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CHAPTER TWELVE
THEYWEREINa strange standoff that Minerva couldn’t quite decode. She had slept in her bedroom for the last three nights, and he hadn’t come to her. On the island sex was how they’d communicated. And maybe that wasn’t healthy, but it had provided some sort of closeness at least.
This confirmed that her decision to ambush him about the sex on the plane was valid. She’d had the sense if she didn’t say it there, she wouldn’t have the chance.
Almost as if she knew that once they were in this great gray city it would all be changed.
It was.
And she was oppressed by the gray. Emotionally and all around them. Even the view of Central Park felt gray.
And maybe out of sheer stubbornness she had not gone out of the apartment to explore the city. He was right, it was New York and there were endless things to do. But Isabella was still small, and Minerva was conscious of the various illnesses that lurked out there on every park bench, handrail and shopping cart.
At least, that was what she told herself.
And she did not allow herself to think that maybe she was just being stubborn.
That she was refusing to accept her new life out of sheer spite. Because she didn’t want to be in this.
And why? She wasn’t entirely sure.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t left home before. She had. On her grand adventure to Rome—which had ended up containing a little bit of disaster.
She swallowed hard.
Mostly, she was a little bit grateful for this strange coolness between them.
It had allowed her some time to regroup.
On the island she had been convinced that she was in love with him. Or at least, mostly in love with him. Here, she could see that it had been a combination of sun and sex. Here, she could see that she was inexperienced, and was responding to him in that way.
That she had been afraid of leaving the island in part because she had known that it would affect a change in their relationship.
That losing the cocoon of intimacy that had surrounded them there would thrust them back into the real world, and she would have to contend with the fact that marriage vows neither of them had particularly meant would not create an unbreakable bond.
Neither would they create feelings where they didn’t exist. At least, not on his hand.
But it was fine. Because her feelings had been magnified.
She had to accept that she had a crush on Dante, and now that she was working it out she had a bit of clarity.
When he returned home that night, his expression was stern. “Three dresses are being sent, and the nanny will be here shortly.”
“Nanny?”
“Yes. The nanny that you were using back in San Diego is on a plane on her way here. We have an engagement to go to tonight.”
“We do?”
“Yes. A gala. As I didn’t know if I would be back in the city I hadn’t committed to it, but as it is, it’s a connection that your father would very much like me to make. It is in the interest of King, and given that, it is important that you come with me.”
“So, my father has been in touch with you? He hasn’t been in touch with me.” She could have easily been in touch with her family. But she was in high avoidance mode. Feeling fragile and not wanting to deal with the realities of her family, now that she married and slept with Dante, and she didn’t want to hear anything about the news reports on them either.
She wanted to hide in this apartment. And she wanted to be home.
She didn’t make any sense even to herself.
And she was far too wrung out to care.
