‘Do you believe he loves you?’
‘If he does it is a very occasional love—not enough to endure a lifetime. Which is why I prefer option one.’
‘You will always have option one, where he supports both you and the baby, but what of option two?’ Nico persisted. ‘What if he wants marriage and a family now? What if he has changed his mind?’
‘Perhaps he is just saying that to humour me. You see, I know for a fact he would prefer a quiet wife who would stay in the background…’
‘You know that for a fact?’
‘Yes!’ Aurora said. ‘Because he told me so himself. And I’m not so good at being the type of wife he prefers. I could try to be her, though…’
‘Why would you try to be someone you’re not?’
‘Because if he makes the effort for me, then I should do the same for him.’
‘Would he want you to change?’
‘He wants serene, he wants elegant, and he wants calm and peace.’ She turned and looked at him in the darkness. ‘I could try to be all of that.’
‘You won’t last five minutes, Aurora.’
‘Watch me, Nico.’
He did.
Nico watched her sleep.
GABE!
Aurora woke in an empty bed and no baby.
No Nico.
Yes, she had the nanny, but panic had her dashing down the grand stairs and through the long entrance hall—and then coming to a halt at the door of the kitchen.
Nico sat on a bar stool holding her baby—or rather, their baby. He was wearing suit trousers, socks and shoes, but he was naked from the hips up and unshaven.
Half executive, half temptation.
‘I overslept,’ Aurora said. ‘I never oversleep.’
‘It’s only seven.’
‘That’s late for me. Usually I’m up at six…sometimes five…’ She was gabbling. But she had to keep speaking about inane things because the sight of him, the delicious sight of him, was too much for this hour.
‘Gabe needs to be fed,’ Aurora said, holding out her hands for him to hand over their son.
‘I just fed him,’ Nico said. ‘And that is why I am not wearing a shirt. He vomited on me. The nanny is sorting me out another one.’
‘Oh.’ Aurora didn’t know what to say to that, but again held her hands out for her son. ‘Well, he needs to be changed.’
‘He’s already been changed,’ Nico said.
‘Did you do that too?’
‘No.’ Nico shook his head. ‘I left that to the nanny.’
He smiled, and it was so rare that he did, that when he did she felt as if she wore skates and the marble floor was ice, for she wanted to glide over to Nico.
Her outstretched hands were now for him, Aurora realised, so she dropped them to her sides.
‘He’s handsome,’ Nico said, looking down at his son.
‘Very.’
‘I would expect his father must be too,’ Nico said, slipping into the banter they had shared last night.
‘Not really.’ Aurora wrinkled her nose and teased him, but could not erase her smile. She tried to, but it just kept shining through.
And then it dawned on her how terrible she must look, in his crumpled shirt and with a bruise on her cheek. Surely his perfect wife would be in active wear at this hour, all glowing from her morning yoga—or from having just gone down on him.
Aurora preferred the thought of the latter, even if she had never done it before…
‘I’d better go,’ Nico said.
‘Where?’ Aurora asked.
‘Where do you think?’
‘Can’t work wait, Nico? Surely we have a lot to discuss and—’ She halted herself, for she had sworn at least to try and be the perfect wife. ‘What time will you be…?’ She swallowed. His perfect wife would not ask when he would be back. ‘I’m going to cook today.’
‘I have a housekeeper for that.’
Although then he realised that she and her husband had both just gone on leave.
‘Or I have chefs down the road,’ Nico said. ‘And, anyway, you need to shop.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you need new clothes. And a haircut.’ He picked up her hand. ‘And a manicure, my dear elegant wife.’
She had never in her life had a manicure.
‘I don’t have time for that. I have a son to take care of.’
‘And a husband to please…?’ Then he stopped teasing her. ‘You have taken care of our son alone for the last two months, so today is for you. Go to the boutiques at the hotel and then to the salon. I shall let them know to expect you.’
‘Nico, I can’t—’
‘You never have to say that again, Aurora.’
But he was not saying it with the tender care she needed this morning. He was not holding her in his arms and telling her the nightmare of her world without him was over.
Instead, he was basically telling her that the money was taken care of.
Which was nice, of course. But it wasn’t even the icing on the cake. It was like a sugar ball that rotted your teeth and stuck in your throat.
She could not bear to spend the day without him—without knowing what went on in his head and what his reaction was to the fears she had shared last night.
‘I could come and see you on your lunchbreak?’ she suggested.
‘Aurora, I don’t have a lunchbreak.’
‘Is that only for peasants?’ she sneered.
‘Yep.’
‘Well, I might bring Gabe up to your office…’
‘No.’
