Page 110 of The Unwanted Wife

We did stay in bed all day. More precisely, I did. While he made sure I was hydrated by making first, tea and toast, and then, soup for me. And it didn’t come out of a can. He also didn’t order in. He used my food processor and insisted on making it from scratch. Is there anything hotter than watching your man cook for you? The bread, he picked up downstairs. But first, he insisted I call my employees and let them know I was taking a day off. Not that I needed much urging.

Not having him for almost a month, I was starved for his company. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. And god, I want him so much. He took off his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to show off those muscled forearms, and I swooned. And when he brought me breakfast in bed, I noticed he’d taken off his socks and shoes. Bare feet on this man were almost as sexy as seeing him naked. Almost.

I was so disappointed when he didn’t want to make love to me. So, when he filled the tub with hot water, carried me to the bathroom, then helped me peel off my sweat-dampened pajamas, I was sure he’d follow me in. But nope, that didn’t happen. He helped me into the tub, and when I tried to pull him in, he shook his head. He gently ran a washcloth over my shoulders, my chest, my back, without once looking at my boobs, or any other part of me. I was so disappointed. I tried to draw attention to my breasts, but he refused to look at them. He washed and conditioned my hair before rinsing it. He finished washing me, then pulled the plug on the bathtub.

He urged me to my feet, then wrapped a towel around me. He helped me out of the tub, proceeded to dry every inch of my body—yes, even between my legs. He patted my pussy dry, and little sparks of lust fanned to life under my skin. He ran the towel down my inner thigh, and a quiver surged up my back. And when he brushed the skin between my toes, those sparks of lust turned into a full-fledged inferno, which turned my insides to mush. When I swayed, he swept me up in his arms and asked me if I was okay.

I whined and told him I wasn’t because he wasn’t inside me. To which he laughed and said I needed to get better first. By then, I was feeling a little woozy, so I curled up into his chest. He carried me to bed, seated me in front of him, combed out my hair and blotted it dry. I leaned back into him and closed my eyes.

The next time I open them, it’s noon. I feel so much better. I glance across the expanse of the flat to see him cooking. As I pull on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, he turns and smiles at me. "How are you feeling now?"

"Pretty good."

He surveys my face, then nods. "You look much better." He gestures to the tiny kitchen table. "Have a seat."

“Gotta use the bathroom first.” I smile and head into the bathroom where I take care of business before rinsing off my face and quickly brushing my teeth. Exiting moments later, I cheerfully state, “Now, I feel better.”

He chuckles as I take my place at the table. He places a bowl of soup in front of me, and toasted bread next to it. "Eat." He slips into the chair next to mine.

"What about you?"

"If you eat, my hunger is assuaged."

"Aww." Warmth coils in my chest.

"It’s true." He spoons out some of the soup and holds it up to my mouth. I allow him to feed me a few mouthfuls. "I really think you can eat."

"I want to see you eat first."

"Please?" I curl my fingers around his wrist. "I am feeling much better, and I’ll enjoy this meal a lot more if you eat it with me."

He searches my features, then his lips quirk. "As you wish." He places the spoon in the bowl, gets up and serves himself.

"This soup is delicious." I butter some of the bread and pop it into my mouth.

"My mother’s recipe. She had her faults, but she was a big believer in the power of chicken soup. I have so many memories of her taking care of me and making me soup when I was unwell. Funny how your memories tend to focus on the good parts and forget the bad ones." He looks into his soup bowl with a contemplative expression in his eyes.

"Life is too short to dwell on what caused us pain. It’s so much healthier to forgive and move on."

"Have you forgiven me?" He looks up and into my face. "Can you forgive me, baby, for not telling you about Ben?"

I place my spoon back in my bowl and lean back. "I know you were doing what you thought was best, and you thought you were protecting me, but now that I know the truth, it almost feels like you were lying to me all that time. And that’s not a good feeling. I know what you did was to protect me, and I know I didn’t make it easy for you when you first came here to tell me… Of course I forgive you. But I’m not that eighteen-year-old girl you met anymore. I’ve grown up."

"No kidding," he murmurs.

"You know I have. And I’ve grown even more over the past year, as my subconscious was slowly coming to terms with the reality I didn’t want to face. The thing is, I can take care of myself. I admit my bakery business had a patchy start to it, but it’s doing well now, thanks to you."

"Don’t thank me. You made the decision to accept my proposal. You did what was needed to pull your business out of the red. The success is all yours."

"Thank you," I say softly.

His lips quirk. "You’re welcome."

I prop my elbow on the table and cradle my chin in my palm. "And thank you for taking care of me."

"It was my pleasure—not that you fell sick, obviously, but that I could be there for you. That’s all I want, Starling—to be with you. I spent my life looking for a purpose and now, I know what it is." He looks at me with so much emotion in his eyes. He’s normally such a grumphole, I wouldn’t have thought it possible that he could feel so much.

"It’s you, baby." He goes down on his knees and takes my hand in his. "Marrying you is the biggest achievement of my life. Being at your side is my privilege. Becoming your husband is everything I have ever wanted. Calling you my wife is my honor, and something I will never take for granted. I love you, Starling. I swore to protect you, cherish you, worship you with my body and soul, and I intend to never break those vows."

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