Edging open the kitchen door, she gasped.
‘Dominic?’
The wave of emotion almost floored her.
Was she having an out-of-body experience? Because she’d imagined him in her home, their home, so many times in the last couple of months? Had she somehow conjured him up because she needed him here?
He seemed real and solid enough though, as he turned from the countertop. Dressed in faded denim and a T-shirt, his feet bare and his hair mussed, he looked so different from how she usually saw him—which was either formally dressed or gloriously naked.
‘At last you’re home. Where have you been?’ he said, in his usual direct way, the slight frown making her heart tick into her throat. ‘It’s past ten o’clock—you should have finishe
d work hours ago.’
Yup, that was her husband: pushy and overprotective.
He stalked towards her, then cradled her cheek, his gaze gliding over her face, his expression intense and observant. ‘Tu as l’air fatiguée.’
You look exhausted.
She leaned into his callused palm despite the less than complimentary comment. Joy enveloped her as she breathed in his scent. Spicy cologne and clean pine soap. A scent she often dreamed about on the nights she spent alone.
She covered his hand. ‘I didn’t know you were coming to London,’ she said, not making any effort to keep the pleasure out of her voice. ‘It’s so wonderful to see you.’
She smothered the tiny voice, warning her not to get sentimental, or over-invested. Just this once, she wanted to rejoice in the unexpected gift of spending an evening home alone with her husband.
‘I’ve got a meeting in Mayfair tomorrow,’ he said. ‘And some news about the business that I wanted to deliver in person.’
News? About his business? She couldn’t imagine what it could be, but it was so good to have him standing in front of her, warm and solid and frowning. And even more wonderful to know that when something happened in his working life, she was the one he wanted to tell about it.
It was comforting to know that even if their marriage had considerable limitations they had managed to become friends as well as lovers in the last two months.
‘What’s the news?’ she said, then grimaced as a cramp tightened across her abdomen.
He swore softly, then clasped her shoulders. ‘What’s wrong? Are you ill?’
‘No, I’m... I’m fine,’ she said, stupidly pleased by his concern.
‘Don’t lie,’ he said, lifting her chin. ‘I can see the pain in your eyes.’
‘It’s nothing,’ she said, but the cramp chose that precise moment to tighten like a vice and a small groan escaped her lips.
‘That’s it!’ He tugged his smartphone out of his back pocket. ‘I’m calling an ambulance.’
She laughed and grasped his wrist as he lifted the phone to his ear. ‘Dominic, don’t. Really, that’s not necessary, it’s just...’ She hesitated, a flush heating her skin.
‘It’s just what?’ he demanded, his frown deepening.
‘It’s period pain,’ she said, realising how ridiculous it was to be embarrassed to talk to her husband about something so natural. ‘It started this morning. It’s always sore the first twelve hours or so.’
His arm dropped, as he tucked the phone back into his pocket, but the frown remained. She wondered if he was one of those men who freaked out about women’s menstrual cycles. Weird she didn’t even know that, when they’d been married for two months. But then being on the pill meant she’d been able to time her periods so they didn’t fall on the nights they spent together.
‘Have you taken any painkillers?’ He slid a warm hand around her neck, his thumb stroking the pulse-point below her ear.
‘Not yet,’ she said.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘Then let’s fix that, first,’ he said with his usual confidence.
No surprise there, then. Dominic wasn’t one of those guys who was freaked out by periods. But then why would he be? He’d dated loads of women before her.