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“Who’s on duty there?”
A small pause passes before he answers. “Gianni.” He clears his throat. “I think.”
I clench the phone in my palm. “You fucking think?”
“I know,” he says quickly. “I mean I know.”
He’s young, but let’s face it. Toma isn’t the brightest light on the Christmas tree. That’s why I need an heir to take over the business. I can’t rely on my cousins to do a good job. We worked too hard to get to the top. There’s no way I’m letting the business dwindle because my cousins don’t have enough brain cells. No. Sabella may not be a wife to me other than in name, but she will do her duty by giving me an heir.
“Do you want me to arrange something?” he asks in a too-thin voice. “A cleaning service?”
“No,” I bite out. “I’ll do it myself.”
Ending the call, I throw the phone on the desk and massage my temples where a headache is building. If I ever lay my hands on that old man who calls himself my grandfather again, I’ll strangle him.
Prioritizing the task over the business that needs my attention, I summon a fumigation and cleaning service. Then I email my personal shopper with instructions to refurbish the place. I wasn’t planning on making it comfortable for Sabella, but my impulsive decision is driven by guilt, the same age-old guilt about who I am and where I come from.
Little over fifty minutes later, a car engine sounds outside. I can’t deny the spark of anticipation that zings through my gut as I get up and exit my study. Just as I walk down the hallway, the front door opens. Heidi glances at me with a stony expression when I stop a few paces away. She pushes the door wide open and bends to pick up a large vacuum-sealed storage bag that lies at her feet. The contaminated linen, I’m guessing.
“You go right upstairs,” she says, her warm tone insinuating she’s not addressing me. “I’ll take care of this.”
She meets my eyes briefly as she hurries down the hallway, leaving Sabella and me alone by sly design. My wife stands on the threshold wearing the coat I gave her over a sweater and jeans. She carries an overnight bag in her hand. Her dark, glossy hair falls in damp tresses around her shoulders. I hope my shopper will remember to include a hairdryer.
Our gazes lock in a stare-off, her dark eyes piercing mine before she reaches behind her and closes the door. Her nearness does something to me. Under my clothes, my body hardens. The smell of her skin is different. Clean. It’s not the cherry blossom fragrance of her usual products I got used to.
I shove my hands in my pockets to hide the way my cock responds to her. “How are you doing?”
She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Do you care?”
“Your health is my responsibility.”
“Oh.” Her smile is sarcastic. “If you’re taking my health so seriously, you must’ve decided to keep me alive.”
“For now.” I return her animosity with a dose of my own. “You won’t serve me if you’re dead.”
Anger makes her eyes glimmer like gemstones, reflecting the effort it takes her to keep her mouth shut.
Her silence throws me off balance. I expected her to take the bait, to start the fight I need to blow off steam.
Surprising myself, I give her a piece of honesty. “I’m sorry about the discomfort you suffered.” I can’t quite bring myself to say the word lice. It’s too much of a concrete confirmation of something I don’t want to admit.
Her answer surprises me even more. “I need keys for the doors.”
“Keys for the doors?”
She bites her lip. A moment passes before she opens her mouth, but then she seems to check herself. Tipping her chin up, she says, “To lock myself in.”
I study her carefully. “Did something happen?”
“No,” she says quickly. “But prevention is better than cure.”
“Fine.” It’s not like she can lock me out. “If it’ll make you sleep better.”
“And I want a phone.”
“To do what with?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She glares at me even as she gives me another saccharine smile. “To maybe call Heidi when I discover lice on my head?”
