Page 15 of The Forgotten Wife

He’d curbed his desire to invite her to join him. No, they had all the time in the world for that.

“All right, Just Belle. I’ll go. But only if you promise to be here when I get back.”

“I’ll do nothing of the sort. I don’t even know who you are. I’ve told you my name, but I don’t know yours.” The tilt returned and exposed her slender throat and the pulse beating there, which his fingers had itched to explore. He’d fought the urge and held out his hand instead.

“I’m Nikolaos Andreakos. You can call me Nick.”

She’d paused before placing her hand in his, and when she did, he knew why she’d hesitated. The sizzle that went up his arm at the touch of her warm skin had stunned him. The instant darkening of her eyes told him she’d experienced it, too.

From that moment, he’d been hooked.

And even after their problems began, he’d thought the bond between them couldn’t be broken.

How wrong he’d been!

The strong, courageous woman he’d believed he married had turned out to be a deserter, a woman capable of abandoning her marriage when the going got a little turbulent. He’d given her ample time to return, to realize the futility of trying to live without each other. What he should’ve done was followed his instincts and gone after her immediately.

He’d come too damned close to losing her.

But he was nothing if not determined when he wanted something.Orsomeone. And once he possessed what he wanted, he never let it go. He had given her enough space, and she’d gotten herself captured and almost killed in the process.The time had come to figuratively knock some sense into his wife.

With a grunt of firm intent, he gathered her closer, laid his head back against the side of the plane, and finally felt the adrenaline drain from his body.

The pressure of strong,protective arms around her brought Belle awake. For a moment, she remained disoriented. Then the aircraft dipped, and her stomach hollowed as memories flooded in. Nawaka…Mwana…the fireball in the cave… She jerked upright.

“Shhh,” Nick murmured in her ear. “Get ready,pethi mou. We’re about to land. You need to take a seat and put your seatbelt on.” His voice was a husky whisper, a vivid reminder her of how he sounded first thing in the morning. As a newlywed, she’d blissfully lapped up the enchanting endearments he’d showered on her, likepethi mou—my little one—orglikia mou—my sweetheart. He’d proven she was none of those things to him. She needed to remember that memories like those were dangerous to her peace of mind.

“Where are we?” she asked, trying to think through the sleepy fog and encroaching visions of the past.

“Morocco,” he replied, kissing her temple softly.

Averting her face to hide her body’s thrilled reaction at the touch of his lips, she murmured, “Okay.” She tried to pull away from his warmth, but her weakness prevented her from moving very far and stifled her protest as he carried her to a jump seat and buckled her in. Then, bunching up the blankets they’d used on the floor, he repositioned them so she could rest her ravaged feet on them.

He took the seat next to her and put his arm round her shoulders, his chin nuzzling the top of her head.

A few minutes later, the plane bounced once and settled on touch down.

Tears prickled her eyes, and she blinked them away.She was safe. They were all safe.

When the plane came to a halt, Nick gently removed his arm from around her.

“Stay here for a minute. I need to talk to Alex and the men before we leave.”

She nodded, too drained to wonder what he needed to speak to the men about. He returned a few minutes later and helped her up, just as two of the men came toward the door, carrying a pale Father Tom on a stretcher.

“There you are, lass. I told you we’d be saved, didn’t I?” He took her hand and held on tight.

“Yes, you did, Father, and you were right.” Tears gathered once more, and she swallowed them back.

“I’m always right, lass,” he responded, prompting choked laughter from her. “Ah, no need for tears now, lassie. You’re almost home.” His eyes went from hers to Nick’s, and his expression turned serious. “Take care of her, you hear?”

“I will.” Nick responded in a deep, resolute voice, and another shaft of pain speared through her. He’d said similar words on their wedding day, when he’d vowed to love and cherish her.

But he hadn’t. Instead he’d tried to control her, to mold her into something she’d hated. The realization that she would’ve given in had he given her what she wanted—children—shamed her.

She was stronger now. The scales had fallen from her eyes. There was no denying the skin-sizzling chemistry between them,but it would never be enough for her to give up what she’d fought so hard to achieve.

The scent of spices and incense hit her nostrils when she descended the cargo plane, evoking thoughts of warm, sultry nights and lazy meals taken in secluded Bedouin tents.

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