Falling for Her Husband (4 page)

Chapter Seven

“So we’ve moved to New York? Together?” Amber glanced around the beautiful living room of the apartment she and Vince supposedly owned together. She didn’t remember getting it, so she had to take his word that it was theirs.

“We were discussing it. The family has an apartment we keep in the city for when one of us visits for business.” He held her close to his side, his arm loosely wrapped around her waist. “While you’ve been in the hospital, I went ahead and leased a place for the two of us. I hope you like it.”

“It’s beautiful.” One wall was nothing but windows, and the view of the city was spectacular. “I’m so glad you decided to join me here.”

It was one thing she remembered being a sticking point for them when they first married. Considering her career, she needed to be based in New York. And because he helped run the family business of Renaldi Accessories and it was based in Italy…yeah. She remembered being so caught up in the whirlwind of their romance and subsequent quickie marriage, she hadn’t given much consideration to their long-distance relationship until after the fact.

Now, though, it seemed that Vince had solved that particular problem.

“I wanted to be with my wife. I missed not having her around.” He kissed her forehead lightly. He’d been the perfect attentive husband while she remained in the hospital for almost two weeks recovering from her injuries. The hospital released her into Vince’s care and she’d gone home with her husband. A little over a month after the accident and she was so thankful for his being there for her. He’d been a rock during the difficult days.

And there had been many. She’d had surgery on her arm, and the pain and discomfort had been excruciating. When she discovered that the gash on her cheek was far worse than she first realized, she’d sobbed for days. Cried over her lost career, her injuries. She’d cried over her silly vanity that made her believe her life was over, which it so wasn’t.

Thank goodness she had Vince to lean upon, to talk to. He’d helped her through all of it. Listening when she needed it and offering words of wisdom when she wanted them, she’d found herself practically bouncing in her hospital bed when she knew he was coming to see her. Well, she’d bounced as much as she could, considering her injuries.

Thoughtful and kind, always defending her when she had a question for the hospital staff, he was protective and intelligent and passionate and so incredibly handsome. All of the qualities she first fell in love with were still there in her husband. But he didn’t touch her.

Oh, he told her he loved her and held her, but usually only to help her. She appreciated his assistance, his careful care and consideration of her wants and needs. She was mostly mobile, though, with the exception of her arm in a cast, which would remain there for at least another month. Still a bit weak and prone to quick exhaustion, but nothing major she couldn’t deal with.

She was thankful to be home. Well, in her new home. Maybe behind closed doors, and once Vince realized she was really healing, he would be more agreeable to touching her. Holding her, kissing her. She didn’t want passionate, throw-her-on-the-bed-and-shove-her-around lovemaking, though that certainly had its appeal. She just wanted…love.

And she wanted it from her husband.

“Tired?” he asked, his deep voice laced with concern. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes, breathing deep his familiar, intoxicating smell. “Do you want to go to bed?” His chest rumbled as he spoke and arousal trickled through her, warm and heady, but she forced it away. It was silly, how much she wanted her husband. Did he feel the same? Or was he over the honeymoon stage?

“It’s not even two o’clock,” she protested, rubbing her cheek against his chest once. Twice. He felt so good. Was so solid and strong.

“Let’s get you settled in somewhere, then.” He walked her over to a giant overstuffed chair in the living room and took her hand, carefully guiding her into the chair. He grabbed a throw blanket that was on the back of the couch and arranged it across her legs like she was some sort of little old grandma. “Want something to drink?” he asked as he handed her the TV remote.

She studied the remote, the many buttons she had no idea how to work. “Just some water, please.” Setting the remote in her lap, she leaned back against the chair, watching as her handsome husband hustled toward what she could only assume was the kitchen like some sort of dutiful nurse, ready to serve her.

