Page 72 of Landen

“Ronald isfreaking out and wants to know when I’ll be back.” Shetold him.

“I have notdecided yet; you might not be working at the gallery anymore.”

“Now listen-”

“We can discusswhat you will be doing later.” He told her firmly. She thenrealized that it was no use arguing with him.

He was like abulldozer, mowing down everything in its path. The night before sheleft, she had dinner with her siblings, who offered no objections toher leaving. She had spent a week in the hospital and barely put ontwo pounds.

“The trip willdo you good,” Karen said as she tried to keep her anxiety fromshowing. Her sister had been wheeled out of the hospital in awheelchair, and even when she was getting up, it had taken her awhile to do so.

Landen had solved theproblem by scooping her into his arms and putting her inside the car.

The awful nausea wasnot plaguing her as much, but there were still episodes that left herweak.

“Your man saidit’s a peaceful cottage in the country area of Scotland, whichshould give you time to recuperate,” Brian added. “Whennext we see you, we want you to look much better than you looknow.”

The flight was alittle over eight hours, and during that time, he had insisted shespend it in the elegantly appointed cream and gold bedroom. As soonas she woke up after sleeping for three hours straight, supper hadbeen brought in for her.

“Where is Mr.Chapman?” She inquired of the chicly dressed woman as sheuncovered the meal of creamy potatoes and chicken swimming in afragrant sauce.

“He is on aconference call at the moment.” The woman told her with asmile. “He said to tell you he will be joining youmomentarily.”

Giving the woman afleeting smile, Tessa wondered if he was avoiding her. They barelyspoke two words on their way to the airport, and as soon as theyboarded the plane, he insisted that she get some sleep.

“It’s along flight, and I don’t want you getting exhausted.”

He had also spent thenight at his apartment, away from her, and had arrived in a car topick her up early that morning.

Things had changedbetween them. Gone was the teasing and recklessly charming man shehad known, replaced by a more somber and broodingly silentindividual. She had a feeling that he was still upset that she hadnot contacted him about the pregnancy and his mother coming to seeher.

She had seen himstaring at her at intervals, with a slight frown on his brow, and shecould not help but wonder if he regretted his involvement with her.She had looked in the mirror this morning, and what she had seen madeher want to weep.

She was not usuallyvain about her looks, but the bones were too pronounced, and shelooked like a slight wind would blow her away.

Her stomach was stillraw, and the doctors had advised her to eat small portions during theday to build her appetite back up. She wanted to put the weight backon, not just for her sake but also for the baby she was carrying.

She was putting somepotatoes in her mouth when he entered the room.

“Did you sleepwell?” Even his voice was formal.

“I did.”

“And you areeating. Good.” Instead of coming to sit next to her on the bed,he took one of the comfortably padded chairs in the corner. Proppinghis ankle on his knee, he stared at her. “You lookrefreshed.”

“I feelrefreshed. Have you eaten?”

“I had a cornedbeef sandwich and a glass of wine.” he glanced at his watch.“We still have approximately four hours to go before wearrive.”

Her stomach revolted,and she realized she might have overeaten. Pushing away the tray, shepicked up the glass of fruit punch and took a sip.

“Why are youtaking me to Scotland?”

“Pardon?”

“Ever since youcame back, I feel we are strangers. You barely look at me-”

“I am lookingat you now.”

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