He shook his head. He had spoken at length just that afternoon with Dr. Davidson after he had finally convinced Giana to be examined.
“She is a very active young woman,” Elvan Davidson had said carefully to him.
Alex had handed him a glass of sherry and closed the library doors. “What you mean to say, Elvan,” he finished for him, “is that she is headstrong, won’t listen to a word you say, and will continue to run like a racehorse until she is too large and must slow to a fast trot.”
Elvan Davidson, a longtime friend, sipped at the fine sherry before meeting Alex’s gaze. ‘’She is not what I expected,” Elvan said, fiddling with his watch fob. He felt himself blushing, a damnable cross no man of medicine should have to bear, and hastened to add, “Your wife, Alex, unlike any other young wife I’ve met who is pregnant with her first child, demanded to know every detail of what would happen.”
She had probably cross-examined him like a defense witness, Alex thought. “I trust you told her,” he said easily.
“Indeed yes,” Elvan said. “I cannot imagine anyone refusing your wife anything.”
“And that, my dear Elvan, you also found unexpected.”
Elvan’s blush retreated as he smiled, a disarming smile that his female patients found ever so reassuring, except Mrs. Saxton. If Alex had chosen a young lady as strong-willed as himself, it was none of Elvan’s business. And if Mrs. Saxton was nearly four months pregnant, her date of conception the first week of Alex’s arrival in London, well, that too was none of his affair. He leaned forward in his leather chair, his voice becoming serious. “You are her husband, Alex, and she will listen to you. Although she is quite healthy, she must rest more. She is too thin at the moment.”
He saw Alex’s dark eyes narrow. “What are you saying, Elvan?”
“Tie her down, Alex,” Elvan said, dropping his watch fob. “Make her rest more, particularly in these early months, and make her eat. For God’s sake, Alex, I have heard that besides running this household, she is involved in business.”
“Yes,” Alex said, smiling at the shock in his voice. “She handles all the Van Cleve business for her mother in London, and other business as well. She has also taken half a floor in my office building, stolen three of my clerks, hired a friend of hers to help her, and spends a great deal of time with my daughter. She seems so full of energy, so very unpregnant, I suppose.”
Another thought occurred to him, and he said slowly, “I as well as my wife much enjoy our marital relationship. Is there any harm—”
Dr. Davidson cut him off, more to keep the wretched flush from his face than to save his friend any embarrassment. “No,” he said shortly. “Your wife also asked me that.”
Alex laughed, unable to help himself.
“I might add that she smiled when I reassured her.”
“Then you anticipate no problems, Elvan?”
“No. But you should put your foot down, Alex. And I think you should content yourself with two children, no more.”
Hell, Alex thought, gazing down at his Giana’s sleeping face, shadowed in the dim carriage, one would be fine, and one child might be all he would ever know with her. He knew she still clung to her resolve to return to England after the birth of their child. Even when she lay panting in his arms, caressing him and holding him as if her world would end if he left her, there was the inevitable wariness in her eyes that made him want to strangle her. He had toyed with the idea of refusing to make love with her, wondering, if he denied her, if she would realize that she needed him, that her body needed him. He couldn’t do it, however. He wanted her, his need for her as great as hers for him.
He leaned back against the cushions, wondering at himself. His life had been so damned simple, so uncomplicated before his ill-fated trip to London. Now he was saddled with a woman who seemed to delight in bickering with him like a stray cat, and yet he was plotting to keep her with him. The truth was, he knew, that he liked to goad her, liked her sense of humor, and he liked having his house run as efficiently as his business. He even enjoyed discussing business problems with her each evening, still surprised, he supposed, that she, a woman, could listen and understand. And he enjoyed waking in the morning to find her curled up against him, her head against his shoulder.
“Giana,” he said, gently shaking her, “we are at the Archers’.”
She grumbled a moment, and stretched like a cat, yawning widely. “Oh dear,” she said, shaking away the dregs of sleep and staring out at the well-lit mansion with a line of carriages pulled up in front. “ Forgive me, Alex,” she said, smiling at him. “I don’t know why I was so tired all of a sudden. It must be your rustic New York air.”
He would tell her later that he intended to see her rest every afternoon. “We can skip this party, Giana.”
“Oh no,” she said, straightening her long gloves. “Derry will be here, and Mr. McCormick, and the Waddells, and—”
He held up his hand. “Do not recite the guest list, please.”
“And Jennifer,” she added on a small frown. “That girl is such a nuisance, Alex. The couple of times I’ve seen her, she embarrasses Derry with her jabs at me.”
As Alex assisted her from the carriage, she whispered in his ear, “She hates me, sir, because she wants you. Shall I tell her what a marvelous lover you are?”
He looked at her quite seriously, still holding her about the waist. “No,” he said quietly. “Tell her what a marvelous husband I am.”
Her expressive eyes fell from his face, and he lowered her to the walkway.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked, after waving Rayburn away. He pulled her thick sable-lined cloak more securely around her shoulders.
“You needn’t treat me like Leah, Alex,” she said. “Are you warm enough?”