Page 30 of The Forgotten Wife

“I know you have my back. I just wanted you to know where I am so you wouldn’t worry when you called Nawaka on Monday.”

She hung up shortly after, promising to call again soon. But the unease didn’t leave her as she set the phone down on the table next to the poolside lounger and picked up the book she hoped would distract her from her chaotic thoughts.

“Are you all right, Tinkerbelle?” The throaty voice sounded somewhere close to her left shoulder, and she immediately wenton the offensive, fighting to dispel the unwanted rush of pleasure she experienced every time Nick came close.

“I’ve told you not to call me that, goodness knows how many times. Why won’t you listen?” she snapped. She lowered the book, her annoyance escalated both by the interruption of her reading and her shortened breath with every step he took closer to her.

“I use your full name because I know no matter how much you protest to the contrary, you like it.” His words tumbled lazily into the dappled sunlight, like pearls dropping onto smooth silk.

Her very brief idyll shattered, she grew painfully aware of her near-naked state in the minuscule white bikini she wore. She pulled up her legs against her torso to hide the telltale peaking of her nipples. She speared him an accusatory look, which he ignored. With easy grace, he lowered himself onto the poolside lounger next to hers.

Thinking he’d be closeted in his study as he had been most afternoons for the past five days, she’d decided to spend the afternoon relaxing by the pool. Now she wished she’d stayed indoors, fully clothed and immune to the arousal he inspired.

She watched him lean back, cross his ankles, and tilt his face to the warming sun. He was dressed in casual khaki shorts and a white T-shirt, and her mouth went dry at the gorgeous display of hair-dusted thighs, calves, and arms. She shifted to ease the disconcerting tingling between her thighs and looked away.

“Well, you’re wrong, and I’d thank you to remember my name is Belle, not…not?—”

He breathed in deeply, his eyes glinting at her. “Tinkerbelle? And what about you,hmm? Do you remember your other names? In particular your married name? Or did you decide to forget all about it while you were embarking on your suicide mission in Africa?” Gone was the husky laziness his tone. In its place came a note of barely repressed anger as his legs swung offthe lounger. He turned to face her, muscled arms resting on his knees.

She stopped herself from drawing back from the fierce light in his eyes. “Yep, that was my aim. To go where I was wanted and valued and forget I was ever foolish enough to take the Andreakos name!” Self-protection made her wrap her hands around her legs as she tried to ward off the pain that flooded her insides.

“Watch your tongue,eros mou.” The frosty warning dripped into her thoughts, and she blinked to find Nick regarding her with eyes the colour of polished gunmetal. She ignored his advice, her angry focus on the one painful, mocking word.

“Don’t call me that! I was never yourlove, you bastard, nor am I now.”

He frowned. “It’s just a harmless term, baby. Calm down.” His response only served to anger her further. “Of course it is. Because you never loved me enough to mean it.”

Tension snapped in the air. The skin around his lips whitened as he pressed his lips firmly together.

“We agreed we wouldn’t do this. Not while you’re still recovering. And I won’t tolerate slurs from you,” he continued, although a peculiar look flitted through his eyes. “As to taking my name, you did it of your own free will. You don’t get to regret it because things are tough between us.”

She gasped. “Don’t you dare say that to me.Iwasn’t the one who threw our marriage away, Nick.”

“I won’t be drawn into another fight, baby. For one thing, the doctor told you to take it easy. And you’re far from fit enough to take me on. So don’t even try.”

He traced a fading bruise on her thigh, and her senses went into immediate overdrive.

She jerked away, curling her legs to hide the bruise. “Don’t touch me!”

His lips formed a thin line and he stood. “Fine. Have it your way.”

A harsh laugh scraped her throat. “If only having my way was as easy as that.”

“Explain.”

She glared up at him, unable to stem the tide of pain coursing through her. “You know the one thing I crave more than anything,

Nick. The one thing you’ve never wanted to talk about.” He paled and his face froze into a blank mask. “Belle?—”

“Don’t bother. I know how this goes. I mentionchildren,and you shut down. Go on, walk away. Far be it for me to throw a wrench in ourtruce.”

A very pithy Greek curse ripped through the air. “I came out here to tell you what’s happening on Friday, not to get drawn into an argument.”

She swallowed hard and tried to find some semblance of peace amidst the warring emotions coursing through her heart. “So tell me. What’s happening?”

Her flippant tone made his frown deepen but he took a breath and shoved his hands into his pockets. “There’s a newspaper guy sniffing around for a story. I’ve invited him over for a meeting.”

Surprise made her stare blankly for a moment. “You’re obliging areporter? You normally avoid them like the plague.”

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