Page 14 of Husband for the Holidays

“Are you ill? Pregnant?”

“What on earth do you think I’m doing with my life? No. I’ve been working two jobs. I was tired.” She looked to the door, thinking she’d have to go home in just her coat. It would look like the ultimate walk of shame, which it kind of was, but it was hardly the worst outfit on the subway on a Wednesday morning.

“I found an all-night boutique and had them deliver something closer to your size.” He bent and snagged a massive shopping bag from the floor. He plopped it on the bench at the foot of the bed.

“That—” She couldn’t really claim it wasn’t necessary, could she? “Thank you.”

“Come downstairs when you’re dressed.” He walked out, pulling the T-shirt over his head as he went.

She wavered briefly, then carried the oversized bag into the bathroom where she sifted through her options.

Drugs? Really? She was too broke to be anything but stone-cold sober.

She shook out a pair of jeans and looked at the selection of tops. There were a couple of plain T-shirts, a waffle-knit sweatshirt and a fuzzy blue cardigan along with fresh undies and bright pink socks.

The jeans were loose and she had to turn up the cuffs, but they were better than wearing anything of his. The layered tops hugged her comfortingly and the fuzzy cardigan was almost as snuggly as the robe had been.

Her hair was a disaster, given she’d slept on it wet before fully combing it out. It was flattened to one side and the part felt wrong, but she mostly wore it in a ponytail or a bun these days. Did the man own anything resembling a hair tie, though? Of course not.

She dampened her hair, combed it, then tucked it behind her ears and turned away in disgust.

When she got downstairs, Konstantin was speaking to a middle-aged woman who was setting two places on the end of the long dining table. The T-shirt shifted and hugged his muscled shoulders as he poured himself a coffee. His biceps bulged below the short sleeves. His feet were bare.

Eloise faltered, trying not to be mesmerized. She had only come this far to say goodbye, but the aroma of waffles and bacon and fresh coffee hit her nostrils, making her stomach cramp with hunger.

She hadn’t had a lot of time to sleep these days and even less for eating.

“You missed dinner. Sit,” Konstantin said, then dismissed his housekeeper with the news that, “We’ll be gone by nine. Come back then and close the apartment. I’ll email in the New Year to let you know when I’ll be back. Enjoy your vacation.”

“Thank you.” The woman nodded and sent a pleasant smile toward Eloise on her way through the door beside the pantry.

This was quite a feast to be thrown together at the last minute. His housekeeper must have known Konstantin was expecting company this morning.

Unjustified jealousy twinged through Eloise at the thought of him sharing his wide bed with Gemma Wilkinson, then coming down here to play footsie while they ate breakfast.

Konstantin held a chair to the right of his spot at the head of the table. “Tell me how you’ve come to this.”

The meal was too tempting. She sank into the chair and spooned berries from the different dishes onto her waffle, topped it with a drizzle of strawberry syrup, then added a dollop of whipped cream.

Konstantin sat and leaned to fill her cup with coffee, extending his tanned arm across her line of vision. How could the sight of an arm cause sizzling heat to climb from the pit of her belly up her lower back, across her chest and into her neck? It was ridiculous!

She slid a crispy morsel of waffle into her mouth, putting off answering because she felt so stupid about being here like this.

“Mmm...” The sweet flavors exploded on her tongue along with the burst of berries and the fluffy texture of the whipped cream. She closed her eyes to savor it.

When she opened her eyes, Konstantin was watching her intently. Her heart flip-flopped and a fresh blush flooded with a sting into her cheeks.

She forced herself to swallow, but where to start?

Maybe if she hadn’t been so entitled in the first place, taking food like this for granted? Maybe if she’d taken better care of herself and not been so oblivious and selfish?

Her descent into this predicament was intensely painful to look at and admit to, but at least he would understand how it started.

“Things were difficult after Ilias.” She cleared her throat with a sip of coffee. It was a dark roast, bitter and delicious and piping hot. “Mom has had a lot of loss in her life and losing people isn’t something anyone could get used to. She’s always been on the sensitive side, anyway. Emotionally, I mean. She feels things very deeply.”

She glanced up, not wanting him to think she was bad-mouthing her mother or judging Lilja. Her mother’s personality tended toward codependent. That was just reality.

He was listening intently. His condensed attention made her feel as though she had a lens on herself that amplified everything, making her ultra self-conscious.

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