Divorce. Such an ugly word and it carried an even uglier feeling with it. Her heart plummeted. He not only called her bluff and managed to hand-cuff her to him again, but had the situation already resolved post three weeks. Why the delay? He might want to appease his conscience due to her injury, but instinct told her it had to do with more than that.
Much more.
So be it. No talk, just action. Hard, cold decisions. Something she was fast learning from her renegade Doc, as some decked him. She ignored the stab to her heart. It was time to match him. “Agreed.” Her gaze level with his. “Except—”
“Yes?” He was studying every nuance of emotion fleeting across her features, and his intense scrutiny had her nerves twitching.
“I want to keep my apartment in North Hollywood.” She might be out of a marriage in three weeks, but she refused to be homeless into the bargain. Of course, Peter wouldn’t permit that. He’d feel obligated… she’d feel like a kept woman. She tightened her fingers over her handbag; her sense of self-worth could no longer allow that.
Who was Ellie Ross Medeci, besides the good doctor’s wife? Must she always defer to him? Her dream of being a recording artist had been shattered twice over.
First, when the responsibility for her family’s finances fell on her shoulders, she opted for a less-risky study choice, fashion design and marketing. But when cash pared down to the wire, she had to let that go too, and work the library day shift. That, together with moonlighting at the local pub, brought in a decent wage that kept them in a house.
Second, when she married Peter and was expected to behave with a certain sense of decorum as his wife. Which in itself had been far more restrictive, sucking life from her. Did he even know, care? Or would he see her rekindled passion for her own aspirations as a cheap shot to undermine his, even after she’d shelved them for five years?
She sighed. It didn’t matter now, for her well-laid plans had hit the dust. Seemed he was using her escapade as an excuse to unload her. She curled her fingers into fists, and her American grit kicked in. Knowing that shoebox of an apartment was hers gave her a sense of security.
“Why?” he asked.
She shrugged and a sliver of satisfaction rippled through her. At least he was still curious enough to ask. Ammo she might use in the future?
“Not thinking of running away before three weeks are you?” he said. “Three times’ the charm, so I hear.”
She fiddled with the button on her coat, not missing the mockery in his tone. She had already run out on him thrice, after all. “No.”
He studied her beneath his furrowed brows. “Very well.”
“And …” Her stomach dipped, her palms moist, but she forced the words out. “I-I’ll not sleep with you.”
His eyes darkened. Then, he chuckled. “Afraid?”
“No.” She could play cat and mouse too. “You did say it would take some time for me to recover” – she brushed her fingers across her bandaged brow – “and with headaches coming on …” She allowed her words to trail away and watched him from the corner of her eye.
A pause then, “Done.”
Disappointment washed over her. He agreed so quickly. At the least, she hoped, she’d have to convince him. But no. Dr. Medeci knew his mind, knew what he wanted, and got it. She wondered if she imagined his heart beating in time with her own anytime during the last five years.
“Go-ood.” The word stumbled from her mouth.
Was it? Peter doubted it. Dangerous would be how he’d dub it. His personal and professional lives were pitted against each other and about to detonate. When he caught the look of consternation on her face, he almost retracted his cruel words. But then, her brittle words smacked him in the solar plexus, a reminder he could lose all. He couldn’t afford going soft on her. His next move had to be right on target… too many others would be slammed if he didn’t coup the Chairmanship of the Medical Board.
A nerve battered his cheek with brutal force.
He thrived on the edge on a daily basis, but hadn’t thought he’d have to tread the high wire with Ellie too. He drew air into his lungs; it expanded and burst from his mouth in a violent sound. Had the sweet, loving girl he married been an illusion? Had they gotten to her? Would she topple his political plans?
He gulped down the bitter taste scarring his throat. He had to know.
“Will you be ready to leave in a few minutes?” He caught a speck of pain in her eyes, but she fluttered her lashes and it vanished. A trick of the light, he concluded.
Why put himself through this? Why not just send her packing now? Because he’d fought for everything he had in this life, including Ellie. And he didn’t like to lose. If he had to give her up, then he’d do it his way, by his rules and in his own time.
“Have you anything else to take than what you’re wearing?”
“No,” she murmured.
A deadly silence.
He took something from his pocket and his whole body seemed to go rigid, the muscles in his neck cording. “This belongs on your finger.” The gold band looped through a string of tiny beads nestled in his palm.
“I-I-I wore it around my neck.” She snatched it from him, wondering if he recognized the necklace he’d bought for her from a street vendor on their first date. Even when she was decked in diamonds for some glam event, she wore it always. “Tips were better if customers thought I was—”
“Single?”
She nodded.
“We won’t have that problem for the next three weeks, will we?”
Silent, she slipped the ring on her finger and dropped the necklace in her purse. Snapping it shut, she tapped the clasp with her forefinger.
Nervous? He doubted it. Most likely, thinking of her life post three-week interlude.
She glanced at the bouquet of roses lying on the bedside table. A heartbeat, a breath, then he took the spray and tossed it to her. She caught it against her heart, and his pulse galloped. When she brushed her lips across the petals, his temperature hiked, the girth of his sex mounting. He shifted to ease the ache, his lab coat hiding the evidence of his desire from her.
War raged inside him. He must be out of his mind. After the hell she put him through, he still wanted her, fantasized … But the way he figured it, he’d seduce her once more and break her spell over him. No longer bewitched by her. Afterward, he’d give her what she wanted—otherwise why ditch out on him, not once, not twice, but thrice?
If she wanted her freedom, he’d oblige. On his terms. His gut recoiled, but he ignored the warning. A muscle pounded his throat. She’d put him through hell on a grill. He was determined to score… on all counts.
“I-I’m ready to leave,” she said, making no move to do so.
Why didn’t she just walk out the door like she’d done three months ago? Because although Ellie Ross Medeci was making a bid for her independence, she was no fool. To be totally free, she had to know how she fared in this test of wills … in this last stand with her husband. Ensure she came out with enough ammo so he could never blackmail her again… how dare he attempt to use her father as a bargaining chip to get to her.
Brave words, Ellie, but it worked… for here you are.
“Bene,” Peter muttered, a tight line slashed across his mouth.
Her heart battled her mind. She must be feeling the effects of her head injury—she was treading dangerous ground to agree to live with him for three weeks. Knowing full well that one touch from him and she’d be lost. But the way she figured it, she’d prove to him that she didn’t need him. Emotionally,