As he spoke, he smoothed his hand over her hair, stroking gently, and she had to bite her lip to keep the hot tears from slipping down her cheeks again. This wasn’t going to work if she broke down every time he was nice to her or took care of her.
And it wasn’t as if he was doing anything different than he’d done all along. It was one of the things that had made her think he loved her to begin with, even absent of the actual words. He’d been so…good…to her. So caring. Protective. Possessive. A guy couldn’t fake all of that, could he?
“Soup sounds good,” she said faintly.
He continued to stroke her hair and then his hand went still and he frowned. “Is that bothering you? I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure you must be supersensitive to any touch or sound.”
“It was…nice.”
“I’ll be right back. Let me order your soup. You need to get something in your stomach. It might help with the headache, too.”
She closed her eyes as he stood and walked across the room. He stepped outside but she could just make out the low murmur of his voice as he ordered room service. A moment later, he returned and gently laid his hand over her forehead.
“It’ll be here in a few minutes. I told them to put a rush on it.”
“Thank you.”
He was silent for a few seconds and then he said in a voice full of resignation, “I’ll make arrangements for us to fly home in the morning. Perhaps it’s best if you’re back in familiar surroundings. I don’t want you to suffer with a headache the entire week we were supposed to be here. At least at home, you’ll have your family and your friends to surround you and…make you feel better.”
She nodded, her chest heavy and aching with regret. It should have been different. They should have spent the week making love. Laughing. Spending every waking moment immersed in each other.
Instead they’d go back home to a very uncertain future in a world that was suddenly unfamiliar to Ashley. Where she’d have to guard every word, every action.
It frightened her. What if she failed? What if even after she removed the annoyances he still felt nothing more for her than he did now?
Then he doesn’t deserve you, the voice inside her aching head whispered in her ear.
He didn’t deserve her now. The intelligent side of her knew and accepted this. But she wanted him. Wanted his love, his approval. She wanted him to be proud of her.
If that made her an even bigger moron than she’d already been, she could live with that. What she couldn’t live with was just walking away without seeing if their marriage could be salvaged.
“It will be better when we get home,” she whispered.
His hand stilled on her hair but he remained silent as he seemed to contemplate her words. His expression was grim and tension radiated from his body in waves.
Then there was a distant knock and he rose once more. “That’ll be the food. Just stay here. I’ll wheel the cart in and we’ll get you a comfortable spot made up so you can eat in bed.”
He strode out of the room and Ashley lay there a moment mentally recovering from what felt like a barrage of emotional turmoil. Finally she pushed herself upward and sat cross-legged on the bed, with pillows pushed behind her back to keep her propped up.
Devon returned with the rolling table and parked it at the end of the bed. As soon as he uncovered the bowl of soup, the aroma wafted through the air and her mouth watered. On cue, her stomach protested sharply and sweat broke out on her forehead.
“You okay?” Devon asked as he positioned the tray in front of her.
His gaze was focused sharply on her face, his forehead creased with concern. She nodded and reached for the napkin and utensils with shaking hands.
When she would have slid the bowl closer, Devon gently took her hand away.
“Perhaps it would be better if I ladled the soup into a mug so you could sip at it. Less chance of spilling it that way.”
She nodded her agreement and watched as he filled one of the cups on the table with the delicious-smelling broth.
“Here. Careful now, it’s hot.”
She brought the steaming mug to her lips and inhaled, closing her eyes as she tentatively took the first sip.
It was heaven in a coffee cup. The warmth from the soup traveled all the way down to her stomach and settled there comfortably.
“Good?” he asked as he edged his way onto the bed beside her.
“Wonderful.”
He watched as she downed a significant amount of the soup and then he took her medicine bottle from the nightstand and shook out another pill.
“Here. Take this. Once you’re finished you can lie down and hopefully sleep until morning. I’ll wake you up in time to catch the flight. Don’t worry about your things. I’ll lay out something for you to wear on the plane and I’ll pack everything else and have it all ready to go. All you’ll have to do is get dressed and head out to the car when it’s time.”
Even though she was still devastated and angry, she couldn’t be so much of a bitch not to recognize or acknowledge that he was taking absolute care of her.
She leaned back against the pillows, cup in hand, and glanced his way.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
A flash of pain entered his eyes. “I know you don’t believe this right now, but maybe in time you will, Ash. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted this to happen. I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world.”
She swallowed and brought the rim of the cup back to her lips. There wasn’t much she could say to that. She did believe that he wasn’t malicious. If she hadn’t discovered the truth on her own, maybe he would have never told her. She was quite certain he wouldn’t have. Maybe he thought he was doing her a favor by keeping it from her.
He pulled the mug away and then cupped her chin and gently turned her until she looked back at him.
“You’ll see, Ash. We’ll make this work.”
She nodded as she lowered the mug the rest of the way down to the tray in front of her.
“I’ll try, Devon. I’ll try.”
He leaned toward her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you in the morning.”
Twelve
The next morning was a total blur for Ashley. Devon gently woke her and after ascertaining that her headache wasn’t better, he arranged a light breakfast, hovered over her while she ate and then all but dressed her and whisked her into a waiting car.
They drove to the airport and once on the plane, he settled her into her seat and gave her another pill. He propped a pillow behind her head, put a blanket over her and then made sure every single window was shut around her.
She drifted into blissful unawareness as the airplane left the island and traveled back to the cold of New York City.
When they landed, once again Devon ushered her into a waiting car, taking the blanket and pillow with them so she was comfortable in the backseat. She dozed with her head on his shoulder until they reached his apartment and then he gently shook her awake.
