“Around seven.” The back of his warm hand presses against my cool forehead, and my eyes close. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Not really,” I murmur. “I’ll be okay. I just needed to catch a few hours of sleep before I get on a red-eye tonight to deal with some asshole client in Seattle.”
“Seattle?” he questions, and I nod slowly. “When were you going to tell me about that?”
“Sorry” I murmur. “I just found out, and I promise I’d rather be anywhere but there. I’ll be back for court Friday. I promise.” I close my eyes and wince at a lovely little wave of dizziness.
“Hey...” His hand slides over my hair, and I whimper. “What’s going on, wife?”
“Flare-up,” I tell him. Something I wouldn’t normally share. I don’t like my weaknesses exploited, and this has always been a weakness. But I’m so tired and so weak right now.
“Look at me, Olivia.” His voice takes on an impressively commanding tone. One that unfortunately bounces around inside my head, but another day, another time, it would definitely dampen my panties. Another secret I’ll be taking to the grave. My eyes open and focus on his worried face. “Explain.”
“Relax, husband. I’m just anemic. I’m not dying before we get you custody of your daughter. I promise.”
“Don’t joke like that, Liv,” he snaps, and I feel unexpectedly guilty. “Can I get you anything?” He drags the tips of his fingers down my neck and over my pulse, like he’s checking to make sure I’m actually okay.
“Sorry. No. I don’t need anything. I have a prescription and take it faithfully. It’s just a flare-up. I’ll be fine. Stress is a bitch and plays hell on my body sometimes. Lucky me, now happens to be one of those times. I just needed a nap. I’ll feel better when I get up and moving.” I’d really rather not point out I just got over an especially heavy period that makes my flare-ups worse. “Now stop looking at me like that, please.”
“Like what? Like I’m worried about you? Sorry, can’t do that because I am,” he argues, but at least it’s softly.
“Well don’t. Worrying isn’t part of the deal, Adler.” I force myself up and curse when I have to brace myself against his arms because the room swims. “I don’t like you, and you don’t like me, remember?”
“Maybe we need to renegotiate our deal then, wife.”
I stare at him. At his eyes. His mouth. His jaw. At the stubble I want to run my tongue and teeth over. At the lips I can still feel against mine.
This is such a bad idea.
I drop the hold I have on his bicep and slowly reach for his face. My thumb running over that delicious stubble. “And what would be the new terms?”
Shit. I’m supposed to be stronger than this.
“You tell me, counselor.”
I don’t want to like the way he always leaves the ball in my court, but I do.
I like the control he gives me as if knowing I need it.
“Enemies with benefits?” I frame the question softly. “Nothing changes. You hate me, and I hate you. But there’sobviously something here we could...explorewhile we’re married.”
Okay, that wasn’t so bad.
“No,” Logan snaps softly, and my head spins.
“What?” Thunder booms outside, and I jump, hating that he sees that too.
“Admit you don’t hate me, Olivia.”
Oh damn. There goes that growly voice again. But even that voice can’t make me admit something that’s not true.
“Sorry, Adler. But I don’t lie.”
His thumb ghosts over my bottom lip until my tongue darts out to taste it. The breath he sucks in is everything until I lock eyes with his. His eyes are even more intense. “No, wife. Your body doesn’t lie. But you do. Admit you don’t hate me, and I’ll give us both what we want.”
The heat in the room skyrockets between us.
Holy hell.
