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Leaving his bedroom, I wander into his office, just in case it needs some sorting. I want to make his life easier for him. Show him that he didn’t make a mistake marrying me. I clean up around the shelves, organizing the books and papers that are scattered about. Then, I notice a package of fine cigars on his desk with a note attached to it that says, Appreciate it, doc. And so does my girl.
I frown. I pick up the note, turning it over in my hands, my mind racing with questions. Appreciate what? And what does he mean by ”and so does my girl"?
My thoughts interrupt when I suddenly notice Hugo standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed on me. I didn’t even hear him coming home.
"You’re back early," I breathe, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of him and I realize how much my body missed him. It’s even slightly trembling now from a sudden rush of hormones.”I was just organizing your office."
"I can see that," Hugo says, walking inside. He strides over to the desk, picks up the note, and tosses it into the trash without a second glance. I watch him curiously, but I can’t help but to sense some unease in him.
"What was the note referring to?" I ask.
”Nothing important," he murmurs, avoiding my gaze while frowning. Then, he looks at me then, his eyes softening and I feel like a melting ice cream cone. ”Wanna tell me about your day?" he asks, sitting down in a chair in the corner. He looks tired from being in surgery for hours, but there’s still that raw edge to him that exudes virility.
I nod, my mouth suddenly dry.
"Wanna do it sitting in my lap?" he adds, and my breath leaves me.
I wring my hands, glancing at his lap. It looks inviting, but I’m not sure if I should. I hesitate, my mind racing with doubts.
"I won’t touch you," Hugo says, putting his hands on the armrests, his eyes steady and reassuring and for a moment he reminds me of a king in a throne. ”Husband’s honor.”
My breath leaves me. Slowly, I walk over to him and sit in his lap, our eyes never faltering as if we’re seeing each other for the first time. The warmth of his rock-solid body radiates through me, warming me until I could mistake him for a heating lamp.
”I’m not sure what to tell you,” I murmur. ”It wasn’t all that eventful.” I glance at him and his eyes are attentive as if I’m telling him the most fascinating stuff ever. ”But I’ve been thinking about putting up paintings. What color do you like?”
”Green,” he says, staring into my eyes and I flush. What a charmer…
”What about your day?” I ask and before I can stop myself, I blurt, ”Accepted any bribes?”
His face falls. ”Don’t mention that stuff. I don’t even want you thinking about it.”
”But how can you take bribes?” I say in a low voice. ”Don’t you feel guilty?”
”No. My patients come to me because they know what I’m like. And I’ve never performed a single procedure against someone’s will…” His voice cracks and I raise my brows. But then he shrugs.
”And it’s not all bad. Sometimes parents pay me, when the waiting list is too long at other hospitals,” Hugo says. "One of my patients today was a little girl. She reminded me of you."
"How so?" I ask, tilting my head slightly.
"She was brave," he says, a small smile playing on his lips. "Even though she was in pain, she didn’t cry. You were the same the first day I met you."
”I think you’re giving me too much credit,” I say.
He shakes his head. ”I don’t think you give yourself enough," he insists, his voice firm. ”That asshole must’ve taken a lot of spark away from you.”
”There’s still a little bit left,”I whisper. ”Saved for you.”
The tension between us rises, a palpable energy crackling in the air. Hugo shifts slightly, and I can feel his gaze on me, intense and probing. For a moment, I think he might kiss me, and my heart hammers in my chest.
He reaches out, his hand hovering near my cheek, and panic surges through me. I fly off his lap, stumbling in my haste to get away.
"Pamela, wait," he calls after me, but I’m already running into my bedroom, slamming the door closed behind me. I’m so embarrassed, so frustrated that I overreacted but it was automatic. Pure instinct. I just hope I didn’t make him feel as if he crossed a line, but my nerves are still too frayed.
I lean against the door, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My heart is racing, and my mind is a whirl of confusion and fear. I press my hands to my chest, trying to calm the wild beating of my heart.
I don’t know what to think, don’t know how to feel. We almost touched, almost kissed. I wanted it but I’m not ready and then a horrifying thought crosses my mind. What if I’ll never be ready?
***