“We’re home, Ash. Wait inside the car while I get out. I’ll help you inside.”
Home. She blinked as the looming building floated into her vision through the fogged window of the car. A cold rush of air blew over her as Devon stepped out. He spoke a moment with the doorman and then he reached back in to help her out.
“Careful,” he cautioned as she stepped onto the curb.
He wrapped an arm around her and guided her to the door the doorman held open for them. Once inside, he didn’t loosen his hold. He kept her close all the way up in the elevator until they reached his apartment. Their apartment. It was hard to keep that distinction in her mind.
Their home was already cluttered with her things. She’d moved completely in before the wedding. Devon had suggested having a cleaning lady come in which said to her that he didn’t appreciate the somewhat careless way she kept her stuff. She sighed. One more thing she’d have to work on.
When they entered the bedroom, Devon pulled out one of his workout T-shirts and tossed it onto the bed. “Why don’t you get out of your travel clothes and into something more comfortable. I’ll wake you for dinner so you eat something.”
“I’d rather just lie down on the couch,” she said, reaching for the T-shirt.
His expression darkened and for a moment she couldn’t imagine what she’d done to draw his disapproval. Then it struck her that he assumed she wouldn’t be sleeping in his—their—bed.
It wasn’t something she’d given any consideration. The thought hadn’t even occurred to her. In her mind, if she was staying and making an effort to make their marriage work, she just naturally assumed they’d still sleep together.
Perhaps it wasn’t something she should assume at all. She sank onto the edge of the bed, still foggy and loopy from the medication. She rubbed wearily at her eyes before focusing back on him.
“I only meant that when I have a headache, sometimes I’m more comfortable propped on the couch so I’m not lying flat. However, it does bring up a point that I hadn’t considered. I assumed that we’d continue to…” She swallowed, suddenly feeling vulnerable and extremely unsure of herself. “That is, I just thought we’d continue to sleep together. I have no idea if that’s something you want.”
Devon stalked over, bent down and placed his hands on either sides of her legs so that he was on eye level with her.
“You’ll be in my bed every night. Whether we’re ha**g s*x or not, you’ll be next to me, in my arms.”
“Well, okay then,” she murmured.
He rose and took a step back. “Now, if you’re more comfortable on the couch, change into my shirt and I’ll get you pillows and a blanket for the couch.”
She nodded and sat there watching him as he walked away. She glanced around the room—to all her stuff placed haphazardly here and there—and sighed. When she got rid of this headache, she’d whip the apartment into shape. She’d been away from the shelter more days than she’d ever been away before but the animals were in good hands and they’d be fine while she got the rest of her life in order.
Devon would no doubt be back to work in the morning, which meant she’d have plenty of time alone to figure out things. She wrinkled her nose. Being alone sucked. She was always surrounded by people. In her family she didn’t have to look far if she wanted company. There was always someone to hang out with. And aside from her family, her circle of friends was always available even if for a gab session.
But what was she supposed to talk to them about now? How wonderful her marriage was? Her husband? The aborted honeymoon?
Her head was too fuzzy to even contemplate the intricacies of her relationships right this second. She reached for the T-shirt, shed her own clothes and crawled into Devon’s shirt.
She started to leave her clothes just where they’d dropped on the floor, but she stopped to pick them up and then deposited them into the laundry basket in the bathroom. It was technically Devon’s basket and he might not want her mixing her clothes with his, but she didn’t have a designated place of her own yet. One more thing for the to-do list.
She trudged out to the living room to see that Devon had arranged several pillows and put out a blanket for her. As she started across the floor, Devon appeared from the kitchen. She crawled onto the couch and burrowed into all of the pillows while Devon pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. Then he perched on the edge close to her head.
“Are you feeling any better yet?”
She nodded. “Head doesn’t hurt as bad. A few more hours and it should be fine. Just fuzzy from all the medication. I’ve never had to take three in a row like that.”
He frowned as if he realized the significance of her having the worst headache of her life after their confrontation.
“Rest for a few hours then. I’ll check on you in a bit and see if you’re up for some dinner. I thought we’d eat in, of course. I can order anything you like or if you prefer, I can make something here.”
She nodded.
“I have some calls to make. I’ll let your family know we’re back and why. You just concentrate on feeling better.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “What are you going to tell them?”
He frowned again. “I’m only going to tell them that you came down with a severe headache and that we thought you’d feel better if you were back in your own home.”
She sagged in relief and the knot in her stomach loosened. “They’ll want to come right over, or at least Mom will. Tell her not to bother, please. Let her know I’ll call her soon.”
“Of course. Now get some rest. I’ll sort out dinner later.”
He kissed her forehead, pulled the covers up to her chin and then quietly walked away, flipping off all the lights. She heard the door to his office close and she lay there alone in the darkness.
It wasn’t anything she hadn’t experienced before. In the evenings when Dev got home from work, he often sequestered himself in his office for a time while she watched TV or ordered in their dinner. But she hadn’t felt so alone then. Because she’d known he was just in the next room and that in theory she could walk in there at any time. Only now it was as if a gulf had opened between them and he may as well be on the other side of the moon. She didn’t feel as though she had the right to interrupt him.
She lay there as the haze slowly began to wear off. She braced herself for the inevitable onslaught of pain, but there was only a dull ache that signaled the aftereffects of a much worse headache than she’d experienced in at least two years.
For that matter, she hadn’t been forced to take the pain medication prescribed for her headaches in months. Emotional stress, the doctor had said, was a trigger for her. The last time she’d battled frequent headaches had been when her mom and dad had briefly separated and she’d feared an eventual divorce.