Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Settled on one of the comfy leather seats in the media room, I used the remote control to flick through the movie options on the large TV screen. Over the past three weeks, I’d tried to make use of every room in the oversized house—even the gym, though I had a genuine allergy to exercise.

I grew to love my new temporary home. I really did. But there was something about being mostly alone in such a massive building that sometimes made the quiet feel eerie rather than peaceful.

I wasn’t a person who craved company. I’d lived on my own since I was eighteen. Now I lived with a man who had such an overwhelmingly forceful personality that he seemed to suck the air out of whatever room he walked into. And yet, I’d never felt more alone. But alone was okay. Until you started to feel lonely. Something which crept up on me now and then, just as it had today. So, honestly, I was in a bit of a funk.

I would have visited one of my friends or relatives, but my doing so had apparently become too much of a habit, because they’d started to question if everything was “okay at home,” especially since Dane never accompanied me on the visits.

They bought my assurances that all was fine. Well, Ashley wasn’t so easily convinced, but she didn’t push me on it. Still, I figured I had to do a better job of playing the part of happy wife, and that meant not leaving my husband at home alone all the time—even though he’d no doubt prefer that.

Not once in the times I went to visit my foster parents did Heather turn up. I wasn’t sure if she was simply busy seducing her new boyfriend into leaving his wife or if she was actively avoiding me. If it was the latter, it wouldn’t be that she worried I’d confront her over the email—she loved to be confronted—it would be that she thought I was gloating over my new financial situation.

Heather seemed to view me as some sort of threat to her self-image. She was driven to have more than me; to have better. As she had money, designer clothes, and an expensive car, she seemed to feel that she’d outdone me. But now that I was married to Dane, she’d probably feel that I’d one-upped her. As she tended to judge me by her own standards, she’d also believe I wanted to rub it all in her face.

Well, I didn’t.

She was probably also annoyed that her sly little email hadn’t been important enough to warrant an instant response. She’d hate that more than anything. It made her feel insignificant when her efforts to get a reaction failed.

I doubted she’d miss the upcoming reception, though. She’d want the chance to cause a scene. She’d get her wish, since I couldn’t not invite her without offending her parents.

Chris and Miley had managed to secure the botanical garden as the party venue—they hadn’t wasted any time in getting started on the preparations. They’d even created a website that had everything on it for the guests—dates, venue details, maps, dress code, etc. I hadn’t known people did that sort of thing. But then, I hadn’t attended a lot of weddings.

Initially, I hadn’t been all that interested in the reception, but the planners had sucked me right in with their excitement and enthusiasm. Plus, I figured that there was a chance this might be the only wedding reception I ever had, so I might as well make it a good one. I wanted to one day marry and have kids, but lots of people wanted that future. They didn’t always get it.

Eager to see in person the venue we’d selected, Dane and I had ambled through the botanical garden and wandered around the hotel itself one Saturday afternoon. Both places were an utter delight, and I loved Chris’ “vision” of what he’d do to the garden for the reception.

The only time Dane and I really spent together outside of work was when we were coordinating with the planners over flowers, the food menu, and all that jazz—he never missed a meeting, to his credit. We’d also attended a brief tasting session with the caterer he’d chosen.

Chris and Miley also booked me in to see “a bridal couture queen.” I took Maggie, Melinda, Ashley, and Hanna along—they’d insisted on coming. The boutique offered a selection of truly breathtaking intricate gowns and, as Chris had promised, some beautiful alternatives to wedding dresses. All were designer, though, so they were also super expensive.

It hadn’t seemed right to spend so much money on a dress for a fake wedding reception, but I’d agreed to try on a few, since we’d gone all that way. When I’d modeled a particular one, the girls had started crying and declared “that’s the one!” I had to admit, I’d loved it. So I’d agreed. I’d also offered to reimburse Dane, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

Hanna had moaned when I vetoed having a post-wedding-bachelorette party, but I’d allowed her to talk me into having a simple girls’ night in nearer the date of the reception. As the date fell in late autumn, Chris had suggested adding décor such as pumpkins … which made me think of Halloween, and how I’d probably be spending it alone.

I loved Halloween. Loved driving past the houses in my neighborhood and seeing all the pumpkins, spider webs, and other aesthetics. Loved answering the door to trick-or-treaters and seeing all the creative costumes. Loved hanging up spooky decorations of my own, even if only to get into the Halloween-spirit.

Every year, Ashley and I would dress up for fun and have a scary-movie marathon while drinking punch and munching on junk food. We’d also hand out candy to trick-or-treaters and tease Tucker for jumping and flinching during the horror movies.

Dane was uninterested in most holidays, so he’d probably hole up in either his home office or the one at o-Verve. No trick-or-treaters would come all the way out here, so there’d be no costumes to admire. I had no decorations to hang, since mine were in storage and Dane was unlikely to have any of his own. It would probably just feel like any other day.

