Page 14 of The Return of Her Billionaire Husband

‘What do you think I’m doing?’ He shrugged off his shirt and tossed it in the same direction as his tie. ‘I’m getting undressed.’

‘Can you do it in the bathroom?’ Her cheeks were a bright shade of pink and her eyes kept avoiding his. ‘And please wear boxers or something. And stay on that side of the bed.’

‘It’s a bit late to be shy, tesoro. I’m familiar with every inch of your body, as indeed you are with mine.’

She threw back the covers and dived for the bathrobe that was hanging over the back of another chair. He caught a tantalising glimpse of café-latte-coloured satin shortie pyjamas, one of the shoestring straps on the camisole top slipping off her shoulder to reveal the upper curve of her breast. She thrust her arms in the bathrobe’s sleeves and knotted the waist ties around her middle with unnecessary force, sending him a scalding glare. ‘Fine. Have it your way. You have the bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa.’ She began to stalk past him but he caught her wrist on the way and stalled her passage.

‘Don’t be so dramatic.’ He let her arm go, opening and closing his fingers to ease the tingling sensation touching her had produced. ‘I’m not going to force myself on you. You have the bed. I’ll take the sofa.’

She bit down on her lip and glanced towards the other section of the suite where the smallish sofa was situated. ‘You’re too tall for it. You won’t sleep a wink.’

He wasn’t going to sleep a wink anyway, not with her so temptingly close. Seeing her all sleep tousled with so much of her creamy skin on show was already stretching the limit of his self-control. ‘I’m sure we can manage to share a bed for two nights without crossing any boundaries.’

She fiddled with the waist ties of her bathrobe, her teeth still worrying her lip. ‘Okay. But you have to promise not to touch me.’

He placed his hand on his heart. ‘You have my solemn word.’

Juliette pursed her lips, her gaze searching his for a moment. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re laughing at me?’

He lowered his hand from his chest and dropped it back down by his side. ‘Believe me, cara. It’s been a long time since I laughed.’

Her eyes fell away from his and a shadow crossed her features. She turned back to the bed and climbed back under the covers, pulling them up to her chin and turning her back to him. ‘Goodnight.’

Joe’s gaze went to the box of sleep medication on her bedside table. He came over to her side of the bed and perched on the edge. ‘How long have you been taking those?’ He pointed to the medication sitting next to a glass of water.

Juliette turned over onto her back, her expression defensive. ‘I only use them when I can’t sleep.’

‘And how often is that?’

Her eyes shifted out of reach of his and her fingers began plucking at the hem of the sheet. ‘More often than not...’ Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

Joe stroked back a strand of hair from her forehead, his chest so tight he could barely inflate his lungs to breathe. Guilt rained down on him over how he had handled the last few months. She had suffered alone when he should have been by her side. He’d thought keeping his distance was what she wanted but it clearly hadn’t helped her through the grieving process. It certainly hadn’t helped him either. So many platitudes sprang to his lips—like the irritating comments other people had made to him.

Time is a great healer.

It will get easier.

You’ll be stronger for it.

Instead, he stayed silent.

Her shimmering gaze met his and his chest tightened another painful notch. ‘I can’t help blaming myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have flown home to England to visit my parents before they went on their trip. I didn’t need to go. I could have asked them to visit me instead.’

And why had she flown home to England? Because he’d been away on yet another work commitment, leaving her to fend for herself. If anyone was to blame, it was him. Joe took one of her hands and anchored it to his aching chest. ‘No. You mustn’t blame yourself.’ His voice was so rough it could have filed through metal. ‘You had a dream pregnancy up until then.’

Her mouth twisted. ‘You weren’t there for the first three months. It wasn’t such a dream pregnancy then. I was sick just about every day.’

Joe wished he had been there but she hadn’t told him until she was twelve weeks along. He laid her hand on his thigh, moving his thumb over the back of her hand in slow soothing strokes. ‘I was going to contact you so many times after we slept together that night.’

A frown creased her smooth brow. ‘Were you? You never told me that before.’

Joe gave a wry half-smile. ‘We hadn’t exchanged numbers but I managed to find your details online because of your publishing career. I thought of emailing you numerous times, suggesting we meet up for a drink or something.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘You were still getting over your ex. I didn’t think you were ready to move on.’

She lowered her gaze and slipped her hand out of his hold and grasped the edge of the bedcovers. ‘I think I was over Harvey as soon as he told me he was in love with Clara. But you would’ve only been offering a fling back then, not something lasting.’ She issued it as a statement rather than a question.

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