Page 165 of The Wrong Husband
"It’s not." His features soften. "I didn’t mean to upset you further. You’ve been a trooper these last few weeks. You held your own. Didn’t break down. Kept yourself busy and useful at the hospital. You must have been beside yourself with worry, but you didn’t let it show. Didn’t let it get you down."
He smiles, a proud look in his eyes.
"I knew you were a determined girl, but I didn’t realize you’d grown into a woman to be admired."
My cheeks flush scarlet. To detract from that, I tip up my chin. "My brother, the grim, forbidding, bad-tempered chef, showering me with praise. If only the rest of your team could see you now."
"Better not tell them. It would only spoil my reputation." He grimaces. "Speaking of, I need to fly back to London. I’ve left my kitchen too long."
"I’m sure your kitchen is in safe hands. Didn’t you ask Harper to run it in your absence?"
"Exactly." His gaze grows thunderous. "There was no one else, so it had to be her." He curls his fingers into fists. "Trust me, if I had anyone else I could have asked to take over, I would have. But sadly, my sous-chef was the only one available. I’m not sure what state it’s going to be in when I get back."
My brother is demanding, but I’ve never seen him this agitated. "Is it the fact that you don’t trust her that's the issue, or is it her that’s bothering you?"
He looks at me like he has no idea what I’m talking about. Oh, well. This is something James and Harper have to sort out. And for the record, my money’s on Harper.
"Either way, I’m glad you made it back in one piece," he says.
"Thanks for coming, man, and for being there for Phe, and for supporting Quentin and Brody."
"Yep, you were there when we needed a safe pair of hands." Brody slaps James' back.
"You’re welcome." James walks over and kisses my forehead. "You take care of yourself, Sis. Get some rest, huh? And you—" He holds out a hand to Connor, who squeezes it. "I’m looking forward to seeing you at my restaurant for a celebratory wedding dinner, on me."
The food at James restaurant is pretty amazing, and except for the one time that Connor took me, I’ve never been, so I’m happy to go ahead.
"I’ll come on one condition," I say slyly.
"Uh-oh, why do I think I’m going to regret this already?" James asks mildly. "But go ahead." He jerks his chin at me. "What’s the condition?"
"You let Harper cook for us."
He seems taken aback, then nods. "Why not, eh?" A wicked gleam comes into his eyes before he schools his expression into a nonchalant one.
"Uh-oh, why do I think I’m going to regret this already?" I murmur.
Connor chuckles.
Brody laughs.
James merely shakes his head. "You better watch out, Davenport"—he smirks at Connor—"this one is going to be a handful."
"Why do you think I fell in love with her?" Connor kisses my forehead.
"On that note…" James steps back, spins around, and heads to the door. "See you back in London, folks."
He shuts the door after him.
"How long do I have to be here?" Connor turns to me.
"Until the doctors discharge you?"
"You’re enjoying having me helpless, at your mercy, aren’t you?" he asks silkily.
"You’re as helpless as an apex predator." I toss my head. "I conferred with the consultant in charge, and we feel you should be here for at least another twenty-four hours. Once your pain level reduces, and we’re satisfied with your progress, we’ll get you home, okay?"
"You should listen to her." Brody smiles widely. "I, for one, am enjoying seeing you being brought to heel."