I narrowed my eyes and twisted my mouth. Maybe I could still spend it with Ashley and Tucker. Would it look weird if Dane and I didn’t spend our first Halloween together? Maybe.

It was thinking of Halloween that had inspired me to grab some candy and go watch a scary movie in the media room. So far, none of the selections had jumped out at me.

Hearing hinges creak, I twisted and watched as Dane strolled into the room.

Stopping near my seat on the front row, he looked from the TV screen to the glass of wine in the cupholder to the bowl of candy on my lap. “What are you doing?”

“Searching for a movie.”

“You look like you’re sulking.”

“That, too.” I shoved a piece of candy in my mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“I love Halloween.”

He frowned. “And that bothers you?”

“No, it bothers me that I probably won’t celebrate it this year. I’m in a funk, ignore me. Did you need something?” Because it wasn’t like him to seek me out.

“I came to bring you this.” He held up my cell phone. “You left it in the kitchen. I doubted you’d done it on purpose.”

I shot him a grateful smile and took it from him. “Thanks. That’s the one thing about your house that drives me crazy.”

“What?”

“If I lose something, I know there’s an endless number of places it could be. Tracking the object down can sometimes take a while.”

“You’ll get used to it.” His gaze moved to the TV screen. “What are you watching?”

“I don’t know yet. Something scary. I’d invite you to join me, but you’ll say no, and I’m too emotionally fragile right now to handle the rejection.”

One corner of his mouth quirked just a little. “Right.” He left the room.

I shoved yet another piece of candy in my mouth and turned my attention back to the media screen. After scrolling through yet more options, I finally settled on Insidious and sank deeper into my seat. I’d watched the moviedozens of times, but I loved it.

It had only been playing for a minute or so when the door swung open and Dane reentered. I frowned when he sat two seats away and positioned his laptop on, well, his lap. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Working,” he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

“In here?”

“Yes. Then you won’t be on your own, which seems to be what’s truly bothering you.”

I swallowed. “Okay. Well. Thank you.”

Without looking away from his laptop screen, he inclined his head.

“Have you never thought of unplugging from technology for a few hours when you get home? You’re always on the clock, you never seem to wind down. It’s not good for you.”

He frowned at his laptop screen. “I don’t have time to wind down.”

Nor did he seem to have any inclination to do it. “Okay.”

“I was talking to Chris over the phone earlier. He mentioned that the dress you bought for the reception is perfect. Then he asked me if I liked the color brown. The dress isn’t brown, is it?”

I smiled. “No, he’s just messing with you. He’s got a weird sense of humor.” I tossed another piece of candy in my mouth. “And, just so you know, I’m keeping the dress after this is over.”

“What do you intend to do with it?”

“Splash fake blood all over it and use it as a Halloween costume next year. It’ll be epic.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re supposed to tell me I can’t stain a designer gown with fake blood and use it as a costume.”

He shrugged. “It’ll be your gown, not mine.”

I sipped my wine. “I’d keep it for my real wedding, whenever that might happen, but I figure that would be in poor taste. And probably bring me bad luck.”

His gaze met mine, broody and unreadable. “Your real wedding?” he echoed, his tone utterly flat.

“Uh-huh. Unlike you, I don’t want to be all by my lonesome for the rest of my days on Earth.”

“What do you want?”

Someone who could give me the things that Dane would never be able to give, just as Owen had pointed out. “A family,” I replied. “And a cat.”

His mouth twitched. “A family and a cat.”

“Maybe I’ll call it Dane. That’s a cat-like name, right?”

He just shook his head and turned back to his laptop.

My mood surprisingly lighter, I settled in to watch the movie. Just as one of my favorite parts approached, I got the weirdest, most indefinable “feeling” and my vision began to blur. My stomach bottomed out, because I knew what that meant.

I straightened, nearly knocking the bowl off my lap. “No, not now.”

“What?”

My pulse quickening, I shuffled forward on my seat and put the bowl on the floor, knowing I wouldn’t have long before I was out of commission. “I’ve got to get to my room.”

“Why?” Dane appeared in front of me. “Vienna, what’s wrong?”

Seeing double of him—hell, of everything—I blinked hard. “It’s just a migraine, but they can get bad.” Already, the world was beginning to spin around me, and my head felt so freakishly heavy it was hard to hold it up. “Double vision. Vertigo. Muscle weakness. Sometimes nausea and head pain, too.” The symptoms tended to creep up on me one at a time but in fast succession.

I pushed to my feet, and my knees wobbled. “Shit.”

Dane scooped me up. “I got you. Come on.”

I weakly fisted his shirt as he carried me out of the room. “Listen, I won’t be able to move much, and my speech will get all slurry. It’s normal. Just leave me on the bed. It’ll all wear off.”

He didn’t say anything. He just carried me through the house and into my room, where he pulled back the satin coverlet and then very carefully lay me on the bed. “You have pills for these migraines?” he asked.

“Nightstand drawer.” The words came out low and garbled. Feeling like someone had sucked every bit of energy out of my system, I closed my eyes and lay there like a heavy weight. Despite being mentally alert and not in the least bit sleepy, I couldn’t fight the physical lethargy.

