What the Bride Didn't Know. Kelly Hunter
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Trig returned just as their dinner arrived. He gave her a nod, tipped the man for his service and started moving dishes from the room-service cart to the little table for two over by the window.
Lena poured him a wine and another one for herself. She didn’t ask him about his walk straight away. Given the tension that had followed him into the room, she figured she might hold that totally innocuous question in reserve.
‘You taken any painkillers?’ he asked, not an unreasonable question given how much of the wine she’d drunk. What could she say? It had been a long bath.
‘Not yet. Tonight I’m rocking the red wine instead.’
‘Any particular reason why?’
‘Long day.’ You. ‘New city.’ You. Never want to be on the wrong side of you.
She used to be able to read him just by looking at him. These days she’d have better luck reading Farsi.
Trig took a seat, lifted his burger and bit into it, chewing steadily.
Lena sat opposite, picked at her spicy chicken salad and drank some more wine.
‘When are you meeting with Carter?’
‘Tomorrow at two p.m. at the Nuruosmaniye Gate of the Grand Bazaar. You want to come?’
‘I’ll watch.’
‘From afar?’
‘Not that far.’
‘Play your cards right and I might even buy you a silk scarf.’
Trig smiled. ‘Not my thing.’
‘How’s the burger?’
Trig nodded and took another hefty bite.
The burger was fine.
He looked at her salad and kept on chewing, right up until he swallowed. ‘Get your own,’ he said darkly.
Mind reader. ‘I’ll have you know that this salad’s delicious. Crisp little salad leaves and cucumber. Tasty tomato. All very healthy.’ How was she to know that she’d take one look at Trig’s burger and want something drippy too.
Trig’s sigh was well practised as he broke what was left of his burger in two and held out one half to her.
She took it with a grin. ‘My brothers aren’t nearly such soft touches.’
‘I’m not one of your brothers,’ he said, and something about the way he said it shut her up completely.
Good thing she had the burger to concentrate on. And the wine. And those two little double beds that hovered in her view no matter where she looked.
‘Adrian, is there a problem? Between you and me?’ She hurried on, never mind his frown. ‘Because we’ve been friends a long time and I know I’ve relied on you far more than I should these past couple of years. You’ve been more than patient with me, and I’m grateful, because I know damn well that I don’t deserve anyone’s patience a lot of the time. It’s just...lately I get the feeling that you’ve had enough of me. And that would be perfectly understandable. Is perfectly understandable. And if that’s the case, you need to stand back and let me take care of myself. I can, you know.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘Sure as I can be without actually having done it. I have this family who seem to think I’m fragile, you see. They baby me. They send you to handle me when they can’t. I don’t think that’s fair on you. You don’t have to do that. You have your own life to live.’
He thought on that, right through what was left of his burger, and then he drained his wine and turned his attention to the baklava.
‘Tell me why I’m here,’ he said finally.
That was easy. ‘You’re the family-appointed babysitter, sent to keep me out of trouble.’
‘That’s one reason. But it’s not the main one.’
‘Loyalty to Jared.’
‘Has nothing to do with it.’
‘You have a hankering for baklava?’
‘Not enough to travel halfway round the world for it.’ Trig eyed her steadily and no matter how much Lena ached to look away, she couldn’t. She couldn’t find her breath either.
‘You’re well enough to go chasing after Jared,’ he said finally. ‘I figure you’re well enough to hear me out. Not going to jump you, Lena. Nothing you don’t want. But you need to know that I’m here because I want to be here. With you. Because there’s pretty much nowhere else I’d rather be than with you. You need to know that I have feelings for you that are in no way brotherly. You need to know that I both love and hate it when you treat me like family.’
He took a deep breath. ‘You also need to know what you do to me when you book us into a hotel as husband and wife. Because it gives me ideas.’
She didn’t understand. He’d peppered her with too much information and not enough time to process any of it. ‘I— Pardon?’
‘I want you.’
‘You—do?’
He looked at her as if she were a little bit dim. ‘Yes.’
‘But...you can’t.’
‘Pretty sure I can.’
‘I’m broken.’
‘Nah, just banged up.’
‘I’m me.’
‘Yes.’ He was looking at her as if she were minus a few brain cells again. He was just so...calm.
And she wasn’t. Somehow she had to bring this farce of a conversation under control. ‘How’s the baklava?’
‘Tastes like dust.’
‘More wine?’ She poured him some anyway, whether he wanted it or not, and maybe that wasn’t such a good idea because he drained it in one long swallow. ‘You need to give me some time with this.’
‘Little hint for you, Lena: this doesn’t require much thinking. We’ve known each other a long time. I’ve been trying to impress you since primary school. You’re either impressed or you’re not. You either want me or you don’t.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Yeah, it is.’
‘I saw your body earlier.’ She didn’t know how to say what she wanted to say. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘It’s skin.’
‘It’s still perfect.’
‘Still just skin. You think I can’t see beneath yours?’ He eyed her steadily. ‘You have flaws. So do I. No one’s going into this blind.’
‘Look at me, Adrian. Think of all the things you can do that I can’t do any more. I’d hold you back and you’d come to hate me for it. I’d come to hate me for it. You’d have to be blind to want this.’
‘I’m not blind,’ he said grimly. ‘This can work—you and me. You just have to want it to.’ He sat back in his chair and pushed a hand through his dark shaggy curls. ‘This isn’t going well, is it? You don’t think of me in that way at all.’
‘I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth. God.’ Trust her to push him away when she didn’t mean to. She just didn’t know how to not push him away now that he wanted to get closer. ‘You’re important to me, Adrian. You occupy a huge part of my life and always have done. Aren’t you scared that if this doesn’t work out, we’ll lose everything else we do have?’
‘Scared is watching you slide into unconsciousness for the sixth time in as many hours. Scared is thinking