Page 87 of The Devil's Deceit
She narrows her eyes. “Stop being soreasonable. God!”
“You want me to start an argument?”
“Yes. I want to be able to legitimately yell at you and not feel bad because you’re being all lovely and nice and trying to jolly me out of it, when all I want to do is punch you in the face and twist your balls until you pass out.”
“That sounds… not fun.” I press my palms to her cheeks and plant a hard kiss on her mouth. “Tell you what. I give you free rein to yell and curse and scream at me, and even punch me if it’ll make you feel better, but can we negotiate a stay of execution for the crown jewels?”
“You are entirely too reasonable and impossible to be horrible to.”
My smile’s crooked as I hitch a shoulder. “And you are fucking adorable.”And I love you.
For some reason, I keep the latter part to myself. I’m not sure she’s ready to hear it, and I’m worried I might scare her off, especially as her emotions are heightened, understandably,andshe’s in pain.
“Have you taken anything for the cramps?”
“No.” She half smiles. “I’m a hero.”
“Or a stubborn arse.” I get to my feet.
She snaps out a hand, grabbing me around the wrist. “Where are you going?”
“To run you a bath and get you some pain relief. Eat your snacks.” I unpeel her fingers and bring them to my lips, kissing the tips of each one.
She sighs and closes her eyes. “I don’t deserve kindness.”
It’s an odd thing for her to say, but I put it down to her discomfort. I brush my lips over her forehead, then leave her lying there and run the bath, adding plenty of bubbles and bath salts. Once it’s ready, I return to get Grace. She doesn’t argue when I scoop her up into my arms and carry her into the bathroom. I sit her on the edge of the bath, pour a glass of water, and tip two painkillers into her hand.
“What are these?”
“Paracetamol. Strong stuff. Not the weak as shit, over-the-counter kind. They’ll help with the cramps.”
She knocks them back and hands me the glass. I set it down, then strip out of my clothes and peel the dressing gown off her, hanging it on a hook on the back of the door. Taking her hand, I help her into the bath, then climb in behind her.
The contented sigh that spills out of her makes me feel like a fucking hero in my own story. She reaches behind herself and cups the back of my neck.
“Thank you, Christian. I don’t deserve you.”
First “I don’t deserve kindness,” and now “I don’t deserve you.” She deserves better than me, but as I don’t intend to ever let her go, I guess I’ll have to make my peace with that.
“The tablets will kick in soon.”
She murmurs something I don’t catch.
I gently rest one hand on her stomach and rub in clockwise circles. “I missed you these last few days.”
“And look at the reward you got when you came home.” She gives a small laugh.
“I’m your husband. It’s my job to be whatever you need.”
“Don’t be nice to me. Please. I’m begging you.”
I frown. “Why not?”
“Just… just don’t. I’m a terrible person.”
“I know terrible people, and trust me, you are the complete opposite of them. You’re everything that’s good in the world, Grace, and you’re mine.”
Her entire body stiffens. “There’s so much you don’t know.”
