Five weeks, she thought desperately. Five weeks of knowing him, three weeks of being married to him and already she was crazy. Angry and hurt.
Afraid.
Slamming her hands down on the desk, Caroline stood. Unapologetic that she’d startled Munch.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She didn’t want all this. Less isolation. Less fear. Maybe a family. That’s all she wanted. All she imagined she could have when she’d decided to be something else besides a coward.
Instead he invaded her thoughts throughout the day. He was in her dreams at night. When he touched her, she felt things that she never thought were possible. Making love to him had taken on an importance she’d never believed possible.
And with a few short sentences, he’d wreaked havoc.
Now the fear was back and it made her want to leave him. To go home now before he could hurt her any more.
But she wouldn’t go. She knew she needed to hang on. To fight. For him as much as for her.
The front door opened and Munch leapt up to welcome her master home. Caroline watched as he patted the dog’s head and dropped his briefcase in the foyer. He looked around and saw her. She’d set up her office in the living room.
“Hello.”
She lifted her hand negligently. “Hey.”
“You’ve been working.”
Not really. “Yes. New project. I like to outline first.”
“Have you eaten?”
This was awful. Her heart shouted at her.
But Caroline just shook her head. “There’s some leftover pasta from last night. I can heat it up.”
“I’m just going to change.”
Change, she thought. How about from the cold distant man who was standing in the foyer back into the one who last week had come home after a day of work and lifted her onto the kitchen table and made love to her until she’d screamed with ecstasy?
It might have been minutes or an hour before she heard his footsteps coming down the stairs. Only then did she realize she hadn’t moved from her spot near her desk. Quickly she made her way to the kitchen and stuck her head deep inside the refrigerator so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
The cold began to numb her nose until she was forced to extract the pasta. She jumped when she saw how close he was standing. She opened her mouth to say something curt, maybe even something spiteful, but the words wouldn’t come.
“I’m sorry.”
Slowly she released the breath she’d been holding.
“I didn’t mean what I said last night. I was irritated about something else and I took it out on you.”
“Irritated about what?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I think it does. I’m not an expert but I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to talk about what bothers us.”
His lips thinned and she could see that there was something else bugging him. He didn’t want to have this conversation with her now. He just wanted the argument to be over. This was good, she decided. She was learning him.
“Something happened at work today?”
His jaw twitched and he looked away from her. She watched him shake his head slightly as if debating what he would tell her.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s not that. I don’t know if I should. I need to think it through. Denny did something. I’m not even sure how to describe it. Maybe dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” She thought back to the awkward man she’d met at Anne’s surprise reception. Dangerous certainly wasn’t a word she would have attributed to him. Nervous, though. He’d definitely been nervous.
“Let’s forget it. I wanted to apologize. I’ve done that. I don’t want to talk about Denny. Not until I can get my head wrapped around it. Can we eat?”
Dismissed. As efficiently as he’d tossed her from his bed last night. For one second she thought to press him, instead she bit her tongue. This was a process. Learning him. Learning how to live with him. Learning how to fight, too. Like a book she could only deal with one chapter at a time. This wasn’t over, though. Not by a long shot.
“Dinner was good,” Dominic muttered. She felt a hand reach out to stroke her hair.
He was kidding. He had to be. His hand moved to her shoulder. The invitation was clear but she couldn’t imagine he was making it. Not this soon after last night. His finger ran along her arm gently caressing her skin. She trembled at the contact, but pulled out of his reach.
He sighed. “I take it I’m not forgiven.”
She heard the frustration in his voice and it triggered her anger. She told herself that it was a risk confronting him now. But apparently she wasn’t as patient as she thought she was.
Rolling off the bed, her feet hit the carpet. “I’m not good at this, Dominic. I’m not a confrontational person. I’m an observer. A witness. A writer.” A coward, she reminded herself.
But not tonight. Tonight she had to be brave.
Dominic threw off the covers and stood on the other side of the bed. Naked. Unashamed. Glorious. And pissed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about this tug-of-war we seem to be engaged in. You think I don’t know what you’re doing? I get too close and you push me away.”
“I married you. You live in my house, sleep in my bed. How much closer do you need to be?”
“You kicked me out of your bed last night. I want to know why.”
“I told you.”
“You lied.” She saw him flinch, but she pressed on. “There wasn’t anything bothering you last night. You made love to me like you couldn’t get inside me deep enough and then it was over and you were gone. Still beside me but gone. Last night wasn’t the first time, either. You don’t like to touch me after we make love or hold me. Fine, I can deal with that. But did you know that as soon as you fall asleep you always pull me back in your arms? I’m not a yo-yo, Dominic. Are you scared of what’s happening? It’s okay. I’m scared, too.”
His cheeks flushed but he remained immobile. “I’m not scared,” he said tightly. “I told you up front how this relationship would work.”
“You told me you were a workaholic. I can live with that. As long as when we’re together you let us be together.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “What do you want from me?”
She took a deep breath. Held it and then asked for what she knew she really wanted. “More.”
“More,” he repeated softly. “More? When I’ve already…” He caught himself and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. What’s more? You want me to talk to you about work?”
“No. Not the superficial stuff, anyway. It’s like a practiced speech every time you come home. The office was busy, plans are moving ahead on the government contract. Denny’s behaving strangely. You never talk about the people there. These people who share the biggest part of your life with you. I’ve been down to your office. Talked with them myself just so I could get to know you better. Do you know that Serena has a brother and a niece still living in Mexico and she’s working to get them a visa? Did you know that there are rumors about Denny having a crush on a real live woman?”
“I don’t gossip. It’s not what I consider professional.”
“Oh, please. It’s not about professionalism. It’s about you and your damn control. Everything in its place. Don’t let anyone get too close. I see it in the way you eat, dress and work. But not when you make love. You lose it then, don’t you? That’s why you push me away.”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” His expression was closed. Neutral. As if he were debating with a stranger instead of fighting with his wife. It infuriated her.
