Page 113 of The Rejected Wife

"How is she?" He nods toward Serene's room.

"She had a peaceful night. We’ll have to wait for the doctor to examine her to let us know about her condition."

By mutual consent, we head down to the cafeteria again for breakfast.

After we’ve ordered, Cilla busies herself with her phone, no doubt, answering messages which must have come in. There are a lot of unopened messages and emails on my phone too, but they’ll keep.

"Arthur’s worried about all of you. He wants you back in London ASAP." Connor takes a sip of coffee.

"Me too."

Connor’s phone vibrates. He pulls it out and makes a face. "Speak of the devil." He answers the call and listens, then looks at me. "He’s here."

He holds the phone out to me.

My grandfather is the last person I want to speak to. When I hesitate, my wife takes the phone from Connor. "Hello, Grandad."

I frown. I’ve never called Arthur that. It’s always Arthur or Gramps.

She listens, and nods. "Yes, she’s better. The doctors said she’s out of danger. But we’re waiting for her to be examined to find out when she’ll be discharged."

I hear the old man’s voice at the other end of the line. I’m too far away to make out the words though. She listens intently, then nods again. "Yes, of course, I’ll call you and let you know when we’ve taken her back to the resort."

She listens some more.

"No, no. There’s no need for you to come. Tyler has it under control." She shoots me a glance.

I frown, a question in my eyes, but she shakes her head, indicating she’ll tell me about it after the call. At least, that’s what I assume. I accept this telepathic connection we seem to have formed somewhere along the way.

"Of course, Grandad, nice to speak to you too." She disconnects the phone, hands it over to Connor, and levels a glance at me.

"What?" I growl.

"Didn’t think you’d be afraid to talk to Arthur."

I scoff. "Not afraid, simply discerning. The man has a way of getting involved in things he has no business being involved in."

"He was worried about Serene."

The knot of discomfort in my chest eases a little. "He does love Serene," I confess.

"He wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help, is all."

"You told him I was handling it." I lower my chin.

"I meant it. There’s no man more capable than you, Tyler Davenport."

Yet, she hasn’t told me she loves me.I can’t stop the frown that filters across my forehead.

She leans forward in her seat. There’s a plea in her eyes which I could claim I don’t understand except, with this damned intuitive thing going on between us, that would be a lie.

She wants me to give her time to figure things out. To come to terms with everything that’s happened. The way I needed time to process everything when she and Serene came into my life at the same time.

I forced the space between us then. The good thing is, unlike me, she hasn’t asked for physical distance. If she did, I’d agree out of respect for her wishes, but it would be bloody difficult. And to be honest, I’m not sure if I’d be able to comply.

Our gazes meet, and the air between us heats. One thing she can’t deny. Our bodies are tuned in to each other. As if sensing the invisible pull between us, she sways forward. I grab the arms of her chair and haul her closer. She raises her chin; I lower mine and brush my lips over hers. She opens her mouth; I sweep my tongue in. The moment my tongue touches hers, my blood heats, and my groin hardens.

I begin to deepen the kiss, when I hear a loud throat clearing. Connor. I ignore him, until the nurse’s voice reaches us. "Serene is awake and asking for you."

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