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“It’ll be fine. I’m sure the ibuprofen will help.”
“Lie down,” he orders.
I frown. “You know, you don’t have to be so bossy.”
“Daniella.”
With a sigh, I fall onto my back, staring up at him. He seems so intimidating, larger than life. In the low evening light, his eyes are darkened as he assesses me almost clinically. He reaches over to smooth his hand over my forehead, not to check my temperature this time. I appreciate the touch, the heat wafting from his body distracts me from the pain.
“Are you going to leave now?” I ask with a yawn, feeling sleep starting to pull me under.
“No,tesoro. I’ll stay.”
When I fall asleep, I dream again. Liquid heat, golden eyes, and dirty words whispered into my ear at night.
By the time morning rolls around, he’s gone. But I know he stayed. There’s a blanket on the chair, right next to my bed. A smile graces my lips as I get to my feet. I feel much better. Then my gaze latches onto the bowl and wet cloth on the bedside table. Christian must have tried to lower my fever while I slept.
The first thing I do is shower, then I stray downstairs in search of food. My steps are halted when I enter the living room, because he’s still here. It’s 10 a.m. and Christian hasn’t gone to work. That’s practically unheard of.
“Why are you still home?”
He looks at me, eyes drifting over my face and down my body like he’s searching for some sign that I’m alright. My cramps usually only last one day, thank God. So I should be okay.
“I had to make sure you were alright,” he says gruffly before returning his attention to his phone. I swear, that device is glued to his hand.
I continue to stand at the entryway, unsure of what to do. Last night he acted in the most un-Christian-like manner and I’m not sure what to make of it.
“Hello to you too, Dany. It’s so nice that you acknowledged me,” Topher says dryly, interrupting my thoughts.
My gaze drifts over to him. He’s seated to the left of Christian, dark hair grown past his shoulders, brown eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Nice mustache,” I say, stepping forward and taking a seat opposite him.
Topher traces the hair around his mouth with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.”
“That was sarcasm. I hate it.”
He frowns. “When it comes to my level of attractiveness,cognata, you don’t count. Especially since you’re climbing into bed with my brother.”
My cheeks heat. Christian ignores the comment, pretending neither his brother nor I are in the dining room with him. I don’t bother to correct Christopher’s notion that I’m having sex with his brother.
“Where have you been, anyway?” I question, changing the subject.
“Argentina,” he replies. “It was a hell of a lot of fun.”
“Must be nice traveling from place to place and spending all the money you want without a job,” I muse.
His eyes narrow at the jab while Christian rolls his eyes.
“You don’t really have a job either,tesoro.”
“Yes, and whose fault is that? I got a degree and then got shackled with a marriage immediately. Also, if I told you now that I wanted to get a job, would you even let me?”
He ponders that for a moment before rubbing his jaw. “No.”
“Exactly my point.”
“Eat your breakfast,” he commands. “You haven’t had anything since yesterday.”
