Christakis's Rebellious Wife(50)

                Yet he had given her every opportunity to discuss her insecurities. Only, when had deep, meaningful conversations ever worked with Nik? When he didn’t talk back it was a waste of her breath and when he brooded in silence she felt even worse. And when, as now, he might feel that for the sake of her health and peace of mind he had to tell her whatever she wanted to hear, how likely was it that he would feel that he could be honest? Throughout the week, Nik had displayed endless concern about her well-being. Fortunately her appetite had returned and she was sleeping soundly again, pleasantly tired after daily swimming sessions and walks on the beach. But the emergency, such as it had been, was over now and he needed to accept that and stop treating her like an invalid.

                Tossing his phone down on the table, Nik came to a sudden halt in front of her. His wide, sensual mouth compressed. ‘Look, if Belle’s party is that important to you, we’ll leave tomorrow,’ he delivered grimly. ‘But I don’t agree with it—’

                Surprise and pleasure darted through Betsy that he had given way. He might not understand the depth of her friendship with Cristo and Belle but he was trying to respect it. Without thinking about it, she stretched up on tiptoe to link her arms round his neck. ‘You’ll enjoy seeing Cristo, and Belle told me that Zarif is trying to clear his schedule to attend as well...’

                The warmth of her smile lit up her heart-shaped face. It was relatively easy to make Betsy happy; Nik had realised that a long time ago but he had fallen out of the habit. But then in the early days he had had to negotiate a welter of misapprehensions before he had found the right path. It was not the cost of the gift that mattered but the thought and the effort behind it. It could be as simple as making a phone call, regardless of how busy he was, or of sharing the minutiae of his busy day to make her feel a part of it. Back then an unexpectedly sunny morning, the random kindness of a stranger or a casual compliment could leave Betsy wreathed in smiles.

                ‘Oh, joy, my brother the king with the big mouth,’ Nik derided as he looked down at her and slowly closed his arms round her slight body.

                Betsy groaned out loud, having forgotten that complication. ‘I think Zarif did you a favour, so cut him some slack. I had to find out about the vasectomy at some stage,’ she pointed out ruefully. ‘You had backed yourself into a corner by not telling me about it and I don’t think you knew how to get out of it.’

                Nik was genuinely stunned by that shrewd assessment of his behaviour. Ebony lashes shielded his reflective gaze but his thoughts were short-circuited by the soft, full mouth pressing to the corner of his with unstudied warmth. Betsy smelled of peaches and vanilla, and every barrier he had raised against temptation was washed away as if a tidal wave had engulfed him. His hands slid down to her delicately curved hips and he hoisted her up against him and brought his mouth crashing down on hers with hungry enthusiasm.

                ‘Why did I have to wait so long for that?’ Betsy moaned helplessly, struggling to relocate her breath while every skin cell in her body erupted into sudden life.

                Nik stiffened defensively at the question and then set her circumspectly down again. ‘Because if I can’t finish, I don’t want to start,’ he told her frankly.

                Brow furrowing, Betsy stared up at him. ‘Why can’t you finish?’

                Nik groaned. ‘You’re supposed to be resting, taking it easy—’

                Betsy flushed. ‘But Mr Xenophon told me that making love would be OK.’

                Nik froze in surprise. ‘And when did he tell you that?’

                ‘While I was getting dressed and you were in his office, because that’s when I asked him what I should be avoiding—’