“Go away, Nash,” she muttered as she tried to take her hair from his grip. “I don’t want you here.”
Too damn bad. He wasn’t leaving.
After a few more minutes, Lily started to rise and Nash slid his arm around her waist and pulled her up. Limp, she fell back against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. The way her body fitted against his always felt so right, so perfect. Would he ever be ready to let her go?
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “This is not a side of me I wanted you to see.”
Splaying his hand across her abdomen, Nash kissed her temple. “Don’t hide from me, Lily.”
She covered his hand with her own. “I just wish I knew what we were doing. Where we were going.”
That made two of them. For now they had a baby to focus on and the passion that was all-consuming whenever they were close to each other. They may not have the ideal setup or even an idea of what to do next, but they had something.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her. “And you’re going back to bed. You need to keep up your strength and I made you breakfast.”
Lily groaned. “I can’t eat. The thought of food makes my stomach turn.”
“You’ll make yourself even sicker if you don’t get something in you.”
Without a warning, he bent down, snaked an arm behind her knees and another supported her back as he scooped her up and carried her back into bed.
“You’re really taking this role of caring for me to the extreme.” She slid her arms around his neck and closed her eyes. “But I’m too tired to argue. When I feel better in a couple hours we’ll discuss this caveman persona you’ve taken on.”
Smiling, Nash eased down onto the rumpled bed. “I’ll take the eggs away if you think you can’t eat, but at least drink.”
Nash took the plate into the kitchen and dumped the contents into the trash. By the time he got back to her, she was propped up against the headboard, sheet pulled up and tucked beneath her arms. The glass of juice was about a quarter of the way gone.
And she was holding his gold designer watch in her hand.
Her eyes sought his across the room. “This is a pretty nice watch,” she told him, setting it back down on the nightstand.
Damn it. He’d completely forgotten he’d left that out.
“Thanks. It was a gift.”
Not a lie. One of his own jockeys had bought that for him several years ago after a big win.
“For a groom you have a pretty impressive house, too,” she said, settling deeper into the pillows. “You must be really good at managing money.”
He knew she wasn’t fishing, but he also knew he was treading a thin line here. He had to open up about some things or she’d really start to wonder if he was hiding things from her.
Stepping farther into the room, he shrugged. “I don’t really have anything to spend my money on. I’m not married, I don’t travel or buy lavish things. I work, I come home.”
Okay, that last part was a complete lie. But he really was a good manager of money. Because he came from nothing, watching every dollar was deeply instilled into him at a young age.