Chapter 10
Chapter ten
“I’ll see you at dinner tonight?” I ask, lowering my paper in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the way my husband’s ass looks in his slacks as he leaves the study.
Henry turns around and smirks as he catches me ogling him. “Yes, I’ll be home before dinner.” He goes to leave but stops himself before he’s out of the room and smiles. “Enjoy your day, Katarina.”
I give him a big grin of my own, “Oh, I plan on it. I hope you do as well, Henry.”
Nodding, he taps the doorframe with his knuckle and leaves for the day. It’s Saturday, and I won’t lie, I was half expecting—well, hoping—that he would be home for the weekend, but duty calls. Shaking off any lingering sadness, I finish the article I was reading and get changed for my morning hike.
Having Henry home more the past week has been interesting. I’ve had no trouble warming up to my new husband. The fact that he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen only has a little to do with it. We actually have more in common than I could’ve dreamed, making our time together enjoyable.
I believe he’s warming to me as well. We’ve spent our dinners together discussing current events, an activity I missed dearly during the week I was here alone.
After dinner, he would disappear into his study, and it only took me a couple of days to gather the nerve to join him.
The memory of the first night I followed him brings a smile to my face.
“Good night, Katarina,” Henry says as he leaves for his study.
“Hmph.” My arms are crossed, and my face is contorted into a pout. Not that my husband would notice, since he left without turning around.
Before I realize it, Potts is collecting the dishes. “Go after him, dear. He’ll be in his study doing a crossword for the next thirty minutes.” She takes my plate from my hand, trading it for another copy of today’s paper. “Show him your stuff.”
I sit straight, remember my worth, and march toward him, each step driven by ambition. The doors are shut when I reach his study. The thought to knock briefly crosses my mind, but I ultimately decide against it and barrel my way inside.
Henry’s chair faces the wall to the left of the door. He turns his head toward the intrusion, and I see the surprise in his eyes the moment he realizes who’s standing there.
“Katarina? Is there something wrong?”
“Of course not!”
His brows scrunch together, clearly confused. “Then what on earth are you doing here?”
“It’s crossword time, is it not?”
He looks at the paper lying on his lap, then at the paper in my hand. “Well…yes.”
“I’m here to do the crossword with you, of course!” I say with the biggest smile I can muster.
I can feel his gaze follow me as I practically skip to the chair opposite his and unfold the paper to the day’s crossword. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pen, would you?”
Without saying a word, he offers me the pen in his hand, then gets up to grab another for himself from the desk in the corner of the room.
“Thank you,” I say as he takes his seat again.
He doesn’t respond, but a glance up confirms I've gotten his attention. He’s staring at me with a quizzical expression on his face, brows raised, blinking sporadically.
“Have you started yet?” I ask with a smile.
He shakes his head, holding up his puzzle for proof.
Smirking, I ask, “Wanna race?”
Shaking his head again, he looks down at his paper. “If you insist.”
With that, I work as diligently as I can, trying to beat my best time. Potts told me it takes him fifteen minutes, and I’m usually always done in ten, but you can never be sure. How embarrassing would it be if he beat me at my own game?
“Aha!” I finish my last word and glance at the clock. Nine minutes and twelve seconds. I manage to control myself from celebrating, wanting to act as nonchalant as possible about my win, but I can’t hide the smile on my face.
Without a word, I stand, lay the puzzle down on the coffee table separating us, and go to leave the room.
Before I walk out the door, I glance back over my shoulder at Henry, and his expression is one I’ll never forget.
Henry Sinclair is not a man to show emotion, especially surprise, but the shock painted across his face is undeniable.
His eyes are rounded, brows raised, and mouth slightly open as he watches me leave.
“Good night, Mr. Sinclair. I’ll see you at the pool in the morning?”
“Yes…swim…bathing suit.” Clearing his throat, he regains his composure. “I mean. Yes, I’ll be there at my normal time tomorrow morning. Good night, Katarina.”
My memory ends as I’m brought to a screeching halt.
