Her pain went so deep, it was almost unfathomable to him, though in a way, he understood her logic.
His scared, emotionally fragile, brave, selfless Courtney was trying to protect her unborn children. She loved the thought of her future children so much that she'd give up knowing them, give up having them, just to protect them from the pain that she'd endured.
This was an agony that she might carry her entire life. He suddenly saw her future the way that she was seeing it. It wasn't something he wanted for her, but he might not be able to change the outcome. If she continued to refuse to have kids, she'd never get to know the joy of being a mother, and that made him so sad for her.
But she couldn't hide one thing. She wanted him in her life, as her husband, he knew she did, even though it seemed she was determined to set him free. Yeah, right. He never wanted to be free of Courtney. There was no reason in the world she shouldn't have him. It escaped Nick that he wasn't thinking about his own loss. It never once occurred to him that he might never get to be a father. All he cared about was Courtney's happiness and being with her. Being there for her, as her husband, her lover, her protector, everything she needed. For always.
The fact that she'd actually stated that they couldn't be married almost annihilated him. Thank God they were already married and she wouldn't have a choice in the matter. Thank God they'd never had that particular conversation about children until after they'd exchanged the vows that would bind her to him forever.
He sucked in a stabilizing breath and then another. He could give up children if he had to. Children, to him, were an added bonus that he could do without, if necessary. There wasn't a chance in goddamn hell that he was giving up Courtney.
Nick kept his eye on Courtney's door but she never attempted to leave her suite the entire night.
The next morning, her face looked drawn, but she was dressed for work when she emerged into the living area. He stood in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee as she walked through to the elevator. "You going down?"
"Yeah," she said as she kept her eyes on the door.
"I'll see you later, then."
Nick watched her as she nodded her head and then took the elevator down.
Five times that day he walked past her office and five times, she was safely inside. The first time he'd walked by, her office door had been ajar and he'd noticed immediately that she wasn't wearing her rings. It pissed him off, upset him, but he'd slid the ring from his finger and put it in his pocket, in a move that, he hoped, was a show of respect for her wishes. What they were going through was between the two of them only; he wasn't going to make this any harder for her than it needed to be.
She must have seen him walk by, because after that, her door had been firmly closed. At five on the dot, he went by again. Her office door was open but she wasn't there. Grimacing, he took the elevator up.
Thank God, he heard her moving around her suite.
Not wanting to rush her, trying his damn best to be considerate, he ordered in food and went to have a shower before it was delivered.
An hour later, he knocked on her door. "Hey. You want to come eat with me?"
A few seconds passed and then her door opened. She was dressed in faded jeans and a university t-shirt, and without meeting his eyes, she went into the kitchen.
He leaned against the counter as she opened the boxes, and the sight of her bare ring finger almost did him in.
In silence, she prepared a plate for him and then a smaller version for herself. They ate together, sitting casually on the barstools, and just as quickly as she'd consumed the tiny helping, she left the room, mumbling, "I have a headache. I'm going to soak in the tub. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he gritted out, frustration and utter helplessness eating him alive.
For two solid weeks, their days and evenings followed the same routine. They went to work, went upstairs to the penthouse, ate in silence, and then Courtney would shut herself inside her room.
Ever since Courtney had begun working in the Rule Tower, she'd spent very few nights at the house with his mother, and only when he'd been out of town. Nick assumed the family thought they were just roommates, sharing the penthouse. He'd had no conversations with anyone in his family about it, and Courtney's belongings were still scattered between both locations.
She still wouldn't open up to Nick and day by long-suffering day, he continued to give her time to come to grips, leaving her almost completely to herself. But every time she left the building, which was rare, he experienced a flare of panic, and had to force himself not to demand she stay; he had to force himself not to follow her, to give her some space.
Finally admitting the truth; he knew he'd been scared to push her, afraid she'd make a move to end the marriage. He didn't like the admission; the knowledge pissed him off. It went against every instinct he had within himself not to take action.
