Moonlight over Manhattan (From Manhattan with Love 6)

Ethan gave her a curious look

. “Maybe what I mean is that I don’t need a wife.”

“You make it sound like a liability. Or an accessory. I don’t need a new coat, I’m perfectly fine with the one I already own.”

“That’s how it felt. I felt bad about myself the whole time I was married.”

She couldn’t imagine him feeling bad about anything. “Why?”

“Because I was focused on work and I felt guilty about that. And so did she. Our relationship felt like pressure, not pleasure.”

She had to admit it didn’t sound much like the relationship she was hoping to find one day. “Did you love her?”

He was silent for a moment and the simple fact that he had to think about his answer told her everything she needed to know. “Not sure,” he said finally. “I thought I did, or I wouldn’t have married her. We got together because we were similar in many ways, but being similar isn’t necessarily a good thing. Were you in love with Eric? You said he didn’t want a relationship, which implies that you did.”

She wondered how he always managed to ask the questions she didn’t want to answer. “I think I was in love with the idea of a relationship more than I was with Eric. I know I have to be careful. My childhood left me with a need for warmth and security in my home life. I have to be careful not to be so desperate for that type of comfort, that I make bad decisions.”

“That sounds sensible, if a little clinical. Do you always think everything through carefully? Haven’t you ever made a wild, wanton decision?”

“Never.”

His eyes closed again. “If I didn’t feel as if I’d just done ten rounds in a boxing ring, I’d do something about that. Challenge Harriet.”

“Right now you’re not in a position to challenge anything, Ethan.”

And she wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

IT TOOK TWO days for his fever to finally come down. He slept most of the time, and each time he opened his eyes Harriet was there, checking his temperature, refreshing his water, reminding him to take his medication, rubbing his back when he was racked by coughing. Everything ached and moving from the bed seemed like an impossible task. Given that all he was doing was sleeping, he was surprised by how much he liked having her there. He wasn’t used to having anyone else living in the apartment, let alone hovering in his bedroom. Usually he prized the silence, but not only was he fairly sure he wouldn’t have bothered to drink anything had she not been there to hand it to him, she also created a level of background noise he found oddly comforting.

Occasionally she’d leave the room and through the drifting mist of sleep he’d hear her downstairs, talking to Madi or clattering in the kitchen. The dog adored her and followed her everywhere, and it wasn’t hard to see why.

Harriet was calm, her presence soothing. Anyone would feel better around her.

Over the past forty-eight hours, even hidden behind a fog of fever, he’d learned a lot about her.

He’d learned that she sang when she cooked, that when she spoke to a client about a dog she always asked after them too. She knew them all. What they’d been doing. What their problems were. And he heard her talking to her sister and knew she was fielding questions she didn’t want to answer. He learned that although she didn’t seem to lie, she was more than capable of being evasive.

He’d hear an mmm and a maybe and an occasional how are we twins when we’re so different?, but he hadn’t heard her mention him since that night he’d gone down with the flu and been too sick to question what he’d overheard.

And being ill had taught him another thing about her.

It had taught him that Harriet Knight was the kindest person he’d ever met.

He drifted off to sleep again and when he woke in the evening, two days after he’d all but dragged himself into his bed, delicious smells were wafting up the stairs. It was dark outside and the snow fell steadily outside his window. He felt a twinge of guilt, because he knew the emergency room would be busy, his colleagues having to pull together to find a way to fill the hole created by his absence.

“You’re awake.” Harriet appeared in the doorway, as she had done hundreds of times over the past few days. She’d taken a shower and changed into jeans and a soft sweater.

Ethan had to fight the urge to pull her into bed with him. “What’s that amazing smell?”

“It’s Madi’s dinner.” She topped up his water glass and must have seen the disappointment on his face because she gave a half smile. “I’m kidding. It’s chicken soup. My grandmother’s recipe. It’s perfect for tempting the appetite in people who aren’t well. I used to look forward to being sick so she would make this soup for me. And before you start reading too much into that, I should tell you it’s my favorite soup. I made it for myself.”

He knew that wasn’t true.

Food, he realized now, was her way of showing care and love. He also knew that if he didn’t play his cards right, he wouldn’t be eating the soup.

“So you’re not planning on sharing it?”