Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
KAI
The hallway light in the hospital flickered. Amelie’s head was down, reviewing the notes on the clipboard in her hand.
I observed her, taking advantage of the moment when she was unaware of my presence.
She wore shapeless scrubs and sneakers. Stray strands of hair stuck out of her messy bun, highlighting her olive skin.
Her makeup was understated, except for her almond-shaped eyes.
Those were her favorite features, and she often painted them with thick eyeliner.
She was gorgeous, and she was finally mine, though she had never felt more out of reach.
Being around Amelie was always a testament to self-discipline.
It was vital that I didn’t act on my impulse to grab and kiss her in front of her coworkers.
My grip tightened on the brown kraft bag in my hand as I fought my instincts.
I consciously slowed my breathing until I regained control of my senses.
The receptionist looked up from her desk as Amelie passed her. Everyone was always staring at her. It was equal parts infuriating and fascinating.
The receptionist said something that made Amelie giggle.
My chest tightened. She never laughed freely around me, her lips generally tightened into thin lines instead.
I desperately wanted that giggle for myself and hated that someone else drew it out of her.
I wanted to be the reason she smiled, and I wanted to be the one she leaned toward whenever she laughed like that.
But that wasn’t our reality. After dropping the kids off at their new school, I drove her to work in silence. There wasn’t a loving goodbye as expected between newlyweds, only the noise of her slamming the passenger door shut and me punching the steering wheel in response.
She had been vocal about her feelings for me until I got her into bed. A person’s reaction to touch didn’t lie. It was the first confirmation that this wasn’t one-sided.
Being with Amelie had unleashed the Neanderthal in me.
I felt manic, restless, on top of the world, yet at her mercy.
I feared coming on too strong, so I gave her space to process.
Every bone in my body objected to it, but I controlled my urges for her sake.
Seeing her with Stefan nearly broke that resolve.
Why did I bring her back to a house where she could reunite with him?
When I first saw Stefan after returning from our honeymoon, I wanted to murder him.
I had to leave the room before giving in to that basic instinct.
Otherwise, Amelie would have hated me for the rest of her life.
I’d be back to square one, and all of this would have been for nothing. I couldn’t risk it.
I had already waited years for her. I never wanted to relive those moments when I had to watch her through a fucking window. I wouldn’t let Amelie slip through my fingers. I couldn’t, not after being with her. Not when I was this close to having everything I wanted.
I should have known. Having half of her would only make me want to claim it all.
Last night, Amelie sought me out in a state of panic. She was pliant in my arms for a few blissful moments, letting me comfort her. I thought the universe was rewarding me for my patience by thawing her walls.
But as soon as her panic subsided, her thoughts returned to him. I had lived under the delusion that, although she was reluctant, marriage meant something to her. I thought she’d turn into my ferociously loyal wife. I was wrong. In Amelie’s heart, she’d always be Mrs. Noble.
The thought unleashed something dark inside me. I reacted poorly because she brought out a side of me that I didn’t know existed. She did the one thing no one else could—she rattled me.
Years of infatuation let loose, triggered by her rejection and my jealousy. I was dead set on making things right with her this morning, but her comments about Ruby settled like ice in my chest.
Why would I care if Ruby hits on you?
You can sleep with her if you want.
The ire lingered long after I dropped her off at work, during my video calls with business associates in a different time zone, and while I kickboxed to vent my rage.
I felt justified in my fury until the doubts seeped in.
I have had years to hone my obsession yet I’d given her mere days to acclimate.
Last night, I leaned into my dark side and scared her.
Perhaps she wasn’t trying to pawn me off to another woman because of him, but rather because of my actions.
I shouldn’t have been rough, taking without mercy.
The thought ricocheted in my mind until I climbed into my car and drove back to the hospital. I watched her roam the dreary hallway in scrubs. The color was a vivid turquoise, making her stand out among a sea of dull blue scrubs.
How did she make hers more vibrant than the other nurses?
Neither the fluorescent hospital light nor the cheap fabric muted her sex appeal.
The top revealed a hint of cleavage, while the pants hugged her hips and thighs.
My cock twitched in my slacks. Last night returned to me in flashes.
