She stifled the ungenerous thought. And the prickle of envy that came with it. He was with her now, in their kitchen. That was what mattered.
Crossing to the kitchen counter, he opened and closed the drawers.
‘They’re in the drawer on the far right,’ she said, realising she had moved things around some since he’d lived here.
He poured her a glass of water and watched while she took a pill. Then handed her another. ‘Take two,’ he said. ‘I didn’t like the sound of that groan.’
She dutifully obeyed then handed him back the glass.
‘Is there anything else that will help?’ he asked. ‘A massage? A heat pack? Food? Wine? Sex?’
‘Sex? You wish!’ She smiled at the urgent, solicitous tone. ‘That’s the absolute last thing I want,’ she said, protesting maybe a bit too much as a familiar heat flushed her skin.
Who knew? The thought of making love to her husband while she was having her period wasn’t nearly as icky as she might once have assumed. But he didn’t need to know that, she decided. It would be nice just to absorb him tonight and the novelty of having him in their home, and take some much-needed comfort from their friendship to bolster her flagging ego. Her period was the perfect excuse not to jump each other the first chance they got.
‘Well, hey, it was worth a try,’ he said, smiling sheepishly as he put the box of pills and the water glass on the countertop.
Nope, definitely not a guy freaked out by periods.
‘So what’s your news?’ she said, trying to get comfortable on the kitchen stool as her belly tightened again. ‘Is it the Waterfront deal?’
‘Nope,’ he said. ‘But I’m not telling you until we’ve got you comfortable. I don’t want you freaking out on me.’
Freaking out? Why would she freak out? Her tired mind shot straight to a worst-case scenario. Was he about to tell her he didn’t need his fake wife any more?
‘Arrêtes... Stop it.’ His smile widened as he clasped her chin. ‘I can see you’re panicking already. Relax, it’s good news, I swear. You’re going to be pleased when you get used to the idea.’
Get used to the idea. Okay, that didn’t sound that good either. How could something to do with his business affect her, other than their marriage? But then he kissed her on the nose, the gesture so sweet, her heart butted her tonsils so hard she had trouble breathing, let alone thinking.
* * *
Dominic forced himself to release her, aware of the emotion glittering in her eyes. And ignored the tight feeling in his chest.
He’d dealt with this feeling many times before. His heart felt too full, too big every time he gave her advice and her eyes lit up with understanding, every time he gave her a compliment and she blushed, every time they made love and he watched her respond without holding an ounce of herself back until she shattered. And every time he left her bed and the desire to keep her, to hold her, to stay with her just a little longer threatened to overwhelm him.
This time was no different from any of those. He couldn’t allow himself to get sentimental about what they had, or too attached.
It would only complicate this relationship more. And it was already complicated enough. But as she looked at him, the gratitude plain on her face, he couldn’t seem to make himself regret his concern at the bruised smudges under her eyes. She needed a decent meal, and for the painkillers to kick in before he told her his news.
He knew it was going to freak her out, because according to Megan she’d already resisted this development, which was why he’d flown across an ocean to persuade her.
That was her insecurity talking. She needed a nudge now, and he intended to give it to her. But only once she’d stopped looking so fragile.
The sweet smile, and the explanation—that she was struggling with period pain—had been a relief. So much so that when her smile had disappeared, he’d felt the loss of it right down to his soul.
And he had a bad feeling he knew the cause. She had assumed he was going to suggest they end the marriage.
Which was insane. Why would he end an arrangement that was working so well?
He’d been in complete control of when and where and how often they met. And the sex had been phenomenal—hot, raw and wildly exciting. So much so that he’d got into the habit of accepting invitations to events he would never usually have bothered attending—simply so he would have an excuse to get his hands on her hot, sweet, responsive body again.
Which had to explain why each time they were together, each time he took her to his bed, he’d found it harder and harder not to demand she stay.
It was probably a good thing she was on her period and not in the mood this evening. He needed to put a few brakes on his libido.
Too much of a good thing was turning him into a fool.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked. ‘It should get the painkillers working faster.’