He withdrew quickly after that, moving into the bathroom and starting a bath for her. Then he returned, ushering her in, waiting until she was submerged in the water before meeting her gaze. “I imagine you want some time alone.”
No. She absolutely did not want time alone. She wanted him to hold her because she was pretty sure she was going to break apart. He had changed something deep inside of her. And he hadn’t finished. She was shattered, but she wasn’t remade.
“Yes,” she heard herself saying, not sure where the response had come from.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
* * *
She snapped back to the present, to this moment. To this kiss that bore no resemblance to anything that had occurred on that night. He had accused her of changing, but he wasn’t the same either.
He kissed her neck, down to her collarbone, retracing that same path with the tip of his tongue. She found herself tearing at his shirt, her heart thundering hard, every fiber of her being desperate to have him. Desperate to have him inside her again. Like that night in his office. That night when the promise that had been broken on their wedding night was finally fulfilled.
I feel nothing.
His words from that night reached between them, hit her with the impact of a slap.
She pushed away from him, breathing hard. “Don’t.”
“You want to,” he said, his words cutting and far too true.
“So? We don’t have to do everything we want.” She, of all people, truly shouldn’t. “Anyway, I know from experience that sex with you produces a host of regrets.”
“Do you regret being pregnant?”
“How can you not regret it? You’re going to find a new wife.” She disentangled herself from his hold, moving away from him, over to the window, turning her focus out to the view. Out to the sea below. “Having your heir belong to the wrong woman must be an upsetting prospect.”
“Not especially. Because I do not intend to divorce you.”
“Why?”
“You are having my child. There is no reason for me to marry another. None at all.”
“So, you’re suggesting we simply...ignore our marriage?”
“If you prefer. I should like to reach some kind of agreement with you, but you have been very unreasonable lately.”
“And you have been a cold fish for the last five years.”
She found herself being tugged back up against him, his lips crashing down on hers. He gripped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, his dark eyes blazing into hers. “Did that feel cold to you?” he ground out after they separated.
“You contrary man. Why do you only want something once it’s been taken from you?”
He drew back as though she had slapped him. “I...”
“You can’t deny it. And you don’t have an answer.”
His expression went blank. “If you regret the pregnancy, perhaps you should simply turn custody of the child over to me.”
Everything inside of her screamed at the thought. “You misunderstand me,” she bit out. “I don’t regret having a child. I regret having your child. It would have been better for me to wait to get pregnant until I could find a man that I actually wanted to spend my life with.”
He took a step back, his eyes filled with rage. His face, normally so controlled, normally schooled into such a careful, neutral expression, telegraphed every bit of his anger. “Such a pity then that it is my child you carry. Dinner is served in an hour. If you do not join me you can starve.”
“Are you going to lock the kitchen?”
“I may yet. Do not test me, Tabitha, for you will not like the result.” He turned, walking out of the room, slamming the door hard behind him.
He had commanded that she not test him. And so that was exactly what she intended to do.
KAIROS COULD NOT fathom his own behavior. But then, he could not understand Tabitha’s either. He had given her more credit than this. Had chosen her to be his wife because she was smart, faithful, levelheaded. Because she had served him as his assistant for years and never given him reason to distrust her. During his engagement to Francesca he had thought he might forge something of an emotional connection with her. His trust had been misplaced. Francesca had betrayed him with Andres.
He owed Andres a fair amount of anger for that. Both of them, really. And yet, he had never been able to muster much of it up. He was only grateful he had discovered Francesca’s duplicity prior to making vows to her. And it had given him a chance to find someone better. To reevaluate what he expected out of marriage.
Women, it turned out, betrayed you eventually.
Well, you, specifically.
He took in a sharp breath, looking out through the living room at the terrace, at the table that was set with dinner for both of them. If she didn’t come down...
He was seized with an image of himself storming back upstairs, flinging the door open, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her down to the dinner table. Failing that, perhaps he would just throw her on the bed and finish what they had started earlier.
He gritted his teeth, battling against the erotic images that were battering against his mind’s eye. Threatening to shatter his control. He had already behaved appallingly where she was concerned, and he would not compound his sins.
Why not? She left you. The one thing she promised she would not do.
He hated this. This feeling of helplessness. She inspired it in him more often than any other human being on the planet. From the first day they had married. He had never felt any hint of awkwardness around her when she was his PA. And he’d been determined to hang on to that relationship. That meeting of the minds, the mutual understanding, that felt so right. It had made her the best assistant he’d ever had. By all rights, a nineteen-year-old from Middle America should never have been able to serve him the way that she had. And yet, for three years, she had been by far the most efficient and hard-working PA he’d ever had.
She’d transcended her circumstances and risen to the occasion. He imagined she would do that as a wife as well.
Though, it was disingenuous to pretend that all of the unforeseen issues fell on her shoulders. Their disastrous wedding night had been his fault.
* * *
He hadn’t satisfied her. He had hurt her. And with his actions, it felt as though he had built a wall between them. Yes, a certain amount of distance was desirable. He didn’t want to become emotionally entangled with her. Not with feelings that went beyond cordial affection.
But when they had entered her suite, and his lips had touched hers for the first time without an audience, something had shifted inside of him. The rock wall he had built up around his control was cracking, crumbling. He had felt...a deep ache that had transcended anything he could remember feeling in recent years. A desire for something that he couldn’t put a name to. Like seeing something familiar, shrouded in fog. Something that called to him, echoed inside of him, but that he couldn’t identify.
Frustrating. Terrifying.
He went into the bathroom, running some hot water. She would probably be sore. He had done his best to make it as painless as possible, since he had known it was her first time, but he knew he had failed, on more than one level.
She didn’t seem happy with him, when he ushered her into the bathroom.
He stood there, watching