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It didn’t matter what she wanted. She rarely got what she wanted, but she’d long ago learned that if her husband was happy, then so was she. ‘I’ll be twenty minutes,’ she said quietly.
‘Good girl.’ Reaching for her hand, he lifted her arm to his mouth and kissed the fading bruise just past her elbow. She could see the despair in his eyes, as well as the anger. She’d been reckless with her well-being, and he still wasn’t happy about it. ‘I wish you’d stop being so damn clumsy, Katrina. You know how it upsets me. I hate seeing you injured like this.’
She dropped her eyes, ashamed. ‘I know. It was impulsive and stupid, I’m sorry.’ She certainly wouldn’t be pulling a stunt like that again. What was she thinking?
Jarrad gripped her jaw gently but firmly and directed her face up again so she faced him in the mirror. ‘You know how precious you are to me,’ he said softly, and she nodded, prompting a smile from him before his eyes dropped to her wrist again. He frowned. ‘Where’s your watch?’
His question had her feeling at her wrist. The diamond-encrusted platinum piece he’d bought her for their fifth wedding anniversary hadn’t been on her wrist since they’d left their home in Belgrade. She panicked. ‘I think I left it at home.’ She bit her lip nervously. ‘On the vanity unit in the en suite.’
‘You think?’
‘I’m certain.’ She corrected herself quickly.
‘We should call the housekeeper and have her check.’ He made to turn toward the bedroom to get his phone, and Katrina was quick to stop him. Jarrad stilled, and she smiled, small and apologetically. ‘I’m sure it’s there. Let’s not keep our guests waiting, darling.’
Jarrad relented easily, his wife’s soft smile melting him as it always did. ‘You’re right,’ he murmured, taking her in a hug. ‘It would be rude, forgive me.’
‘Nothing to forgive.’
‘Ever so thoughtful.’ Resting his lips in her hair, he breathed her in on a contented sigh. ‘You should wear long sleeves tonight,’ he said, stroking down her arm. ‘It’s chilly. And black, yes?’ Turning her back toward the mirror without waiting for her confirmation, Jarrad left Katrina to get ready for their sunset dinner.Chapter 10RYAN
I drive slowly up the high street away from her shop, completely lost in my thoughts. Unusually of late, though, my mind isn’t swirling with questions about Hannah, it’s spinning with questions I’m asking myself. Why did I do that? And how the hell did I keep myself from taking it further? I never knew I had it in me. Maybe it was because I know she’s had a lot to drink tonight. I hate the thought of her waking up feeling regretful or thinking I took advantage. Or maybe it’s because I’ve sensed she needs handling with care. Or maybe it’s a bit of both.
‘Fucking hell,’ I breathe, shifting in my seat, my head beginning to ache from the weight of my questions. ‘What have you gotten yourself into, Ryan?’ I indicate right when I approach the road that leads to my cabin. ‘And now you’re talking to yourself.’ Laughing under my breath, I take the turn, but something by the roadside catches my eye, and I pull to a stop. ‘What the hell?’
I leave the engine running and hop out, pacing a few yards into the overgrowth that’s lit by my headlights. I stare down at the wheel of a bike. A bike I recognize. On a frown, I pull the mangled thing from the bushes and look it over, before scanning the darkness around me. These woods are familiar to me. The sounds, the trees, every species of animal that lives here. The owl currently calling and the bats currently flapping through the air above me never usually cost me a thought. Yet tonight, they cause an odd lick of uneasiness to work its way down my spine.
Picking up Hannah’s bike by the crossbar, I back away, instinctively scanning the darkness as I head to my truck and load the bike in the back. When I slam the tailgate shut, the noise echoes, bouncing off the trees around me. ‘Kids,’ I say, getting back in my truck and continuing on my way to the cabin, my eyes watchful the rest of the way.
When I pull up outside, the detector lights spring on, basking my place in bright light. I jump out and put Hannah’s bike by the shed before making my way inside. The emptiness that hits me is palpable. No Cabbage.
I grab a beer from the fridge, kick off my boots, and flick on the lamp before I light the open fire and slump down in the armchair. My bottle rests on the chair’s arm, and I study the flames dancing before me. A woman has never had me in such a tangle. I want her. I can’t explain it, but it’s troubling, because I have a horrible feeling that Hannah isn’t available. Not just to me, but to any man. Though I would bet my life on the fact that no man wants her more than I do.
