Page 50 of Defying Her Arrogant Boss

‘What?’ He couldn’t stop the wry grin. ‘About whether we can still sleep together?’

She nodded.

‘Lissa, I fully intend to have sex with my wife. Lots of sex.’ My wife. The words seemed to gum up his mouth and he froze. He let go of her hand to run his fingers through his hair and hoped his doubt was masked from her. He’d once told her he wouldn’t hurt her and he didn’t want to, but he couldn’t be sure he loved her. He couldn’t be sure he could cope with any of this.

‘I’ve an idea,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t think we should make any big decisions yet. Why don’t we just take it one day at a time?’

He blew out a huff of air in relief. He looked at her, wondering if she was as doubt plagued as him. Of course she was. They needed space to think, to see if there was another solution. One day at a time. Trouble was, there weren’t that many days left.

* * *

It should have been one of the most exciting weekends of her life. On a plane with a gang of friends from work, off to enjoy an all-expenses-paid weekend in a beautiful city with one of the most incredible buildings in the world to admire—and it housed great works of art. Bliss, right?

The nausea on the plane was only just manageable. She told the others she often suffered from air sickness and it enabled her to sneak to her hotel room early and not go clubbing with the rest of them. Despite the exhaustion she couldn’t sleep. The dilemma and doubts raced in her mind. And she missed Rory. Missed the warmth of him, the comfort in his arms despite the chasm that lay between them during the day.

She decided to forgo the shopping trip and head straight to the Guggenheim. Wanting to see it in the bright morning light as well as lit up at the function scheduled for that night.

She walked around marvelling at the curves, the genius melding of glass, stone and titanium. Her digital camera hung uselessly from her wrist; pointless even trying to capture the magnificence and complexity in thirty-five millimetres. As she stared up at the skyline her vision began to wobble. She blinked rapidly to clear it but the dizziness only increased, and then the pain came, knifing into her, and as the blackness swallowed her sight, she could only call for one thing. Rory.

* * *

It was the longest five hours of his life. He wished he could break into the pilots’ cabin and demand they put their foot down, or make the wind blow them there faster or something, anything.

He’d never forget that phone call. The terror, the difficulty in getting air to his lungs. The shock at the realisation that he’d been on the verge of losing the most precious thing in his life.

They’d told him he didn’t need to fly over, that they’d get her home okay. But that wasn’t okay for him. He needed to see her, needed to be with her, neededherfull stop. Nothing else mattered.

In the end the woman next to him insisted he take the aisle seat—she obviously couldn’t cope with his fidgeting. He went and stood by the emergency exit, pacing in two square feet for the rest of the flight.

He’d so nearly stuffed up. He’d been umming and ahhing when he should have been moving heaven and earth to ensure he got what he wanted.

Lissa. Whole, healthy, his.

How could he have been so uncertain? He couldn’t believe it had taken this to make him understand what he wanted. He’d been increasingly anxious; the panic over her looming departure and their situation had rendered him unable to think, unable to see his way through. Now it all came with brilliant clarity. He had been such an idiot. He’d just had the biggest fright of his life and he wasn’t chancing it happening again.

She lay on the hotel bed, pale but calm. He fought to maintain an equally calm exterior, but his insides churned.

‘It’s okay Rory. I’m okay.’

He’d obviously failed to hide his alarm. ‘You don’t look okay.’

‘Just tired, that’s all. The doctor said I have to take it easy.’

He knew this. He’d spoken to the doctor just before entering her room. She was exhausted, her body firing a warning shot. Telling her she needed to take things easy. Minimum stress, maximum TLC and she and the babies would be just fine. He nearly maxed out with guilt. The sense of responsibility was huge, and his need to protect her primal.

There was only one way he could ensure it. His gut had spoken for him when he’d first found out she was pregnant. The solution simple. But his brain had interfered and pulled him back, letting doubt in instead of going with the base emotion. Love.

Now he needed to convince her it was the only thing to do. Marriage, a.s.a.p. And the way to get her to agree was by using the babies and her looming departure as the bargaining chips. He’d make her see the sense of it. He needed to make it okay. It was a huge step, but it was the only one they had. The only one he finally realised he wanted to take.

She looked away from him, out the tiny plane window from which nothing could be seen but the dark night sky. Her pale face was reflected and, despite her physical weakness, he read the determination there.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about the pregnancy, but I promise I was going to. I just didn’t know when or how. I was scared.’

‘Scared of what?’ He studied her. Her cheeks were rosier now and she still wouldn’t meet his eye. ‘What did you think I’d do?’

His heart sank. ‘You thought I’d walk away, didn’t you? That I’d abandon you.’

She looked around at that and made to speak, but he waved her silent. He could read the look in her eyes and knew she had doubted him. ‘When have I ever given you reason not to trust me?’

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