Page 14 of The Reason for His Wife's Return

“‘My husband is not at his best and needs his rest...’”Aristos parroted in a mocking voice. “That sounds like some awful poem that rhymes.”

Mira turned to look at him and her breath fled her body afresh for more than one reason. His thin and yet wide lower lip was split right down the middle. There was a yellowing bruise covering his entire right cheekbone and there were stitches that hadn’t yet healed beginning at the middle of his left eyebrow and inching up into his forehead.

And these, she knew, were only the cosmetic ones.

Still, none of them even remotely minimized the appeal of the man. Which confirmed something Mira had always known. His stunning good looks were only the smallest part of what made Aristos so dynamic, such a deeply dominant presence in any room or crowd.

Even now, his eyes danced with unholy delight as she studied him with a desperate greed she couldn’t deny. She shied her gaze away from the shadow of bruises at the V of his loose, long-sleeved gray T-shirt, which was clearly camouflage.

“I’m wondering if I should apologize,” she asked, uncaring that the ridiculous question undid her assertive declaration. As long as it gave her emotions time to find steady ground.

“Why?”

“It’s your office, a professional environment. Not the local fish market. I had no right to barge in here and definitely had no right to act like I...like some jealous, overeager wife keeping an eye on her schmuck husband.”

“Ah... But you are my wife, Mira and I would say you have some right to assert yourself over me, whichever way you want, schmuck or not.”

Assert herself over him...How did he make the most innocuous of statements sound like the most delicious lure, Mira would never know.

“Only some?” she said, humor at his made-up words washing away some of the fear that had gripped her all through the flight. He looked battered and bruised and she still had to look at his reports to know the exact detail of his injuries. Outwardly, he definitely looked damaged. But...seeing him in the flesh, teasing and taunting her like three months hadn’t passed, the roller coaster of emotions with her hormones in the driving seat came to a temporary pause.

How she wished she could talk to Nanamma right now, about her fears about the pregnancy, about how irrationally upset she kept getting over things that had never bothered her before. About how much she yearned to share the abundance of her joy with Aristos and have him reciprocate it fully. But she wasn’t here now and when she had been, Mira had held her cards too close to her heart. Even convinced herself her heart didn’t feel much to begin with.

Her sisters would definitely share her joy, shout it out from the rooftops, she knew. But it wasn’t right to tell them before she told Aristos.

Which should be any moment now. Only that seeing him hurt...was doing a number on her. Her chest felt like a dangerously inflating balloon that might pop as she thought of what his reaction might be.

What if he’d changed his mind about being a father? What if he wasn’t happy about the news? What if...

“Only some—the basic minimum—are granted by the contract,” he said, hooded gaze watching her. Assessing her. “The rest have to be earned.”

She raised a brow. “By being your biddable, caring wife?”

“By cohabiting with me under the same roof. In the same bed, more importantly.”

She laughed then, tears pooling in her eyes, and only some of it was due to humor. Relief coursed through her in waves, making her suddenly cold. Turning her face away from Aristos, she made a show of searching for a cardigan in her large handbag.

A sweatshirt fell into a perfect drape over her shoulders. Mira took a deep breath, the scent of ocean surrounding her in comfort. “You are not okay, Dr. Carides,” came his even-toned statement.

It drove tears into her throat, that casual way he smothered the concern. “I really don’t like being addressed as such.”

“But you’re a real doctor about to specialize in palliative care, are you not?”

“Of course I’m a real doctor.” How did he know what she’d wanted to specialize in? Was Aristos privy to everything in her personal life? “I meant that you can’t call me Dr. Carides. I worked damned hard to get my degree and it is Dr. Reddy.”

“I’m too much of a feminist to deny your right to decide that,” he said with such genuine sincerity that Mira felt the overwhelming urge to grab his battered face and kiss the hell out of it. He raised a finger in that dramatic way of his, energy radiating from him even in his exhausted state. “But I would also like to point out that I too have made a big sacrifice—unwilling at best and screaming denial at worst—in you attaining that damned degree,thee mou. I demand and deserve at least a little credit.”

Her mouth falling open, Mira stared at him. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Had her bald-faced lie that her career and her calling were more important than getting married—the reason she’d given for breaking their engagement—still carry weight with him? “You’re mad.”

“Some call it genius.”

Challenge glinted in his eyes.

Take the bait, they said.Take me on.

Pressing her palm against her belly, she shied away from it.

His low, humorless laugh mocked her.

---