“It’s not a job.” She’d tried to treat Husband and Wife like spots on an organizational chart and it wasn’t that simple. Having a gorgeous body in a tux to escort her to fundraisers wasn’t enough. She needed someone she could call when her world was crashing in on her and she thought she was dying.
That unexpected thought disturbed her. She had learned very young to guard her feelings, never show her loneliness, be self-sufficient and never, ever imagine her needs were important enough to be met. Wanting to rely on Gideon was a foreign concept, but it was there.
Gideon was watching her like a cat, ready to react, but what would he have done if he’d come home to find her sobbing her heart out? He’d have tried to ship her into the sterile care of stiff beds and objectifying instruments.
And yet, if she had found the courage to ask, would he have stayed with her and held her hand at the hospital? Would it have made a difference if he had?
It would have made a huge difference.
Deeply conflicted, she pushed back her chair, fingers knotting into the napkin on her lap. She didn’t like feeling so tempted to try when there were so many other things wrong between them.
“You make it sound so easy and it’s not, Gideon.”
“We have a few days before your brother shows up,” he cut in with quick assertion. A muscle pulsed in his jaw. “I’ve cleared my schedule to the end of the week. We’ll spend time together and set a new course. Turn this ship around.”
She wanted to quirk a smile at the shipbuilder’s oh-so-typical nautical reference, but her system was flooded with adrenaline, filling her with caution.
“What if—” She stopped herself, not wanting to admit she was terrified that spending time with him would increase her feelings for him. He was trying to make her feel special and it was working, softening her toward him. That scared her. If she knew anything about her husband, and she didn’t know nearly enough, she knew he wasn’t the least bit sentimental. She could develop feelings for him, but they’d never be returned.
What was his real reason for wanting to stay married?
“Look how much we’ve weathered and worked through since this morning,” he reasoned with quiet persistence, showcasing exactly how he’d pushed a struggling shipyard into a dominant global enterprise in less than a decade. “We can make this marriage work for us, Adara. Give me a few days to prove it.”
Days that were going to be excruciating even without a replay of today.
Nerves accosted her each time she thought of seeing Nico again and in the end, her consideration of Gideon’s demand sprang from that. She would prefer to have him with her when she met Nico again. She couldn’t explain it, but so many things, from social events to family dinners, were easier to face when Gideon was with her. She’d always felt that little bit more safe and confident when he was beside her, as if he had her back.
“You’d really move over to my brother’s house with me?” she asked tentatively.
“Of course.”
There was no “of course” about it. He showed up for the events in his calendar because it was their deal, not because he wanted to be there for her.
At least, that was her perception, but she hadn’t really asked for anything more than that, had she? He’d offered to come to the hospital each time she’d told him about another miscarriage. She was the one who’d rebuffed the suggestion, hiding her feelings, not only holding him at a distance but pushing him away, too fearful of being vulnerable to even try to rely on him.
Which hadn’t made her less vulnerable, just more bereft.
She couldn’t stomach feeling that isolated again, not when she had so much of herself on the line. Still, she wasn’t sure how to open herself up to help either.
“If you really want to, then okay. That’s fine. But no guarantees,” she cautioned. “I’m not making any promises.”
He flinched slightly, but nodded in cool acceptance of her terms.
CHAPTER FIVE
GIDEON WAS A bastard, in the old-fashioned sense of the word and quite openly in the contemporary sense. When he wanted something, he found a way to get it. He wasn’t always fair about it. His “bastard” moniker was even, at times, prefaced with words like ruthless, self-serving, and heartless.
When it came to other men trying to exercise power over him, he absolutely was all of those things. He fought dirty when he had to and without compunction.
He had a functioning conscience, however, especially when it came to women and kids. When it came to his wife, he was completely sincere in wanting to protect her in every way.
Except if it meant shielding her from himself. When Adara’s brother, “Nic,” he had called himself, had invited them to take a room at his house, that was exactly what Gideon had heard. A room. One bed.
Normally he would never take up such an offer. Given the unsavory elements in his background, he kept to himself whenever possible. He liked his privacy and was also a man who liked his own personal space. Even at home in New York, he and Adara slept in separate beds in separate bedrooms. He visited hers; she never came to his. When she rose to shower after their lovemaking, he took his cue and left.
That had always grated, the way she disappeared before the sweat had dried on his skin, but it was the price of autonomy so he paid it.
Had paid it. He was becoming damn restless for entry into the space Adara occupied—willing to do whatever it took to invade it, even put himself into the inferior position of accepting a favor from a stranger.