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“Don’t mind me.” His hands in his coat pockets. “I spent part of the time reading the papers.”
“Yes.” She looked at him with a glint in her eyes that reminded him of their encounter last night. “I just need some of the bookkeeping. I’ll leave directly.” A blush and lowered lashes told him the same crossed her mind.
Was it too early to call it a day? He wondered, as his groins stirred with her mere presence.
The study occupied a good portion of the ground floor. Even being spacy, it felt crammed to her. His presence washed her with giddiness and yearning. Too intimate for her peace of mind. Or body. The scenes of the last nights sprang to her memory, heating her impudently. To break the spell, she hurried to the bookshelf to pluck out what she needed.
“Coleman acts very… familiar with you.” She heard him, his tone picking at her.
She turned to him, a quizzical expression on her face.
“I watched your exchange with him from here just now.” He leaned on the desk, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest; his dark eyes fast on her.
It sounded like an accusation, which vexed her rather intensely. “What is it?” She would not lower herself to the point of justifying her actions under unfounded accusations.
“Nothing much.” He shrugged nonchalant. “I simply wondered if he tried to flirt with you.”
“What if he did?” She lifted her chin defiant.
“I would have to call him out.” His voice deceptively calm.
Her rosewood eyes squinted with irritation. “Call him out?” Her jaw set. “What kind of nonsense is this?”
“I am your husband, as you well remember. I must defend your honour.”
Rage blew out of her like a volcano. “You were not a husband to me for five years!” She shouted, pointing her finger to him. “You have no right to accuse me of this and claim such stupidity!”
“Well, did he or did he not flirt with you?” He pushed from the desk, legs apart, domineering.
At the him, she did not know if she wanted to slap him or use him.
“He did not!” Her fists on her narrow waist. “Where did you get this lunatic idea?”
His lopsided smirk sardonic. “You really don’t know how men covet you, do you?”
“I don’t care about what goes in their head.” She waved her hand at him. “And I don’t care what you think!”
“But I do!” He stated stonily. “I won’t share my wife with anyone!”
She paced the worn out carpet like a jailed wolf. “Your attitude is absolutely ludicrous!” She threw at him.
“Maybe, but I wanted to be sure.” He eyed her intently.
She ogled him raw, crossing her arms. “I have fended for myself for five years. I don’t need and I don’t want your interference!” She paused, and they measured each other as if they were in a fighting ring. “Leave me alone!”
Her anger heated him to red-hot levels. The urge to near her, grab the curvaceous body and take her to bed almost unsurmountable. He merely looked at her hungrily, forgetting to produce an answer.
She walked to the door without waiting for a reply and grabbed the doorknob. “Oh, by the way.” She half turned to him. “Remember not to use the connecting door.” She left, the door flying behind her.
Strategic error, soldier!
Conrad conceived himself as the most asinine creature in the entire world. He let jealousy lead him and he put his foot in it. Until now, he had managed a precarious truce between them, even if she remained aloof. He had gained ground in the process. Enjoyable ground, by the way.
With all that, she did not show to be any closer to forgetting anything she had gone through, it seemed. His clumsy jealousy only made it surface again, when, in fact, he wanted it to fade away. He wanted it put under a balm and cured. His self-loathing went sky-high every time he saw her like this. Guilt ripped him, mixed with a strong wish to be able to go back in time and start anew. Impossible, naturally, as he tried to atone for it now. With little success, he had to admit.
Back to square one, you fool! He concluded mercilessly.
His temper did not help at all. He must cram it under tight reigns or live to regret even more. The problem being how. She unearthed in him strong feelings of diverse kinds. He had been struggling with them since he arrived. No. Since he left, to be sure. The hammering of his mistakes, the memories of her and three years of her steady, levelled presence in his manor came to him. As a tidal wave for the whole of his permanence in India. To return had not been a conscious decision. It felt more like a… calling. His commission sold, heading home had been something he just did without much rational thought. Definitely not a mistake, rather the most difficult mission life had assigned him.
