Page 12 of The Reason for His Wife's Return

He grinned, wanting her to see his pleasure at her arrival, gave her another lengthy, shameless perusal, wanting her to know where his mind immediately went. Wanting to rile her up. Even though grinning at his wife like a lecherous creep in the middle of a staff meeting meant the muscles in his jaw pulled up and his cheekbone hurt like hell.

Even across the distance that separated them, he could see the flare of awareness in her eyes, the subtle defensive stance she took as if she could hide her response to him. Like clockwork, anger followed. Along with a glimmer of wetness in her eyes that made his hackles rise. She blinked and then glared at him again, making him wonder if the painkillers were making him loopy.

Like insects beginning to buzz, whispers started around them. His staff was clearly reaching the obvious conclusion about her. No one—man or woman—would dare to interrupt one of his strategy meetings. And of course, having never laid eyes on his mysterious, “boring” wife ever, they were lapping it up as if they were at the first showing of a successful drama.

“Welcome to my office, Dr. Carides.”

“I’m disappointed, Aristos,” she said in that crystal-clear voice of hers that rang like a bell, her chin lifted with that belligerence that equally disconcerted and excited him.

Everyone and everything fell silent again.

“And why is that,thee mou?” he said, just as loudly, pouring all the charm he had into the words, making them thrum with the pleasant tension in his muscles that wasn’t from the painkillers.

If she wanted a public argument, who was he to deny her? Who was he to stop the media from reporting tomorrow that Aristos Carides’s darling American wife had stormed back into his life in the most magnificent way possible?

“All through the flight, I had these elaborate dreams of being carried over the threshold in your strong arms in a grand gesture of loving welcome.” Her voice barely dipped in tone but her hard swallow belied her composure. “Only to find you can barely move.”

The simpering, pouting tone of her voice sent a fresh wave of shock through him.

Aristos reached for one of his crutches leaning against the desk, hiding his confusion about her state of mind under a smile. “Your wish is my command, Dr. Carides. All you had to do, ever, was ask.” The tendons in his forearms bulged as he tried to push himself up and sweat pooled at his neck and under his arms.

Of course, his dear wife had to pick this precise time to show up in his life.

Mira was at his side in the next blink, looming over his chair, her face wreathed in blazing anger. “Stop it,” she said, slapping him lightly on his wrist, as if he were a recalcitrant child. “Stella told me about your accident, that your injuries are bad.”

Out of the periphery of his sweat-clogged vision, Aristos noticed that his PA, Elena, had also rushed to his side, almost mirroring Mira’s stance.

“I didn’t know you were into rougher stuff,” he whispered, shielding Mira from curious eyes with his shoulders, defaulting to mocking her.

Streaks of pink appeared on her already flushed cheeks. When he didn’t relent, she muttered, “I should’ve known better than to challenge you.”

Aristos grinned up at her. He hated losing in life, in any way or form. Especially to her. Keeping the smile on his face took all the energy he had.

She sighed. “Please, Aristos. I was only kidding. Don’t...hurt yourself further.”

He sat back and took her in—the folded arms and the unusual concern glinting in those eyes. “I had all kinds of dreams too, you know, about how I would welcome you,” he said, following the sudden impulse to shake her dark mood off. He’d not foreseen the frustration his injuries would cause when he was around her. “That is, when I could convince myself that you would come back without further...persuasion from me.”

“Bypersuasion, you meancoercion.”

“All’s fair in marriage and war,” he retorted, his voice taking on an edge.

“As you can see, I’m here. So neither is required,” she said softly.

“You took your sweet time getting here,yineka mou,” he said, twisting his mouth into a mock pout.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were...” She bit her lip and he could almost see her grapple for control. “If I had known how seriously you were injured...”

Again, she stopped herself, casting an eye around their intent audience.

Aristos watched her, willing himself to be still, as her gaze rounded the vast conference table. Her blandly polite smile went into icy territory when it lingered on Elena for just a nanosecond longer before moving on and rounding back to him.

Realization pressed on him, the sensation akin to when he’d been wedged under a flaming piece of metal during the accident.

His suspicion had been right.

It was Elena she thought he’d cheated on her with.

Instantly, he remembered the rainy evening when Elena had, out of nowhere, made her feelings known to him in an aggressive manner he’d never seen from her. It was one of the few times shock had frozen Aristos into inaction. His fast reaction times and his ability to foresee everything coming at him were the reasons he hadn’t ended up dead so many times. And yet, he had been thrown for a loop at Elena’s actions. So much so that it had taken him several seconds, maybe even minutes, to untangle himself from her untenable, cloying embrace.

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