Dylan (Bowen Boys, #3)(43)
“He said he’s older than Lucius. Much he told me, but not how old. I don’t know why, but I do believe him.” She sat on the bed and bounced. “Come here and sit with me and tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” But he didn’t go near the bed. “I was just having a conversation with you.”
He heard the bite of his voice and took a deep breath. He wasn’t even sure why he didn’t want to talk to her about it. He went to the window and looked down over the city. They could see the Pentagon from there, and he watched as the lights twinkled.
“All right. Then we’ll play this your way.” She stood up and grabbed her overnight case. “When you’re finished sulking and feeling sorry for yourself, I’ll be in the tub. I have a desire to wash you off me.”
The door slammed shut, and he winced. He hadn’t meant to make her mad, and now that he had, he wanted to make it up to her. She was his wife, damn it, and this was their first night together as man and wife, and he had f*cked it up. He looked out the window again and thought about what he’d done.
“Fuck.” He grabbed up the phone and called room service. “I would like to have dinner sent to our room, please, and champagne. Also, do you think it’s possible to get a couple dozen lilies brought up?”
“Yes, sir. Right away on the flowers. What is it you and the missus would like to eat? The kitchen is always open, and we have a large variety of dinners to choose from.” He reached for the menu.
After he ordered, he asked for it to be brought up as soon as possible. The man said it would be less than half an hour on the flowers and food. Dylan told him that would be great and hung up. He called Monica next.
“I need to know what happened when Khan converted you. I want…we’re thinking about it, and I don’t have any answers other than the bits and pieces I’ve gotten from you and Caitlynne.” Dylan sat down and closed his eyes. “I pissed her off, and I need to make it up to her.”
“On your wedding night? Oh, Dylan, you idiot.” He didn’t need her help if she was going to be nasty, and told her so. “You want my help, you’ll bring it down a notch. And if this is how you pissed off Jack, I don’t blame her.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I asked her if she wanted to be converted, and she said yes, and now I’m…. Christ, I don’t want to lose her. What if I f*ck this up for us, and I lose her?”
Monica told him step by step how Khan had converted her. By the time she was finished, he was more terrified than before. She told him that if he loved her, and she was sure that he did, he’d not screw it up.
“But you have to remember that you can’t stop no matter how much she begs you to. If you do, she’ll bleed to death.” She was quiet for several seconds. “You’re going to do it tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yes. She wants to start our life out right. What the hell was I thinking even suggesting this?” Monica laughed. “You know this really isn’t all that funny. I want this to work.”
“Then it will. And the reason I’m laughing is because you being unsure is funny to me. You’re the cockiest, most self-assured Bowen of all of you. I mean it. You do what you want, when you want, to who you want. It’s just great to see you so lost. And you’ve no idea how proud you’ve made me by asking for my help.”
A few minutes later he hung up. The knock at the door startled him for a few seconds before he remembered the food. Having the waiter set it up on the nice table, Dylan tipped him and took the flowers to the bathroom door and knocked.
“Go away.” He cringed. He’d f*cked up really badly. He knocked again and turned the handle. It was locked. Leaning his head against the door, he tried to talk to her.
“I’m sorrier than you can ever know. I screwed up, but I’m willing to start over.” The door jerked open so quickly he nearly fell into the room. But his tongue got all tangled up around what he was going to say as she stood there, as beautiful and as naked as he’d ever seen her.
“You pissed me off.” He could see that he had and nodded. “It’s our f*cking honeymoon and you pissed me off, so now I’ve been sitting in this tub for the past thirty minutes crying. I hate to f*cking cry.”
“I love you.” He shoved the flowers at her and took a step toward her. “When we got here, all I could think about was what would happen if I messed up. If I did something wrong and I hurt you, or killed you even. I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t do that to us.”
“Then why the f*ck did you even bring it up?” He nearly shrugged but thought better of it. She didn’t look to be armed, but he wasn’t sure she still couldn’t hurt him. Dylan reached over, grabbed a towel, and handed it to her. He couldn’t think with her like that.
“Can you please put this on?” He tried his most charming grin. “I can’t think when you look like a sex goddess to me.”
She snatched the towel and, thankfully, wrapped it around herself and not his throat. “Is all you think about sex? I swear to Christ, I’m going to be pregnant if you don’t learn to keep that thing under some control.”
The thought of her swollen with his child had him reach for the doorjamb. Pregnant. He’d never thought of her carrying his child, their child, and realized that he wanted that very much. He reached for her, and she slapped his hand away. Well, that might happen if he ever got to touch her again. Dylan thought about what Monica had told him about changing Jack.