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Once was more than enough.
Just as he took an inventory of her, she did one of him.
Aristos cursed the fact that he’d walked back with nothing but his workout shorts on. Those light brown eyes of her went rounder and bigger as they took in the map of colorful bruises and scars on his torso. Over the burn on his lower hip, which was healing but left a large scar. Over the scratches on his chest. Over the dark bruise inked across his abdomen.
Suddenly, he found himself offering thanks that she hadn’t returned weeks ago, when his injuries had been much, much worse.
When he passed her by en route to the bathroom, she stalled him, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. Something combative entered that soft gaze, teasing out the desire he wanted to keep a grip on. “Those look...awful.”
Even the catch in her tone couldn’t temper his mood just then. “Theylookawful.”
The tip of one pink-tipped finger traced the edge of the biggest bruise on his ribs that had turned purple. On and on, her finger went, even as her hand trembled, past his ribs, past his abdomen to the seam of his shorts, like some intrepid explorer mapping uncharted territory.
His stomach tightened, desire a deafening whoosh in his ears. With a hard swallow, he arrested her exploration. “Go to bed, Mira. We’re both exhausted.”
Her trembling fingers fluttered over his lower abdomen, possessive and hot, even as her mouth set into a stubborn line. “We need to finish our discussion.”
“Let it go, Mira.”
“Your entire upper body is a map of colorful bruises and you never gave me your promise. So no, I won’t let it go.”
“I told you earlier. But I will again since you seem to be operating on zero energy. They look worse than they feel.”
“Zero energy? I’m not the one who flinches when they have to get up.”
“That was just the result of a brutal physiotherapy session this morning. I’d pushed myself too far.”
“Just because I didn’t force the issue in front of Leo and Stella, just because I followed you home like a dutiful wife, doesn’t mean the issue’s resolved to my satisfaction.”
Aristos leaned an arm on the wall right above her head. Lemon and vanilla filled his nostrils, sweet and tart just like her, inviting him to drown in the scent.
All he’d need to do was bend down another inch and he could shut that stubborn mouth up in the best way possible. He’d have what he’d been dreaming of feverishly since the accident and facing his own mortality. He could drown in her hot, sweet response, he could give them both what they desperately wanted but were too stubborn to ask for.
And she’d let him do whatever he wanted to her, he knew that too. Even now, desire and something else warred in her beautiful face. They could seal the good news in the best way. But while wanting Mira had always been a weakness he didn’t mind indulging in, reveling in, the stakes were much higher now.
He had so much more to lose now if he didn’t control his emotions, if he gave in to the easiest path.
“I don’t respond well to threats,thee mou. You would have realized that if you paid attention to our history together. But you’ve conveniently erased every single part of our past.”
“I was not threatening you.” When he raised a brow, she flushed and licked her lips. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her top, flashing him glances of her belly that he desperately wanted to touch, and cradle and kiss. He wanted to experience the wonder of their children growing inside her with a longing he barely contained.
“Okay, yes, I was threatening you. But I... I didn’t mean to.” She rubbed a hand over her face, her shoulders slumping forward. Her obvious exhaustion gnawed at him, pushing his own temper toward the edge. “I didn’t mean to sound so dramatic and...mean.”
“Mean? You think I’m angry because you were mean to me back there?”
“Wait, Aristos. Let me explain properly. The last few weeks have been a lot and when I walk in, I find that—”
“The last few weeks, Mira? Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“What?” she said, raising her clueless gaze to his.
His words came in a torrent of anger, the only available and acceptable outlet to the ache he felt deep in a place he’d sealed off a long time ago. “You’ve hadweeksto get used to this. Weeks to make your plans and perfect your ultimatums. Weeks to decide how this was going to play out between me and you,ne?” He pushed off from the wall, his throat an achy mess it hadn’t been in a long time. Not since he’d been a child and discovered that his mother preferred to drink what little money she had instead of feeding her son. “I hadtwohours to sit with this news that you threw in my face. So, if I were you, I’d be very careful about throwing ridiculous threats and illogical demands in my face just now,thee mou. I never react well when I’m pushed into a corner. No wounded animal does.”
CHAPTER FIVE
HEWASANGRY. Of course he was angry. He had every right to be angry.
She hadn’t told him about the pregnancy in weeks and then she’d threatened to take herself away, his unborn children away, two minutes after telling him. Never to let him see them or her again.