Her head tipped back, the sounds she made when she stopped fighting it, the way her body had answered me even when her mind refused to.
I dragged my gaze to the floor and breathed through it, stomping over the erotic visions.
Today wasn’t about sex, it was about fixing things between us.
When I reached the reception area, she assumed I was a visitor and turned to me with a big, warm smile. “Are you signing in—” Amelie stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes landed on me.
Silence stretched between us as her smile faded. I hated how she looked at me.
Her eyes drifted to my chest as I loomed over her. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked sharply.
God, she didn’t make it easy. It was frustrating how she seemed to suffer just from my presence when I couldn’t seem to stay away from her for more than a few hours.
I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
The receptionist glanced at me skeptically, and I flashed her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. I held up the bag in my hand. “I brought lunch for my beautiful wife.”
The receptionist melted at my words, putting her hands over her chest. “This is your husband? I can’t believe we’ve never met. Where’s Amelie been hiding you?” She extended her hand, ignoring my fuming wife. “Hi, I’m Joline. Call me Jo.”
We exchanged pleasantries while Amelie swayed with anger, furious that a bystander was charmed by me. I stared down at her, daring her to argue or tell the receptionist she wasn’t mine.
She clutched the clipboard to her chest like armor. Jolene, or Jo, noticed our tense exchange and busied herself with answering a non-ringing phone.
Amelie glanced accusatorially at the brown bag in my hand, then back at me. “Why did you bring me lunch?” Her voice was low and suspicious.
“Because you don’t like cafeteria food.” I reached for her cheek to soothe the distrust. She flinched before I made contact, a small, instinctive recoil, like a person bracing for impact. I dropped my hand. The distance between my palm and her face felt obscene.
“How did you know—” She cut herself off, probably recalling that I had her investigated. “Never mind.”
“How’s your day going?”
“It was going well.” She shoved past me and strode down the hallway. I followed leisurely, and despite her attempt to lose me, I kept up with ease. Amelie tried to ignore me with her chin in the air and finally sighed in annoyance.
“Why are you following me?” She tutted.
“Lunch. Should we eat in the cafeteria?”
“I don’t have time for this. Hey, hey, hey. Let go.”
I grabbed her elbow and tugged her toward me.
The flowery smell of jasmine hit me before I fully registered that she was pressed against my chest. Her palms landed flat against my shirt, and I could feel her warmth through the fabric like a brand.
My grip on the bag tightened. She smelled the way she had in my bed, and my body made no distinction between the two moments.
I stood very still. A man’s true measure of control was proven under the most challenging circumstances. When others would snap at the smallest provocation, I was composed. But when it came to Amelie, she was determined to test my limits. First with her resistance, then with her sex appeal.
I waited a moment before I moved, dragging her to the cafeteria.
Amelie let out a frustrated growl, her pace slowing as I held the door open.
The cafeteria buzzed with the lunchtime rush.
Nurses and doctors in blue scrubs and white lab coats bustled around us.
There were a few discreet glances as they tried to place me.
They probably saw my face on the bench ads.
In the more likely scenario, they were staring at the grown woman howling at me.
“Are you insane? I’m not going in there with you.”
“People eat lunch in the cafeteria.”
She dug in her heels. “No. Absolutely not. Everyone still thinks I’m married to Stefan, and some of my coworkers have met him. I don’t want them seeing us together and getting the wrong idea.”
My barely suppressed rage threatened to break loose. I tugged her inside. “I don’t care what people think.”
“I can’t believe you have the audacity to show up at my work after what you did last night.”
“All I did last night was fuck my wife.”
Her eyes widened at the lewd comment. Her lips parted slightly, and color crept up her neck before she caught herself and looked around to check if anyone had heard us.
She paled when her eyes locked with someone at a nearby table—a man in a white lab coat sitting with his colleagues.
His angular face lit up with recognition.
Pushing back his chair, he strode toward us with an outstretched hand.
“Mr. Cavendish! What a pleasant surprise!”
Amelie cut me a horrified glance. “You know our Chief of Medicine?”
There was no time to respond as the man reached us. What was his name again?