“No idea, but I intend to find out.”
“You mean we will find out, right?” she said.
“No. I think it’s better that I talk to him first…dammit, don’t give me that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re about to rain hell on my head again. You’re not coming anywhere near this guy until I know it’s safe. And sure, you can hate me for that, too.”
“Nick!”
“Nope, I won’t change my mind. I’ll see you later. In the meantime, I suggest you take a swim or find a better book to read. This one’s obviously not doing the trick with calming your frame of mind.” Leaning down, he planted what she could only call a hard, possessive kiss on her shoulder, then he straightened and started to walk away. “As for not touching you, baby. It’ll only happen when I have no breath left in my body.”
Livid at his arrogance and at her body’s leap of pleasure at his touch, she jerked her feet off the lounger and twisted around to glare after him.
“This book is perfectly adequate. And my frame of mind has never been better!” But she didn’t even get a backward glance before he disappeared from view.
For your sake, I hope you know what you’re doing. She gave in to the childish urge to fling her book after him, mourning its loss for only a second when it skidded along the ground and landed in the pool. Lips pursed, she tracked the progress of the now sodden novel.
When she sprang up in agitation a few minutes later and dove in after it, she wasn’t sure which emotion reigned supreme—her unsettled feelings where Nick was concerned or her sheer terror that there was someone—perhaps several someones—out there, digging into what happened to her at Nawaka.
Chapter Six
Nick closed his study door with a decisive click, resisting the temptation to slam it. He looked around the dark-paneled room—the only room in the villa not painted in bright colors—and thought how well it suited his mood. He was spending so much time in here that he might as well move in his bed and start taking his meals at his desk. Then he wouldn’t have to annoy his impossible wife with his presence. He ran an agitated hand through his hair and sank into the leather chair behind his desk.
He knew Belle needed time to heal, but hell, this tiptoeing around her was driving him nuts. It didn’t help that she insisted on picking fights and touching on subjects he’d rather leave alone.
Children. Hi
s mind skittered away from the subject. It was inevitable that he’d have to reveal all the gory details to Belle one day.
But for now, her safety came first.
That meant getting to the bottom of just what Richard Francis knew. The reporter had been decidedly cryptic when Nick had spoken to him on the phone two nights ago. He’d deliberately delayed getting in touch with Francis, because he’d wanted to gather as much information on him as possible.
So far, the Daily Bugle reporter seemed clean. But Nick wasn’t naïve enough to believe that everything was above board. Francis had used the one name he knew would get Nick’s attention. But he wouldn’t hesitate to shut him down if the guy in any way threatened Belle’s safety.
Which brought him to the next thing riling him. The idea of letting a complete stranger onto the island made him seriously nervous, but leaving Belle here alone to go meet with Francis was out of the question.
It was a good thing Alex had sent additional security from his personal team. Now he had two-dozen men protecting the island—more than enough to safeguard the most important thing in his life.
And yet he couldn’t relax.
Every time he stopped for a moment or closed his eyes, he remembered the terror he’d felt when he thought his wife was lost to him. It was the same terror he’d experienced when he’d heard her scream in her sleep.
The doctor he’d flown in had prescribed her mild sleeping pills after Nick had brushed aside Belle’s protests and told him about her nightmare.
Holding her in his arms, feeling her tremble with fear had been one of the hardest things he’d ever gone through. Keeping his anger at bay for the thug who’d done this to her while fighting the intense reaction holding her close brought had tested his every last reserve.
Thankfully, she hadn’t suffered any more nightmares since that first night—he knew because he’d listened for her.
Baby steps, the doctor had advised.
Not the most patient of men at the best of times, Nick was going insane waiting for answers. He’d never hidden the fact that he was a man who felt most comfortable in control of his destiny. The dent to that control, and yes, to his pride, when Tinkerbelle had walked away rankled deep; still rankled, truth be told.
The sinking realization that he hadn’t been enough for her made his fists clench. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. She’d claimed he was everything to her at the beginning. He’d believed her, dammit, believed they didn’t need anything else but each other.
He needed to know why she’d changed the rules. He certainly wasn’t prepared…Wasn’t equipped to grant her what she’d asked for…