Worse, the whole world-spinning-around-me sensation didn’t cease when I lay down. No, it left me with the most godawful feeling. Like I was lying on a rocking boat.

“Sit up. Take these.” Dane helped me rise just enough to take two pills with a glass of water he must have gotten from the bathroom. “Good girl.” He eased me back down on the bed and then sat beside me, leaning against the headboard.

I would have again told him that he didn’t have to stay with me, but I knew the words would have come out all slurry and faint. I hated the migraines. Hated how they left me feeling so drained that everything felt like an effort—even the simple process of breathing in and out. Like there was a freaking truck sitting on my chest, crushing it.

There was a whirring sound that I recognized as the electronic shades lowering. Although my eyes were closed, I felt the difference in the lighting.

I curled into a ball—a move that was much harder than it should have been. Not only had my muscle control gone to shit, my entire body felt like it weighed of lead.

When minutes went by and no head pain or nausea came along, I silently thanked the universe. Especially since I really didn’t want to hurl in front of Dane. I had my pride.

The familiar sound of his thumbs tapping on a cell phone screen told me he was probably working in some capacity. Typical.

I kept thinking he would get up and leave at some point, but he stayed. And although it really wasn’t necessary for him to be there, it … well, it was touching that he’d chosen to stay. He’d no doubt leave when he was satisfied that I was sleeping. Now that the pills had really started tokick in, it wouldn’t be long before I dozed off.

Fingers slid through my hair and gently glided along my scalp, but not even the pleasure of Dane’s touch was enough to hold off the tug of sleep. It soon swept me under.

When I next opened my eyes, the room was lightish, courtesy of my sunrise alarm clock. I snuggled beneath the bedcovers and inwardly groaned. I felt groggy as all shit. Migraine pills, I thought as the fog of sleep began to dissipate. They always had this effect on me. Well, at least the unnatural fatigue and boat-rocking sensation had faded.

I rolled over … and stilled. Because I wasn’t alone. He’s still here. He hadn’t left me.

He was also asleep.

I doubted he’d meant to stay the whole night, or he’d surely have laid down. Instead, he’d placed his pillows behind him so that he could lounge more comfortably in a half-sitting position. His phone was still in his hand, as if he’d dozed off while … doing whatever he was doing.

My heart squeezed. See, he wasn’t a stone-cold, selfish bastard. If he was as bad as many believed, he’d have simply helped me to bed and then left without giving it a second thought. Hell, he wouldn’t have joined me in the media room.

It was no doubt creepy that I just lay there watching him sleep, but whatever. The line between his brows didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t imagine Dane ever looking peaceful, not even in sleep. My fingertips tingled with the temptation to smooth away his frown … or maybe to trace the strong line of his jaw. But I kept my hands where they were.

He allegedly had an issue with sleeping in the same room as others, and yet here he was. I didn’t really know what to make of that. Maybe he just didn’t like having other people in his bed with him. Maybe he was fine sharing a bed if said bed wasn’t his own. Maybe he simply had bad nightmares and didn’t want anyone to witness them.

My alarm soon went off. His eyelids flipped open. Didn’t flutter, didn’t weakly lift. They shot open like he’d been whacked across the head.

I licked my lips. “Morning.” The word came out husky with sleep. “Any chance you could switch that alarm off?”

Dane did as I asked and then studied me with slumberous dark eyes. “How’re you feeling?” he asked, his voice thick.

“Better.”

“Migraine’s gone?”

“Yes.” I bit my lip. “Thanks for staying with me. If it happens again, though, you really can just leave me here. I’ll be okay.”

“Hmm.”

I yawned. “I’m guessing you didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I was going to leave after a few hours, but then your muscles started spasming. It mostly happened in your hands and feet, but I was worried you were going to have a seizure.”

I winced. “Forgot to warn you about the spasms, sorry.”

“I didn’t know you had migraines. You’ve never had any at work.”

“They usually happen in the evenings. I only have them, like, every six months or so.” Anyone who suffered them on a daily basis had my total admiration, because I’d never cope.

“Have you had them since you were a child?”

“No.” Feeling a little stiff, I forced myself to sit up. “I had my first when I was nineteen.” Melinda had shit herself when my speech went slurry. She’d thought I was having a stroke.

“I’ve never had a migraine.”

“Never? Really? Not even a teeny, tiny one?”

He shook his head.

“The devil’s luck,” I mumbled.

He slid off the bed and pocketed his phone. “You going to be okay to go to work?”

“Of course. But it’s sweet that you’d ask.” I flicked back the covers. “As is the way you softly snore.”

“I don’t snore.”

Probably not, but it was fun to poke at him. “I heard you with my own ears.”

“You heard wrong.” He turned and strode toward the door. “Now get ready and meet me downstairs. We’ve got a hectic day ahead of us.”

“Don’t I know it,” I grumbled. It was the story of my life.