God, she sounded ungrateful in her own mind, but she didn’t want a nurse. She wanted her husband. She didn’t want to sit alone in this chair—she wanted Vince cozied up right next to her. His fingers in her hair, her head nestled close to his neck so she could reach up and kiss him there. Right where he tasted best…

“Here you go.” He stood before her, a bottle of water held out to her, an anxious expression on his face. Had she ever seen him look like this before? Granted, they didn’t know each other that well, since they hadn’t been married long and their relationship had been kind of short, but still.

She didn’t want Vince tiptoeing around her. She knew he was worried and that’s why he treated her like she was made of glass. The amnesia threw him. He’d admitted that to her a few days ago.

Well, they were even in that regard. The amnesia threw her too.

Taking the water bottle from him, she tried to smile her best, brightest grin but it hurt her cheek so she gave up. “Will you sit with me?”

He frowned. “You want me to sit with you?”

“Vince.” She rolled her eyes, unable to fight the frustration any longer. “I missed you. I was scared in the hospital and you were the only one who grounded me. Who made me feel like everything really was going to be okay.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled, looking pleased.

“Yes, well, I also appreciated how careful you were with me, but…I’m almost fully recovered now.” She smiled again, this time a little softer, not quite so wide as she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “And I hope we can resume our…relationship, as it was before?”

His smile faded in an instant. “Before what?”

“The accident? When you weren’t so worried I might shatter into a hundred pieces?”

The smile was replaced with a scowl. “What exactly are you talking about, Amber?”

Was the man playing dumb on purpose? God, she hoped not. “I’m hoping we can resume being…intimate soon.” She lowered her voice. “I missed you so much, Vince.” She didn’t remember much before the accident. From what she could figure out, a solid two or three months before she was hurt just disappeared from her memory. So strange, though Vince tried his best to reassure her everything was fine.

Vince’s scowl vanished, replaced with an unmistakable expression of relief. “I miss you too, Amber. And if you want me to sit with you, I can. The chair is big enough. I’ll have to help you up, though, and settle in first.”

“Let’s do it now.” She set the unopened water bottle on the table beside the chair, holding out her hand so he could take it. He pulled her into a standing position, trying to move past her so he could settle into the chair, and she didn’t get out of his way. He brushed up against her, his hard, hot body touching her soft, warm one, and she swore her knees grew weak.

And not because of her injuries either.

This was what she wanted, what she missed. Being with her husband, cuddling with him, kissing him. She was downright addicted to the man.

“Come on, then,” he encouraged, holding her hand as he sat on the chair. She went down with him, aware of her casted arm as she nestled into the chair beside her husband. He made sure she sat on his right side and she cozied up next to him, her head against his chest as she sat in his lap.

“This is so much better,” she said on a sigh. He grabbed the remote, turned on the TV and started roaming through the channel menu, and she closed her eyes, savoring being so close to her husband.

Finally. So what if he was doing something so incredibly boring as channel surfing? She didn’t think they’d ever sat together and watched TV since they got married. They were always too busy working, traveling or making love.

This, though, in all its banality, felt like absolute bliss.

Vince had been so careful, so cautious around his wife since the accident. The amnesia still lingered and the doctor was unsure if she’d ever gain her full memory back. They’d conducted numerous tests, but all the results came back normal. There was nothing wrong with Amber.

She just couldn’t remember the last three months or so of her life.

Her arm was healing nicely after surgery. A consultation with the plastic surgeon was scheduled in approximately three weeks. She moved more fluidly again and she seemed in better spirits. More like the old Amber.

Well, the Amber he’d first met and fallen in love with.

There were no remnants of the angry, frustrated woman he’d argued with out on the street only a few weeks ago. He still couldn’t believe his luck that she didn’t recall that horrific fight. Her threats of divorce. He hadn’t mentioned what happened, afraid everything might come tumbling back and she’d remember every detail. He couldn’t have that, not now, when their relationship felt back on track.

Amber wanted to be with him, and he wasn’t about to stop her. They could work on this. He could earn her trust, her love. They could find happiness again together. And once they did, then he could be honest and come clean.

