Page 42 of The Maid Married To The Billionaire

‘They want to check over the car. The arson at the factory has made them suspicious. It should have been me in that car,’ he breathed tautly. ‘I wish it had been.’

‘Well, I don’t. I’m grateful that you’re all in one piece. Matteo did a great job coming down that hill. And amazingly, he stayed calm.’

‘He was a special ops soldier when he was younger.’

‘I’m sorry... I’ve messed up your whole day,’ Skye murmured.

‘Is that a joke?’ Enzo asked tightly.

‘No, of course it’s not a joke. I know how busy you are right now. The last thing you needed was a—’

‘A dead wife?’ Enzo sliced in rawly. ‘And it could have beenallof you in that car!’

‘Thankfully, it wasn’t.’

‘When I saw you lying there, I realised something very important. I almost lost you. The shock was good for me.’ Enzo paced restively at the foot of the bed, his bronzed profile tense. ‘We need to have a serious talk tomorrow.’

Skye swallowed thickly. ‘About what?’

‘About us...this marriage.’ Enzo made a slashing motion with one lean hand in a gesture of frustration. A chilling quiver of alarm ran down her taut spine. ‘I’ve made a hash of it and now I’m probably going to make an even bigger hash by breaking the rules...but this is not the moment to discuss all that.’

Rules? What rules? He insisted on staying with her and, try though she did to remain awake, she drifted off to sleep, only opening her eyes when a nurse came to do checks on her again and offer her something to eat.

‘Go home, Enzo,’ she urged then. ‘You look exhausted. Have you even eaten since this morning?’

‘I bought snacks in the cafeteria for Brodie and Alana.’

Her heart melted inside her chest because she was willing to bet that he had seen to everyone else’s needs before his own. She knew how her self-proclaimed spoilt, selfish playboy operated and he was exactly the opposite of what he said he was. Her eyes stung like mad and she wanted to slap herself for getting so sentimental and overwhelmed by her emotions, but she couldn’t help it when she loved him so much. And what did he intend to discuss about their marriage?Hehad broken the rules?Whatrules? Had he worked out that they had grown too close to easily separate? Did he feel the need to remind her that they were still on the road to an eventual divorce? Or, even worse, had she betrayed the strength of her own feelings?

‘Why are you crying?’ Enzo sprang out of his seat and settled down on the side of the bed.

‘I’m not crying. I think it’s just the aftermath of the accident, a bit of shock or whatever,’ she framed jerkily. ‘Just ignore me.’

A blunt forefinger traced the path of a tear down her cheek. ‘I’ve never been able to ignore you. I did try at the beginning before I got in too deep.’

‘Too deep?’

‘We’re not about to discuss that now. You’re not fit,’ Enzo asserted, vaulting upright again, glittering night-dark eyes locked to her troubled face. ‘Get a good night’s sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.’

‘If you’re planning to ditch me, do it now. I’m not that fragile!’ Skye declared, squaring her slight shoulders.

Enzo surveyed her in wonderment. ‘Why would I ditch you? You’re my wife.’ Revealingly, he hesitated for a moment before grudgingly adding the qualifier, ‘Sort of my wife.’

‘A sort of a wife isn’t a real wife and we both know that,’ Skye told him flatly, crushing down the jolt of pain that had pierced her when he’d chosen to be precise enough to make that distinction.

Enzo gave her an intense appraisal, something of his inner turmoil etched in his rigid features and the unalloyed darkness of his gaze. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow.’

He felt guilty about wanting out of their marriage, she thought wretchedly. He was afraid of hurting or upsetting her and was determined not to do so when she was in a hospital bed, banged up from an accident. Or maybe he was planning to return sooner to Italy and was worried about how that would affect her adoption plans for Brodie and Shona. Could his attitude to her change so quickly? Enzo wasn’t moody but he was volatile. He wasn’t used to restrictions either, she acknowledged ruefully, and there were few living situations more restricted than that of a married man with young children. Well, whatever his decision, she would take it on the chin and stay strong.

The next day, when she was being discharged, Skye dressed with care in the clothes that she had specified by text that Enzo bring with him when he collected her. Only her hand emerged from behind the bathroom door to reach for the bag.

‘You don’t need to bother with make-up,’ Enzo told her from his side of the door.

Oh, yes, I do.She had been horrified by the reflection that had met her in the mirror first thing. Her hair was a birds’ nest and her face was puffy, her eyes pink. She looked awful and thought it would hardly be surprising if Enzo had looked at her the night before and wondered what he was doing with her. Dressed, with her hair tamed and a little cosmetic magic applied, she at least looked presentable.

‘I just want to get you home,’ Enzo told her, tucking her with care into a brand-new SUV. ‘I think you should go straight to bed.’

‘I’m already fed up with lying in bed. I’m not dizzy or sick any more. Whatever you’ve got to say to me, just get it over with,’ she urged tightly.

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