Dark Love (The Two Sides of Me Book 3) (23 page)

BOOK: Dark Love (The Two Sides of Me Book 3)
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“No more. I’m not telling you anything else about my old life so do not ask again understand?”

“Mmmhmm.” I usually bristle at his bossiness but not this time, this time I’m relieved to have this new rule now.

“Get in.” He throws back the comforter, but a knock on the door has me changing direction.

“Hey, just a minute there.” When I turn, he points at my bare legs. “Saint doesn’t get to see that, I can’t have every man around here in love with you. Put something on.” I give a half smile and bend down to grab my pajama bottoms, keeping eye contact while I slip each leg into them slowly.

“Gah, I’m burning those when you put them in the laundry.” I have just learned a surefire way to irritate my husband if necessary, one pair of cotton flannel pajama pants is all it takes. When I’m dressed I open the door for Saint, he hands me what looks like a large tackle box without a word. I take it and watch him carry the IV pole across the room due to the thick carpeting; he places it next to the bed on Evans side.

“Sir.” He lifts his chin slightly in a curt greeting.

“Saint,” Evan replies in the same manner. Mr. Saint is a man of few words that’s for sure.

“Mia,” he says to me as he passes pulling the door closed behind him.

“Saint,” I say to the closed door. “What’s this?” I ask turning and holding up the tackle box.

“Whatever you might need from the chamber… the little hospital.” He tries to correct himself before I notice, but it’s too late. The word chamber will forever evoke feelings of shock and nausea. Silently I place the box on the dresser and work at reassembling his IV fluids, hanging them and programming the volume and rate into the pump. He never takes his eyes off of me, watching while I work it feels
like he is examining me, looking for something.”

“You don’t think…?” he whispers.

“What?”

“Never mind, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He shakes the thought from his mind.

“What? Tell me please!”

“No. Come to bed.”

“Evan, comes on, you can’t just do that!”

“Yes, I can. I just did. Now get into this bed with me, you promised.” Good grief, he’s going to throw that at me a lot, I can just tell, but I may as well drop it. Stubborn ass. I begin to climb in when he suddenly stops me.

“Uh uh, not with those monstrosities.” He waggles his finger in the direction of my comfy pants. I sigh and pull them down roughly, tossing them aside. “Much better.”

Rolling my eyes, I nestle into my home in the curve between his arm and chest. Keeping my promise is going to be easy, I could live forever in this spot, wrapped in his strong arms listening to his heart beat, breathing in his signature scent of spearmint and eucalyptus.

“I adore you, my Mia,” he says kissing the top of my head. All of the fear and worry about his past is forgotten with those five words.

Two days later I have not been out of Evan’s sight longer than it takes to pee, and I’m starting to get stir crazy. I haven’t had an opportunity to go searching for the lock that the mystery key opens. At one point, my curiosity burns so hot I almost out myself and ask him, but I couldn’t. I even considered putting it back,
but I couldn’t do that either.

Dr. Carmichael informed us yesterday that it’s safe for Evan to travel but out of the blue Evan has started dragging his feet. Isaac has been around, dropping hints about the vacation plans, apparently it’s a secret, Evan loves to torture me with secrets and surprises. I haven’t been feeling tip top lately, but I’m doing everything I can to appear well, I want to go home, and I suspect Evan won’t let me travel if he thinks something is wrong.

Dr. Carmichael looked me over the day before yesterday, did some basic blood work and said I’m fine but Evan keeps watching me like I’m going to spontaneously combust at any second.

“Are you feeling all right today?”

“Yea fine, are
you
feeling all right today?” I ask sarcastically, he is the one who just had brain surgery, after all, I’ve only had a stomach bug.

“Yes Mia, thank you for asking.” His reply is laced with annoyance.

“So can we go home now? I don’t understand what you’re waiting for; Dr. Carmichael told you yesterday it was safe for you to fly. I thought you said we were leaving the minute he gave us the green light?” He stands feet from me buttoning up his jeans while I sit on the neatly made bed he obsessed over this morning, military corners, straight lines and smooth surfaces all over the place. What a neat freak.

I can’t believe how much I’ve missed seeing him dress in actual clothes. Not that I don’t enjoy him lounging around in his briefs all day, but the way he fills out a pair of jeans, ugh, it makes me want things we can’t have right now. And surprisingly enough he’s been a perfect gentleman where sex is concerned, no advances, no temptations, well no intentional temptations anyway; he can’t help looking delicious in his jeans.

“Something came up.” Something came up? Really? That’s all he’s going to give me?

“Like what? I can’t imagine anything more important than going home if it’s work related can’t Isaac handle it?” Now I’m starting to sound whiny but frankly I don’t care, I need to be back in Seattle, I need my family and my friends, and I need to get away from this house that is a constant reminder of the life Evan used to lead.

“No, he cannot.” He ambles over to me and smoothes his hands down my bare arms. “It won’t be long, I promise, I know you’re restless, and you want to go home, just trust me…please?” I frown and draw my neck back a notch in surprise. Please? He rarely asks for anything, he commands and even rarer than that is a
polite
request.

“Okaaay.” I drawl suspiciously. He ignores my reaction and leans to cover my mouth with his soft lips; sliding one hand around to the back of my neck he draws me closer deepening the kiss, taking my breath away. When he pulls back I don’t open my eyes, I don’t move at all, every time is like the first time with Evan. He leaves me breathless and under his spell with every kiss but the tenderness and need in that kiss are conveyed loud and clear. He has asked me nicely and placed a cherry on top; whatever it is that’s detaining him must be incredibly important.

“Come on, I want to go down to the kitchen for breakfast today, I’m tired of these four walls.” He pulls me off the bed leading me to the door.

