Tempted by Her Innocent Kiss (Pregnancy & Passion #3)(26)

There weren’t manuals for this. Certainly no one had ever given her advice on such a matter. She wasn’t good at artifice. She hated lying. But it was what she’d asked him to do. It was what she herself had just decided to do with her friends and family. To the world.

“Where the hell have you been?” Devon demanded as he approached. “I was worried sick. I went in to check on you and you were gone.”

Before she could answer, he put his hand around her elbow and pulled her toward the glow cast from the torches that lined the beach.

She flinched away from the burst of light and he muttered something under his breath.

“Your headache isn’t any better, is it?”

She slowly shook her head.

“Damn it, Ash, why didn’t you come to me? Or take another pill. You should be in bed. For that matter you’ve eaten nothing in twenty-four hours. You’re as pale as death and your eyes are glazed with pain.”

She braced herself as he reached for her again, but his touch was in direct contrast to the tone of his voice. He was infinitely gentle as he pulled her against his side and began leading her back to the suite.

Unable to resist the urge, she laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, trusting him to at least get her safely up the steps. His hold tightened around her and then to her shock, he simply swung her into his arms and began carrying her back.

“Put your head on my shoulder,” he said gruffly.

Relaxing against him, she did as he directed and for a few moments, basked in the tenderness of his hold.

Pretending was nice.

He carried her back into the suite, into the still-darkened bedroom, and carefully laid her on the bed.

“Would you be more comfortable out of your jeans?” he asked. But even as he asked, he was unfastening her fly and pulling the zipper down.

He efficiently pulled her pants down her legs, leaving her in her panties and T-shirt. She lay there, cheek resting on the firm, cool pillow, and willed the pain to go away. All of it.

He sat on the edge of the bed and then turned, sliding his leg over the mattress and bending it so he was perched next to her.

“I’ll get you another pill, but I don’t think you should take it on an empty stomach. It might make you ill. But neither do you look as though you could keep down much so I’ll call down for some soup. Would you like something to drink? Could you handle some juice?”

As he spoke, he smoothed his hand over her hair, stroking gently, and she had to bite her lip to keep the hot tears from slipping down her cheeks again. This wasn’t going to work if she broke down every time he was nice to her or took care of her.

And it wasn’t as if he was doing anything different than he’d done all along. It was one of the things that had made her think he loved her to begin with, even absent of the actual words. He’d been so…good…to her. So caring. Protective. Possessive. A guy couldn’t fake all of that, could he?

“Soup sounds good,” she said faintly.

He continued to stroke her hair and then his hand went still and he frowned. “Is that bothering you? I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure you must be supersensitive to any touch or sound.”

“It was…nice.”

“I’ll be right back. Let me order your soup. You need to get something in your stomach. It might help with the headache, too.”

She closed her eyes as he stood and walked across the room. He stepped outside but she could just make out the low murmur of his voice as he ordered room service. A moment later, he returned and gently laid his hand over her forehead.

“It’ll be here in a few minutes. I told them to put a rush on it.”

“Thank you.”

He was silent for a few seconds and then he said in a voice full of resignation, “I’ll make arrangements for us to fly home in the morning. Perhaps it’s best if you’re back in familiar surroundings. I don’t want you to suffer with a headache the entire week we were supposed to be here. At least at home, you’ll have your family and your friends to surround you and…make you feel better.”

She nodded, her chest heavy and aching with regret. It should have been different. They should have spent the week making love. Laughing. Spending every waking moment immersed in each other.

Instead they’d go back home to a very uncertain future in a world that was suddenly unfamiliar to Ashley. Where she’d have to guard every word, every action.

It frightened her. What if she failed? What if even after she removed the annoyances he still felt nothing more for her than he did now?

Then he doesn’t deserve you, the voice inside her aching head whispered in her ear.

He didn’t deserve her now. The intelligent side of her knew and accepted this. But she wanted him. Wanted his love, his approval. She wanted him to be proud of her.

If that made her an even bigger moron than she’d already been, she could live with that. What she couldn’t live with was just walking away without seeing if their marriage could be salvaged.

“It will be better when we get home,” she whispered.

His hand stilled on her hair but he remained silent as he seemed to contemplate her words. His expression was grim and tension radiated from his body in waves.

Then there was a distant knock and he rose once more. “That’ll be the food. Just stay here. I’ll wheel the cart in and we’ll get you a comfortable spot made up so you can eat in bed.”