November Harlequin Presents 2(223)

‘Hi, honey.’ Drooping with weariness, he planted a kiss, and it churned Lily’s stomach as it landed on Emma’s cheek rather than hers, the tender reunion   she’d been secretly hoping for dissipating further if that were possible. ‘I didn’t know you were coming over—customs was a bloody nightmare.’

‘Poor you,’ Emma groaned in sympathy. ‘Never mind, I’ve been keeping your lovely new wife company—someone has to. Oh, hi, Abigail!’ she added as the woman herself breezed in the door, looking more like she’d stepped out of a beauty parlor than a plane. Her hair and make-up were immaculate, her suit completely unruffled, and she raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow as she surveyed first the room and then Lily, the tiniest hint of a smirk on her face as she zipped open her bag and pulled out a small silver laptop.

‘Do you want me to check if those figures are in, Hunter? Then I can prepare the report for your morning meeting.’

‘Please.’ Hunter yawned without covering his mouth, then planted a rather haphazard kiss on Lily’s cheek, barely even glancing in her direction—the hours of preparation she’d put in for this moment, the thrill of anticipation at their reunion   dissipating as Hunter practically ignored her, chatting amicably with Emma, with his back half turned to her. Feeling like an outsider in her temporary home, Lily stood up and retreated to the kitchen, but there was no solace to be found there. Abigail had beaten her to it, frothing the milk like some professional barista, rescuing the burnt lamb Lily had lovingly prepared from the oven and slicing it onto bread.

‘You don’t mind?’ Abigail checked with a sweet smile that was definitely false. ‘Only Hunter’s starving.’

‘Help yourself,’ Lily retorted, refusing to jump to the bait, refusing to belittle herself as her lovingly prepared dinner was shredded before her eyes but allowing herself the luxury of pointing out an obvious fact. ‘After an evening spent in customs, he probably wants to just eat and go to bed.’

‘Customs?’ Abigail turned and crinkled her pretty nose, her botoxed forehead attempting to frown and spectacularly failing! ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. We cleared customs in five minutes.’



‘I thought they’d never go!’ Hunter rolled his eyes as he finally closed the door on their uninvited guests. And now that they were alone, now there was nothing to distract him, he graced her with his attention, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her neck, holding her fiercely against him, just as she had imagined he would—only several hours and a whole lot of hurt too late. ‘God, I’m exhausted, Lily.’ He almost groaned the words out, his hungry mouth for once not searching for hers, just holding her against him, almost leaning on her. Screwing her eyes closed, she fought resistance, knew that no matter how much he denied it today was a brutal day for him, knew that even if he couldn’t admit it, today he was hurting like hell—and it would be so easy to put her feelings on hold for tonight, so, so easy to ignore the questions that were buzzing in her mind and give him the comfort he craved. But she knew there and then she couldn’t do it for a second longer.

Couldn’t make love to him without revealing how she felt; couldn’t give just her body for even one more night.

Couldn’t be the wife he wanted.

‘I need to clear up.’ Ducking her head, she tried to pull back, but Hunter held her tight.

‘The cleaner will be here in the morning,’ he murmured. ‘Let’s got to bed—I’ve got to be up at six.’

But she wriggled out of his arms and proceeded to clear away the glasses and plates that littered the table.

‘Leave it, Lily.’

Ignoring him, Lily carried the dishes through, staring at the remains of the dinner she had so carefully prepared hacked to pieces by Abigail as Hunter followed her in.

‘Can we just go to bed?’

‘You don’t need my permission to go to bed, Hunter.’ Lily filled the sink and flicked on the tap. ‘You go in and I’ll be in when I’m ready.’

‘I’m sorry I was late and ruined the dinner.’ His voice was tense, each word bristled out through strained lips. ‘I’m sorry that Emma and Abigail stayed so long, but I’ve had one hell of a day and right now I just want to go to bed—with my wife!’

He was practically shouting, his voice rising with each word, and any hope Lily had of avoiding confrontation tonight faded. Her eyes were equally livid when she turned to face him, furious that he thought a burnt dinner was all she was upset about—that he could really think she was that stupid.