3. A Sad Realization #3
He moved quickly across the lobby floor and spared not even a glance for Marcus, who was still manning the security desk. Not wanting to direct even more of Nash’s focus onto the innocent man, she averted her eyes as well.
They exited the glass doors and saw their driver standing at the ready to open the car door.
“Sir, ma’am,” he said with a respectful nod.
She gave him a polite nod but said nothing as she ducked into the backseat of the car.
Nash was stone cold, completely silent. Once the driver had closed the door behind them and rounded the car to slide in behind the wheel, Nash raised the glass privacy screen.
His eyes cut to hers, and he sat staring at her.
A soft vibration filled the air, and her eyes flicked to the phone as he pulled it from his breast pocket without looking at it.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” she asked quietly, meeting his hard stare.
He shook his head, still studying her like she was a mystery he was desperate to solve.
“What if it’s important?”
He quirked an eyebrow, then tucked the phone back into his pocket without saying a thing.
When the phone stopped vibrating, she breathed a sigh of relief. But mere seconds later, it began going off again.
“Seriously? Just answer it,” she said with exasperation. “It’s clearly important.”
Her words had no effect except to make him pull his phone out of his pocket and silence it. Once again, he looked at her with ice-cold eyes. He was a fortress; she couldn’t get a read on him.
Instead, she averted her gaze out the window, distracting herself with the busy life of the city flashing by.
She noticed a mother with three young children walking down the sidewalk.
She held one slung over her hip, grasped the hand of a small toddler with the other, and the final girl walked alongside, holding onto her mother’s purse strap.
Iris turned her head to keep the woman in view as long as possible.
How did she do it? That many children, all dependent on her for their safety, and she was just doing it. More than that, from the look Iris had gotten of her face, she was smiling. Appearing to be the happiest she could ever be while her children chattered to her.
Iris’s heart ached slightly.
Resolutely, she ignored it, pushing it down into the very depths of her soul.
She had accepted long ago that her dream of a gaggle of children was unrealistic.
Let alone the fact that her soon-to-be husband would never allow it—she doubted she was equipped to be a mother.
Though, Nash probably would want an heir...
Strange butterflies took off inside her stomach at that thought. A little boy with his blue eyes, but instead of icy aloofness, they were warm and full of love. Or maybe a little girl?
Iris was helpless to fight the wave of longing that thought evoked.
“Do you not like the penthouse?” Nash’s gruff words jerked her out of her fantasies and slammed her firmly back into the present. She glanced at him before quickly lowering her gaze once more.
“It’s fine. What could I have to complain about?” she muttered.
He let out a grunt of irritation.
“Would you like to go house-hunting?” His calm question had her eyes shooting up to his. “You can pick anywhere to live that you would like.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she stammered quickly. “You’ve lived there for years. You like it.”
His eyes narrowed—a clear indication that he had picked up on the words she hadn’t said. He liked it. She had never said she did.
“You obviously have an issue with it,” he said while reaching out and grabbing her chin with a surprisingly gentle hand. “If you are unhappy, I expect you to tell me.”
“Why would you even care?” She ripped her face from his grasp and folded her arms over her chest huffily. “You never took the time to notice if I was happy or not last time. Why are you now?”
She saw the muscle in his jaw flex as he looked at her. If he had a response to that, she would never know. Because at that moment, the car turned into the underground parking garage of the luxury apartment building she had once called home.
She sighed. She assumed it was her home once again.
Home, prison. Same difference.
“Come on,” he said, gripping her hand and leading her toward the elevators.
They rode up in silence. Iris felt like her mind was miles away, but she fought to keep herself grounded, longing for the confidence and power she had felt back in his office.
Their sex life was as explosive as it had ever been before.
It seemed like that part of their relationship came naturally to both of them.
But while she got off on submitting occasionally to what he could do to her in the bedroom, she rebelled against following orders outside of it.
She wasn’t some fetish queen who wanted to be a submissive to a BDSM dom.
This was a terrible idea.
Melancholy settled on her shoulders as the elevator reached his floor. He was incapable of caring for her, just like her parents and siblings. She was alone in this world again, and it hurt.
When the doors slid open, she stepped out into the foyer. And what she saw made her feet come to a sudden stop.
Her eyes bulged, and she let out an audible gasp. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her hands flew up to her mouth. She looked back at him, gaping.
“What? How?” she whispered. "Why?"