gold eyes, something happens. Probably the same thing that’s been happening ever since Cash pulled up and I carried her into my house.
My heart starts thudding, telling me I’m not as immune to her magic as I thought.
My hands clench at my sides, forming fists, like some screwed up secret prayer trying to save us both from a cataclysm.
“Please, Flint?” she whispers. “We’re married, aren’t we?”
Right. That whole thing, I think to myself. Where’s the sniper to put me out of my misery?
I’ll kick myself in the ass for this later.
“Okay,” I finally agree. Gritting my teeth at the way other parts of my body react, I tell her, “Just let me hop in the shower first.”
She beams like the sun, stroking the cat that followed us in here. It’s resting on the bed beside her. “We’ll be here.”
Just frigging great. Another adjustment, having to share my bed with a mini cheetah and a girl who just might make me hard enough to hit a home run.
I head to the bathroom, shaking my head as soon as the door’s shut.
No lie, this might