He wasn’t so stupid he even tried to tell himself it was the bed. He missed Polly and couldn’t help feeling he might have made a huge tactical error.
The conviction that Polly believed the only thing they had between them was sex had grown day by day. She’d said it more than once.
Bed was the one place in their marriage that they got it right.
He was too much of an overachiever to accept that kind of limitation. He wanted her to trust him. To believe he loved her.
He didn’t want her to think his words of love were just a mix of affection and lust like she’d said they were.
He loved her madly, deeply and forever.
No way could he accept that view.
And he was at a loss as to why she could not see the truth.
Yes, he’d made some mistakes. Loads of them if he were honest, but he’d shown her his love too. Okay, yes, they struggled with communication. Yes, she’d misunderstood some things, but enough to believe he didn’t know what he meant when he told her he loved her?
It made no sense.
Alexandros had given more to Polly than he had to any woman that had come before her.
He had made her his wife. He had changed things in his life to make her happy.
Only somehow, he had failed.
And failure did not sit well with him.
He would prove to his wife that he loved her and didn’t just lust after her. Though that emotion was strong enough.
He hadn’t argued with his banishment to the guest room for two reasons.
One, his wife was angry with him, but it was the look of wounded vulnerability he could not argue with.
And two, she had been right. If he slept with her in his arms, he would have touched her. And if he touched her, his good intentions would not have stood against his physical need for her.
Maybe he needed to prove to both of them that lust was not the basis of their marriage.
He knew she thought his mother had instigated this, but Polly was wrong on that count. Every time his wife had implied their compatibility in the bedroom was their saving grace, he’d grown more and more bothered.
And determined to prove her wrong.
His mother had told him that if he wanted to fix what he had broken, he would have to sacrifice his own wants and desires.
He could not think of a bigger sacrifice than to give up sex with his wife while he proved himself to her.
But lying there in the dark, craving her touch, just wanting to hear her breathing beside him, he had to question his own wisdom.
Perhaps he could prove his love without giving up the one thing they got right.
Maybe he’d been a world-class idiot giving that one thing up when there was a very real possibility it was the only thing that had kept his marriage together at times.
The thought chilled him and made it no easier to sleep.
Alexandros heard his wife moving around as soon as she got up.
Though she was quiet, no doubt not wanting to wake their energetic daughter, he was aware of every rustle that indicated Pollyanna was no longer sleeping peacefully in their bed. If she had slept peacefully at all. He certainly had not.
The prospect that his request the night before had given his wife as poor a night’s rest as he’d had did not sit well with him.