Page 69 of The Forgotten Wife

“I should’ve said something then,” she said, despair curling within her, “but I wasn’t sure if my mind was playing tricks on me.”

But now she knew it wasn’t.

Time to tell the whole truth.

Nick shudderedout a breath as he clawed a hand through his hair. “It’s fine, sweetheart, but I just need a minute.” He closed his eyes, cursed, fighting for control for a long moment. When he opened them, he touched her cheek. “Okay. Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t tell you the gory details of my last conversation with Mwana because I didn’t want you to get like this.”

“Unfortunately, with every revelation, I just grow hungrier with the need to put this bastard down,” he said, almost to himself. “To think he dared to try to mess with us, here, after what he did on Althea—” The ringing phone interrupted him.

He dropped his hand and cursed the damn phone.

Listening to the solicitous tones of the head chef asking if they were ready to order their afternoon meal, he suppressed ironic laughter. His life was being turned upside down every which way he looked, and he was being asked what he wanted to eat.

Looking over to where his wife stood rubbing her arms, he asked, “Are you ready for lunch?”

An expression crossed her face reflecting the turmoil he felt, but she nodded, “If you are. You can choose something for me.”

He reeled off her favourites to the chef and hung up. “The meal will be up in three quarters of an hour. Enough time to tell me about that last conversation?”

She took a deep breath, then relayed her last conversation with Charles Mwana in a rush of speech. He forced his clenched fists to relax.

“That’s it?”

She nodded. “Nick, just sit for a minute, please? You could also tell me you’re not mad at me,” she suggested with a smile once he was sitting across from her.

Nick’s heart thudded at the sight of her sexy dimples. He gathered her in his arms, her light flowery scent wrapping around his senses. He lowered his head and kissed her lush lips.

“I could get mad at you for endangering yourself, but you weren’t harmed, thank God. I need to remember that and be glad you’re safe and by my side. And frankly, I’m tired of talking. Right now I need to have you naked in my arms. It feels like a lifetime since I made love to you.” He needed to hold her close, to affirm life after having yet another confirmation rammed home of how close he’d come to losing her.

“We made love this morning, right before breakfast.”

“As I said, a lifetime.”

She returned his kiss, her slim body melting into his like it was made for him. Which it was…

“What about lunch?”

He groaned and glanced at his watch. “We have forty minutes. I guess I’ll have to settle for a quickie.”

He tugged her close and kissed her. Before mindless delirium took over, he swore to find the appropriate time to share the unfamiliar feelings threatening to take over his life. Maybe Belle could make sense of them, because he sure as hell couldn’t.

For now though, he’d tell her with his body.

CHAPTER 15

LONDON

Autumn helda firm grip on London, with golden rain-soaked leaves spread like an elegant blanket over the city. Belle pulled her coat more securely around her to ward off the morning chill after stepping from the car outside their Knightsbridge apartment.

Their departure from Athens had been so rushed, she hadn’t found time to pack suitable clothes. Nick had spent the time after lunch yesterday juggling endless phone calls, dealing with nervous shareholders and repercussions of the news of her capture. He’d stayed up long after she’d gone to bed, and she’d woken this morning to the news that they had to return to London. More shareholders to pacify.

There were also her parents to see. But first…

Looking up at the tall apartment building, her old insecurities returned. Even with the knowledge that Nick was willing to meet her halfway, ease up on his need to control her every move, and had already started to do so, it was still difficultbeing here. But when he took her arm and led her to the elevator, closely followed by their bodyguards, she didn’t protest.

She was actually relieved when his butler, Bertrand, threw open the door in welcome. Her relief turned to surprise when the short, normally staid Frenchman bent over her hand in gallant greeting.

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