Page 54
“But you’ve been running and had nothing so far.”
“I’m fine. I told you that,” he snaps.
This is not like him at all. Worry is beating a drum in my head, but I don’t snap back at him. Instead, I say in a coaxing voice, “Maybe have a piece of toast, then. Something to mop up the tablets.”
He hesitates and then nods. “I think I’ll lie down on the sofa.”
“Okay. Good idea. I’ll bring it in.”
He disappears into the lounge, and I stare after him, watching the empty doorway, my forehead creased in concern. Then I hasten to make his toast.
When I carry it through, I find him lying on the sofa, his head cushioned by a pillow and the throw pulled over him.
“Here you are,” I say, pulling a side table close so he can reach the food easily. “Would you like a hot chocolate or something?”
“What a very attentive husband you are.”
I go completely still. What is going on here? Levi never sounds like this, so snide and sneery.
He meets my eyes and smiles. I can’t judge its sincerity. Maybe I’m being too sensitive. He’s tired and he has a headache, after all. “You like me attentive,” I remind him.
“Do I?”
“Well, I’ve always thought so.” I stare at him. “Apparently, you don’t like it today, though.”
His eyes gleam strangely and then he inclines his head in a courtly gesture, pulling the plate towards him. “Thank you for my food.” There’s a clear dismissal in his voice.
I feel my cheeks flush with startled embarrassment. When I meet his eyes, I think he looks almost happy at my discomfort, and then his lashes come down, hiding his expression.
I clear my throat. “Well, eat your breakfast. Then we can decide what to do with the morning before I start my shift at the factory,” I say lightly. “Going down the mines might be easier than this job is going to be.”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t you remember? We have the mornings to ourselves. It’s the deal I made with Branok.”
I’m watching him intently, and I know him very well. So I notice as his body stiffens and how he shudders slightly before relaxing again. “Oh yes, the deal with Branok. What did we agree on?”
I blink. “Erm, we have the mornings. He has the afternoons and sometimes the evenings when we’ll work for him.”
“Work?”
I nod. “Help him solve the mystery. Are you really alright? We discussed all this last night.” I reach out and push back his hair from his forehead. He shoves my hand away, and I take a sharp, shocked breath. It’s a gesture I’ve made a thousand times. Touching him is as natural as breathing.
“My head is hurting,” he snaps. “Do you have to maul me?”
“Maul?” I say, stunned. “What the hell, Levi? I’m not a fucking lion.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, but he’s opening the diary, and the apology is absentminded and clearly not meant.
“Okay,” I say.
He gives a longsuffering sigh of aggravation at my voice and he barely spares me a glance before returning to his reading.
My jaw works. I’m getting pissed off now. He might have bumped his head but it’s no excuse for this sort of behaviour. “I’m going in the other room. You can be completely alone, Greta Garbo, but if you fall asleep, I’ll keep waking you up, and if I am not happy, we’re going to the hospital. Understand?”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine.”
For the next hour, I busy myself tidying the cottage and finally unpacking our stuff. It’s raining outside, the sound dreary and cold. When I’ve done all there is to do, I stand outside the lounge, moving from foot to foot.