“Umph,” I squeak as I crash into something. I fall back, about to hit the ground, when a hand catches me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sinclair. I didn’t see you coming. And I was trying to pull this…and…”
Coming to, I recognize the poor man who’s fallen victim to my daydreaming. “Freddy, please don’t apologize. I was the one not paying attention. I hope you’re not hurt!”
Our groundskeeper, Fredrick, or Freddy as he prefers, was one of the first staff members I befriended. I run into him almost daily with as many walks as I take, and we always chat for a while if he has the time.
Freddy smiles. “No, ma’am, I’m perfectly fine. I was just trying to clear this path. I know you enjoy your hikes.”
“On a Saturday? Please don’t tell me you’re required to work on the weekends, too.”
“Only occasionally, ma’am.”
“Well, if you have to work, I might as well keep you company. I was just out for a hike anyway. We can walk the path together,” I say, lacing my arm through his.
He immediately concedes, allowing me to pull him along one of the many trails on the property. We walk for miles, stopping occasionally to clear any growth in the passageway, while he shows me places special to Henry and his siblings growing up.
He shows me a tree Henry’s sister fell from as a child, breaking her leg.
Apparently, that's where her husband, Jack, proposed to her earlier this year.
A little farther down into the forest is a clearing of land where Ledger, Jack, and Margot would play baseball.
As we make our way back to the house, he points out a dock where their father used to take Henry and his brother fishing as young boys.
With every passing story, I miss Sasha more and more. It’s impossible not to think of my own childhood and all the memories we made outdoors. When we make our way back to the house, I give Freddy a hug goodbye, insisting he go home and take the rest of the weekend off.
Still missing my cousin, who I’ve hardly talked to since moving away, I search for Mrs. Potts in hopes of some companionship, only to learn she’s out running errands.
I grab my current read, trying to shake off the melancholy once again, and head to the back veranda.
I’m well versed in letting things roll off my shoulder, but when a crack of thunder sounds the minute I sit down, I give up on being cheerful for the day.
After a rather dreary dinner, Henry excuses himself like always and heads to his study. I would typically follow him and show off my crossword skills, but I’ve had enough of his mood this evening.
With a sigh, I decide to call it an early night and head to my room to lie in bed sulking with a box of candy and some trashy reality TV shows.
Unfortunately for me, Henry’s study is between me and my sulking.
As I turn the corner, the open doors shine like a beacon.
This is the first night in almost two weeks I’ve seen them open.
I want to walk past them with my head held high, but I can’t keep from peeping in.
Passing by, I allow myself a glance and…
wow. Henry stands leaning over his desk, arms spread wide to support himself.
He’s clearly upset about whatever he’s looking at.
His suit jacket lies over the back of his chair, and his crisp white shirt is on display.
The top two buttons are undone, allowing the slightest bit of his chest hair to peek through.
His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, leaving his muscled forearms on display.
His normally well-kempt, thick black hair is disheveled and falling into his face, where he’s clearly been running his hand through it.
I realize I’ve gravitated into the doorway when he looks up at me. “Katarina, I’m afraid there will be no crossword for me tonight, but you’re welcome to do yours if you’d like.” He lifts a hand in the direction of my usual seat, and I see there’s a paper and a pen laid out for me.
With a catch in my breath, I look back at my distressed husband, any irritation I had from dinner gone. He’s looking down again, raking his hand through his luscious hair. I can’t stop myself from moving closer.
Approaching the desk, I realize he’s staring at a map. “What’s this?”
“It’s a map,” he says without looking up.
“Thank you, Sherlock.” I roll my eyes. “What's the map of?”
This time, he does look up. “My, er, our property.”
I squint my eyes, hoping that will help, but looking at it upside down, it’s impossible to read.
I make my way around the desk and try looking over Henry’s arm, but that’s no good either.
Finally deciding to just go for it, I bend down slightly and shimmy under his arm to get a front row view of this map.
The moment our bodies align, I feel him tense up.
Luckily, he can’t see my face right now because I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate the way my eyes roll back briefly at the feeling of his large body behind mine.
He’s so close, his scent so strong. I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of mint and vanilla, his after-dinner scotch, and something unique to him, but something is missing.
I’m not sure if it’s just my imagination running away with me or him actually smelling my hair, but I swear I feel his head lower slightly as he inhales as well.