It wouldn’t matter by then. They’d be so in love. They might even laugh about their past troubles, it could be so good between them.

“This is perfect,” she said on a sigh. “The only thing ruining it is my stupid cast.”

“You won’t be wearing that much longer,” he reassured, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She smelled amazing. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“How’s your cheek?” The cut still bothered her, throbbing on occasion, and there was even some minor swelling. She didn’t look in the mirror much and he understood why. It hurt, knowing that her career could be cut short. “Do you need any pain meds?”

“I’m fine, Vince. Really. I just need
you
,” she stressed. “I was so tired of being in that stupid hospital.”

“I’m glad you’re home too.” He had plans for them. Big plans. Yes, he’d come to New York to take over the US headquarters of Renaldi Accessories, but he’d asked for a minor leave of absence after Amber was injured, which Matteo had given him. Family always came first for the Renaldis. “The accident…what happened to you scared me.”

She lifted her head, her crystal blue eyes meeting his. His wife had the face of an angel and she’d used it to her best advantage during her modeling career. Even with the bandage on her face and no makeup, she was stunning. He preferred her fresh-faced and natural—he always had. “Will you tell me what happened between us that day? How did I end up stepping in front of a car and getting hit?”

God. No way could he be truthful. He’d have to hedge around the facts. Just knowing he was being dishonest to his wife, the woman he loved, made him break out into a sweat. “You’d just gotten off work,” he started, his voice low, his audience of one completely captivated. She was curious and eager to discover the details that were frustratingly out of her reach. “I came by to meet you.”

“Always the attentive husband,” she added teasingly.

If she only knew the truth. “We got into a bit of a…heated discussion.”

Her face was still pretty even wearing a frown. “Are you saying we argued?”

“Somewhat,” he lied. “It was a minor thing, but you were upset.” More lies. Well, about the minor thing. “You walked away from me and I called your name. I sometimes believe that the accident was—my fault. That you turned when I yelled at you and I distracted you.”

He’d never confessed that. Just lived with the pain these last few weeks as he’d watched her suffer. Agonizing over her finding out the truth, worrying over her injuries, afraid he could’ve been the one who did this to her. Not outright, since he hadn’t been behind the wheel of the car that hit her, but still. He’d distracted her enough to make her do something foolish.

Like run out in front of a speeding car that had the right of way.

Amber lifted herself away from him so she could meet his gaze head-on. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“How do you know?” he asked incredulously. “You can’t say that with such conviction. You don’t even remember what happened.”

“I know that you would never do anything to risk my life. You
love
me. And I love you.” She leaned in so she could deliver a smacking kiss on his lips. “We would never do anything to put each other in harm’s way. So of course it was an accident.”

“But—” He started but she placed her finger over his lips, cutting him off.

“No. An accident. This was no one’s fault.” She traced his lips with her fingertip, her touch so light it sent a shiver stealing through him. He parted his lips and she dropped her hand, brushed his mouth with hers again, softer this time. Lingering. As if she wanted more.

God knew he wanted more. Needed more. He’d missed his wife so damn much.

Reaching up, he cupped her uninjured cheek, holding her to him as he took over the kiss, parting her lips with his delving tongue. She welcomed him, the soft sound of pleasure making his skin tight, and he slid his fingers into her thick, silky hair, holding her to him.

When was the last time they kissed like this? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was he could devour her. Kiss her for hours. Touch her everywhere. Slowly strip off her clothes…

“Sorry.” He broke away from her still seeking lips, feeling like an ass. “We’ve gone too far.”

“What? Are you serious?” The teasing smile curving her lips would be the death of him. He knew it. “We aren’t teenagers with curfews, Vince. You’re my husband. You can do with me what you wish.”

If that wasn’t a bold invitation… “You’re still in recovery, Amber. I can’t push too hard. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m not dead.” She slid closer to him, pressing her cheek to his so her lips rested just beside his ear. “I want you. It’s been too long since I’ve felt you inside me.”