Page 64 of The Rejected Wife

All of these thoughts run through my head, along with anger at myself for sending Priscilla away in the first place. Now, I'm nervous that when I spring my proposal on her, she’s going to turn me down. If she does…She won’t. She can’t.I’m going to make it so irresistible that she has to accept it.But if she doesn’t?Sweat breaks out on my brow. I shove aside the churning in my guts, and when I say, “Leave it,” it comes out on a snap.

Priscilla seems taken aback, then manages a smile. "It’s no problem. I’m heading back into the kitchen, and?—"

"You don’t need to do it. I already pay someone else to help with the cleaning, as you’re aware.” Again, my voice comes out harsher than intended. I curse myself, but the damage is done, for she stiffens. The glass that she grabbed slides out of her grasp. It hits the table, but before it can bounce off, Connor grabs it and rights it.

"Thank you," she says in a low voice.

“You’re welcome.” He flashes her another smile, this time apologetic—on my behalf—and I want to bury my fist in his face.Tosser.

She turns on me. “Thanks for the clarification.” She huffs. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Anger sparks in her eyes, making me feel like a heel. Which, in turn, makes me even more pissed off.At myself.

She leaves the glasses where they were, then spins around and walks out, her spine rigid. Her dress stretches across the ample curves of her butt in a way that draws my attention. I look around to find I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Again, except for Nathan, who’s glaring at me. The other three are watching her exit, and goddamn, that’s the last straw.

"Stop looking at her like that," I bite out.

"Like what?" Connor asks in an innocent voice.

"You know what I mean!"

"You calling dibs, Davenport?" James drawls. "Because if you aren’t…"

Anger squeezes my rib cage. I know he’s yanking my chain, but goddamn, if I can’t stop myself from taking it seriously. I throw down my cards and glare around the table. "She’s out of bounds, you bastards. If I see any of you looking at her with anything other than respect, I’m going to kick your arse all the way back to whichever hole you climbed out of, you feel me?"

Brody whistles, then slowly nods.

The others, too, seem to realize I’m being very serious, for James jerks his chin. "Message received, mate."

Connor leans back in his seat. "For someone who’s sweet on her, you have a funny way of showing it."

"Whaddya mean?" I snap.

"She was doing a nice thing by bringing us food to eat—food, by the way, which smells and tastes delicious." He dips a fry in the mayonnaise—bet its low fat—and pops it into his mouth. He chews and swallows, then stabs his finger at me. "If you’re not going after her and apologizing, I’m going to have to assume you don’t have the balls."

He’s right, of course. I should tell her I’m sorry for behaving like a dickhead. I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve spoiled any chance of her listening to my proposal.

"Fuck." I run my fingers through my hair.

Connor nods. “You did fuck that up, royally.”

"Fine. I’ll go." I jump up and walk out the room.

I head to the kitchen to find she’s not there. Also, the counters have been wiped down. Every surface is gleaming. She didn’t have to do that, either.

The cleaner leaves by six p.m., but given there’s a kid in the house, I normally end the day with dishes in the sink and half-eaten takeaway cartons—none of which has happened since Priscilla got here. And I haven’t thanked her for it. Not once. I kept telling myself I wouldn’t take her for granted but, apparently, I have. Without even realizing it.

My blood still boils from how jealous I felt when the other men watched her or spoke to her. I might try to tell myself she’s only Serene’s nanny, but clearly, I was never going to be able to limit it to that when I've always seen her eventually having a different role in both my life and Serene’s. I can blame Arthur for accelerating things, but the truth is, I'm glad he did.

I want this and I can’t keep delaying. What if I've fucked things up too badly by allowing my frustration with myself to alienate her? I need to apologize, and I need to convince Cilla to marry me.Right now.

Where is she, though? Has she already left for her apartment over the garage? The thought has me racing toward the front door. I pull the door open and see her storming across the driveway.

I grab her coat, which she forgot to take in her hurry, and rush after her, calling out, "Priscilla."

32

Priscilla

I keep my head held high as I rush to my apartment, determined not to slip again. I was only trying to be nice. But instead of being grateful, he seemed pissed off.

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