But as the days and nights went by with zero to little interaction between them, he felt his anger and frustration begin to boil to the surface. He knew he couldn't go on like this much longer; he was fast getting tired of this shit. The time he'd been giving her to realize that they belonged together was about up.
His mood shifting even lower, he remembered their last real conversation where she'd so prettily told him that she loved the man he'd become, would love him forever while at the same time explaining why they couldn't be together. Resentment built like a time bomb in his gut.
So, she liked the man he'd become? That was damn good, because she was about to find out that he always got what he wanted. And in this case, what he wanted was marriage to her forever.
Yeah, damn, fucking good she liked the man he'd become.
She was about to get to know that man a little more fully.
Chapter Eight
Nick reached his breaking point a day later and there was no way he could allow Courtney to slip away from him again. He opened a bottle of wine, and when he called her from her room to eat supper, he had everything already laid out in the living room, ready for a casual meal at the coffee table.
He'd chosen a new release movie, an instant download, and as she sat, he asked if she'd seen it. Shaking her head, she glanced around with a look of mild panic before reluctantly sinking onto the sofa where he'd strategically placed her meal next to his.
He knew the change of location and the bottle of wine were causing that look of fear on her face, but son-of-a-bitch, he was fighting for his life here, for their happiness. Pushing her anxiety from his mind, he refused to change the course he'd set out for the evening.
As they picked up their plates, he pressed the remote to start the light comedy. He had everything planned out. Nothing could go wrong. Earlier, he'd taken a break from work and slipped upstairs to her suite of rooms and had easily found the box that contained her wedding rings.
He was past ready to put their problems behind them and begin their life together. He wanted Courtney and he wanted this bullshit to be over. He wanted his family to know they were married, he wanted her to accept him and their marriage, and he wanted exclusive rights to her forever. He wanted her submission and he wanted it tonight. Sex was part of that and he was more than prepared to seduce her to accomplish it.
Nick knew he wasn't much of a romantic guy. But he was trying his best here and he prayed like hell that she would like it. She had to or his happiness was doomed.
After the movie was about half over and their meals were eaten, he picked up the bottle of wine and topped up her glass. Her eyes were on the television, his were on her, and setting his own glass down, he moved toward her until there was no space between them. He wrapped his arm around the back of the sofa, and began twirling a strand of her blonde hair through his fingers.
She sucked in a quiet breath, the pulse in her neck quivered, and the wine in her glass sloshed just a bit.
He hissed out a breath in reaction, all the blood rushed to his cock, and he took the glass from her trembling fingers and set it down beside his.
Her gaze remained glued to the television, but her lids drooped just enough to tell him she wasn't seeing anything on the screen.
He pressed a button on the remote to mute the sound, and without waiting, he turned her face toward his with a single finger so he could study her.
She allowed the movement, but closed her eyes in retaliation.
He decided to let the small rebellion slide.
He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, more softly than he'd ever imagined he'd be capable of. A whisper of sound escaped her lips and he pressed more firmly. He took his time, forcing himself to go slowly while every instinct in his body screamed at him to rip her pants down her legs and spread her thighs. He clenched his jaw and went slowly.
He kissed along her jaw line, along the small shell of her ear, and back to her lips.
When he felt a small, trembling hand in his hair, he knew he was close to winning.
Opening her mouth with his tongue, he worshipped her with everything he had inside of him. It was easy to do. When her fingers clenched more tightly and she gasped for air, he dropped his head to her breast and began stroking her nipple with his mouth and tongue.
She moaned out a hot little sound, and soon her t-shirt became saturated in that one spot. Needing something more, he ran his hand down to the soft vee between her legs. The shorts she wore were terrycloth, and although he steeled his guts to go slow, he couldn't stand not touching her intimately for one second longer. His fingers snaked inside the hem of her shorts and skated along her skin, pushing her underwear aside.