An Inconvenient Husband

She felt a sudden constriction in her throat. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she said.

Blake frowned. “How could you not know?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I... you never told me you felt about him that way.”

She’d known they’d liked each other, of course. What she hadn’t known was the extent of Blake’s feelings for her father. Blake’s own father had left him and his mother when Blake had been five. He’d seen him all of three times since.

She drained her glass. She was exhausted and her head felt dizzy with the whiskey. Her capacity for rational thought and decisive action was severely limited, so for the moment she had little choice but to go along with what Blake suggested.

He gestured to the bathroom door. “Have a shower. It will make you feel better. There’s a bathrobe behind the door.” He picked up the phone. “Are you sure you don’t want something? A cup of mint tea with honey, maybe?”

Her heart made an odd little leap. She swallowed. “All right, yes. I’d like that.” Mint tea, after all, was good for the digestion. She came to her feet and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the cool tile wall and took in a deep breath. So he remembered she liked mint tea with honey. What did that mean except that he had a good memory? They’d been married for two years. Surely he remembered things about her likes and disk likes. After all, didn’t she remember plenty about him?

She stripped off her clothes, taking in the sumptuous bathroom, the marble floor, the thick fluffy towels and the array of luxury toiletries, compliments of the hotel.

She filled the tub and put in some fragrant bath oil. Why take a shower when she could have a leisurely bath? It would relax her; it always did.

Except this time. Her head was too full of fearful questions and nervous apprehension. Would her father really be all right? What about her being in this room tonight? She felt like a nervous wreck thinking about being alone with Blake.

Blake who was still the same, and yet so different. He was still the same utterly attractive, man she had fallen in love with. He was also harder and colder. And the shine of laughter in his eyes was no longer there.

A knock came on the bathroom door and startled her. “Your tea is here. You want it in there?”

Her pulse leapt. “No, thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.”

She let the tub drain, turned on the shower and shampooed her hair and rinsed off. It was good to feel clean again. The huge towel felt soft and luxurious. She wrapped another towel around her wet hair and pulled on one of the two hotel robes behind the door. Bundling up her clothes, she went back into the bedroom.

“Do you think we can get these washed by tomorrow morning?” she asked.

He glanced up from his newspaper. “Sure.” He reached for the phone. “Anything else you need? A toothbrush?”

She nodded. “Please.” She sat down at the table and poured the tea from a small pot and stirred in some honey while Blake was on the phone. Her body felt tense, her nerves frayed. She sipped the hot tea, surveying the dishes on the table, as yet covered and untouched. He had waited for her before eating. Always the gentleman. She moaned inwardly. Oh, God, she didn’t want to think about the past, about what had been.

He put the phone down and sat across from her at the table and took the covers off the plates, exposing an Oriental noodle dish with huge shrimp and a salad.

“It looks good,” she said for something to say.

“You can have some if you like.”

“No, thanks.” She sipped the fragrant tea. “You remembered I like mint tea,” she heard herself say.

His eyes met hers across the table. “Of course I do, Nicky,” he said, his mouth twisting in an odd little smile. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She shrugged uneasily. “I don’t know, I just...” Her voice faltered. “I just didn’t think it would be something you’d remember.”

“I remember a lot. More than is comfortable.” He picked up fork and glanced down at his food.

Her heart contracted. She remembered, too, and it certainly wasn’t comfortable. She stared into her cup, wondering about the sleeping arrangements, what he had in mind. There was only the one bed, king-size as it might be. They could easily sleep in it together and never know the other one was in it.

Sure, sure. She closed her eyes and swallowed more tea. She could suggest she sleep on the floor, or in one of the chairs. He wouldn’t let her. She knew him well enough. There was something terribly unreal about this situation.

“You look tired,” he said, surveying her face.

“I am. I was on my feet practically all day.”

“Tell me about your article.”

So she did, feeling relieved to have her thoughts distracted. “Have you ever eaten snake?” she asked, remembering seeing the creatures for sale in the market that morning—a lifetime ago.

“Tastes like chicken. Quite good.”

She grimaced. “It’s all in my head, I know, but I’m not ready for that adventure.”

Blake had finished his food and leaned back in his chair, only to come to his feet again when a knock came on the door. A smiling maid stated she had come to pick up the laundry. She had barely left when another one delivered a toothbrush.

As he once more closed and locked the door, Blake tossed Nicky the toothbrush. “If you want to go to sleep, go ahead. Would it bother you if I watched the news on TV for a while? I’ll turn it low.”

“No, of course not.” It was, after all, his room. “Where do you want me to sleep?” she asked.

He raised a dark brow. “In the bed, of course.”

“And you?”

“In the bed, too. Where else? Plenty of space. I’m sure we can manage. We have done this before, remember?”

Her heart lurched. “That was quite a while ago.” She sounded nervous. “And we were married.”

He gave her an impenetrable look. “Don’t stand there like a frightened virgin, for God’s sake. Don’t worry, I won’t force myself on you. I never have and I won’t now.”

Heat washed over her—a rush of anger, of memories, of embarrassment. No, he had never forced himself on her. All he had to do was smile his special smile, touch her softly, kiss her—anything at all and she was instantly aflame. Oh, God, she did not know if she would survive the night with him next to her in bed. She forced herself to be calm.

“Good,” she said tightly. “I’ll dry my hair and brush my teeth.”

“There’s toothpaste in my toiletry kit, and dental floss. Help yourself.” So cool, so calm.

“Thank you.” She swung around and went into the bathroom, feeling her legs trembling. She saw herself in the mirror, flushed, her eyes bright. A nervous virgin. She was pathetic!

She gritted her teeth, dragged the towel from her head and reached for the dryer mounted to the wall. She switched it on full, using her fingers to comb through her hair and lift it to dry it, the noise of the dryer an odd comfort. Her chest felt tight and for a terrible moment she was afraid she might break out in tears for a reason she couldn’t even fathom. Concentrating on the whining noise of the hair-dryer, she managed to control herself and the moment passed.

Her hair was very short and naturally curly and it didn’t take long to dry. She took the toothbrush from its box and looked around to locate Blake’s black leather toiletry kit, the same functional model he’d had years ago, but probably a newer version. A hairbrush lay beside it. Hesitating, she picked it up and used it to give her hair a quick going over now that it was dry.

The toiletry kit stood open and she took out the toothpaste and brushed her teeth, then searched for the small box of floss. It seemed to be an oddly intimate thing to be going through his kit, but he’d told her to do it. There was nothing but the usual stuff inside—a razor, a can of shaving foam, antiperspirant, aspirin, some first aid cream, his toothbrush and the dental floss. She took it out, cut off a piece and tossed the box back into the kit.

Back in the room she found Blake watching CNN, his shoes and socks off, bare feet propped up on the bed. Even his feet still looked familiar. She’d be able to pick them out of a thousand other pairs.

She stood in front of the bed, hesitating. Now, she could casually take off the bathrobe and slide between the sheets, but it was more than she was prepared to do with him having a front row seat for the show. When they’d been married she’d never worn anything to bed, but they were no longer married and if she was going to sleep in the same bed with him she was damn well going to wear something.

“Do you have something I can sleep in?” she asked. “A T-shirt?”