“Wait, I need my sweater.” I’ve taken to wearing twin sets, this bug is messing with my thermostat, one minute I’m hot the next I’m chilly. This morning has been hot, and nauseating, and now I have to go choke down some breakfast without hurling, great. He holds the door open while I slip my arms into the gray cashmere sweater that matches my tank top and a pair of Toms, no heels today, I don’t have the energy. When we arrived in the kitchen the gang’s all here and surprised to see us out and about.

“Buenos Dias! Sit, sit I will make you breakfast!” Cecelia exclaims in her thick Spanish accent she stands and offers me her seat. Her plate is still half full, and everyone else is finished, she always serves others first and eats last.

“You’re not done, Cecelia; I can wait, it’s fine.” God it is
so
fine, the smell of coffee has me scoping out where to throw up if I can’t make it to the nearest bathroom.”

“No, you sit and eat, Cecelia doesn’t mind do you, Cecelia?” Evan interjects, and I scowl at him for being so rude, of course, he brushes it off as nothing, this little group is used to it.

“Rude much?” I sass.

“Smart mouth much?” he says with raised brows. Evan always speaks using proper grammar, his response almost makes me laugh it’s so out of character. I bite my lip to keep from giggling, but he pays me no mind circling the table and pulling out the chair Cecelia has just abandoned. Shit, I’m trapped, breathe through your mouth to minimize the smells, Mia, come on, focus.

When I sit, two sets of eyes, stare back at me with the same strange expression Evan has had lately. “What?! Why are you all looking at me that way?” Isaac lowers his eyes to his laptop that sits on the table next to him and Mr. Saint snaps his newspaper sharply disappearing behind it. Man! Either I’m becoming paranoid from being cooped up so long or these people are losing their marbles.

“You like waffles, yes?” Cecelia asks.

“Well yea but didn’t everyone have an omelet? I don’t want you to make something special for me.” I don’t want her to make anything at all; my mouth is already watering, and it’s not from hunger. I twist to face her hoping she can see the struggle in my eyes, after a moment of scrutinizing me she begins to work putting food away, sealing up packages and closing containers, she is a saint sent straight from heaven, if I didn’t feel like puking I’d kiss her.

Evan pours himself a cup of coffee and blessedly stands at the counter away from me. A few quiet minutes pass, each of us is engrossed in his or her own activity. I stare out the windows that face the back yard; trees bend and twist struggling against the wind. The weather is chilly here, but it’s much colder back home in Seattle. I never thought I’d long for the cold February days of a Seattle winter, but I do. I miss the forests and the snow, it’s almost Valentine’s Day, and I can’t believe we have been in Italy two months. Cecelia pops my bubble of homesickness presenting me with a steaming cup of…oh God, I hope it’s not coffee.

“It’s ginger tea. It will help your stomach.”

“Oh, ok thanks.” She also places a plate containing a piece of dry toast and a hardboiled egg in front of me. I curl my lip and wrinkle my nose. “You try it, you will see.” She encourages me, scooting the plate closer to me. I nod and sip the tea carefully, it’s hot, but the smell doesn’t bother me, in fact, I feel pretty good at the moment.

“Good?” Evan asks still keeping his distance.

“Mmmhmm.” Saint crinkles his newspaper regarding me for a moment before returning to his reading at the same time I catch Isaac sneaking a peek at me, what’s up with these people? I roll my eyes at no one in particular and sigh picking up the toast to nibble on the dry crust. Dr. Carmichael joins us a few minutes later. He has a cup of coffee with Evan; they chat quietly.

Cecelia cleans up the last of the breakfast, and I slowly finish my toast and egg. “All right, are you ready to go home,
everyone?” Evan claps his hands together once with enthusiasm. Every head swivels in his direction with interest.

“We can go? Really? Now?” A smile I haven’t seen for ages spreads across his face, the movie star blinding smile that reaches all the way to his eyes followed by the smirk and wink combination that I live for.

“Yes, right now, baby.” I pop up scooting the chair noisily across the floor nearly tipping it over; Mr. Saint leans to grab it just in time, and I skip across the kitchen to launch myself into Evan’s arms.

“Oh! Careful now.” A tiny bit of coffee sloshes out of his almost empty mug, and I wrap my arms around his neck squeezing in delight.

“I will start packing your things,” Cecelia says with excitement from behind me.

“Thank you,
Cecelia.” Twice in one day? Wow, he’s on a roll!

“I know how to be polite Mia, don’t look so shocked.”

“I should get going I need to grab some things from Dominus before we leave,” Isaac says and Mr. Saint rises from his chair as well, folding the newspaper up neatly and placing it on the table, I think we have another neat freak, maybe that’s where Evan picked up the trait.

“Make sure the jet is ready,” Evan says to Saint.

“Yes, sir, of course.” I’d like to see those two after a couple drinks to see if they know how to loosen up. A vision of Evan and Saint slapping each other on the back smoking cigars and bullshitting flashes through my mind and I giggle.

“You’re looking better, a little giddy even,” Evan says taking my hand and leading me out of the kitchen.

“I’m just so glad to be going home. What changed your mind? Was it something Dr. Carmichael said?” His eyes shift minutely, and I know I’m spot on, but he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Yes, just being thorough.”

“Hmm, well ok good, are you sure that’s all?” He slips his arm around my waist as we walk back to our room.

“Yes, I am.” Cecelia has several suitcases I’ve never seen before open on the bed in our room. She folds each piece of clothing like a clerk in a department store before placing them neatly in a suitcase. She moves with purpose and precision; it’s obvious she’s done this before.

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