“What is it about this conversation that’s so important to you?” he asked, turning the question back on her.
She snuggled closer. “I want to talk about your father.”
Her answer took him by surprise. “You don’t want to talk about us?”
“Not this time.”
Her light laughter should have relaxed him, but the subject didn’t. He wasn’t any more comfortable discussing Edward than he was talking about them.
Still, he eased back against the pillows. Since she wasn’t going to accept no for an answer, Edward as a topic was the lesser of two evils. “What about him?”
Amber curled her body against his. Mike grit his teeth, fighting the pleasurable sensations that wouldn’t be eased any time soon.
“I was wondering if your father has ever seen a doctor?” Amber asked.
“For a physical?”
She shook her head, the soft curls splaying across his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and accepted the situation, hoping by the time she was finished talking, she’d be as aroused as he was and more willing to finish what they’d started in the kitchen.
“A mental-health professional.”
Unprepared, Mike stiffened and bit back the first words that came to mind—What the hell for?— knowing how absurd they would sound.
“Relax.” She squeezed his tense biceps. “I’m not criticizing, I’m trying to help. So, has he seen anyone?”
“No.”
“Why not? You admitted yourself that his behavior is off. I’ve seen it for myself.”
“He’s been driven to the brink by a goddamn curse that’s hovered over this family like a black cloud for centuries. What can a shrink do about that?”
She propped herself up so she could meet his gaze. “What if it’s more than that? What if Edward’s mood swings and instability are the symptoms of something that can be controlled? Not the result of a so-called curse.” Amber spoke slowly. She obviously chose her words carefully.
But Mike couldn’t answer her question. To take Edward to a psychiatrist meant learning for certain whether or not his father was insane. And that would bring to light Mike’s biggest, unexpressed fear. If Edward was crazy…genetically, clinically crazy and not just driven there by the Corwin curse, could Mike be far behind?
“Mike?” she asked quietly. “Isn’t it worth it to find out? Maybe something can be done for your dad.”
He exhaled hard. He wanted nothing more than to help his father, his own fears be damned. But he was embarrassed he’d never thought of psychiatric help before. Nobody had.
Until Amber. “I’ll look into it,” he said at last, before reaching over and shutting the lamp, then rolling away from her. Trying to block the desire and the emotional bonding she’d effortlessly achieved.
Undeterred, she curled around him, wrapping her arm around his waist, claiming her place beside him. “I only want to help you and your family,” she said into the darkness.
Nobody had ever wanted to help them before. Make fun of them? The kids had lined up. Whisper about them in town? Even the adults had been game.
“Why?” he asked her.
“Because I’m your wife.” She hugged him tighter. “And because I care.”
BECAUSE I CARE.
Amber’s words were the first thing on Mike’s mind the next morning. As he showered, he couldn’t stop thinking of what she’d said. Was there help for his father? If so, it was worth facing his own fears about the insanity in his family in order to find out.
Last night, Amber had reached out in a way nobody ever had before. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was smart and caring and he and his family were currently benefiting from those two attributes. He already knew he couldn’t resist her sexually. Now he was having trouble resisting the pull her sweet, caring nature had on him—and the loneliness he hadn’t realized he suffered from until she entered his life.
He had no choice but to put her life as a con on the back burner, and focus on letting her help his father. Which would lead to her becoming more intimately involved with his family.
And with Mike.