Page 21 of Hunter

“Um…” she stammers, completely thrown at being called out before even serving us a drink. She wrings her hands together nervously, and her manager approaches our table, obviously sensing something is untoward.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Devane?” the older gentleman asks. He dips slightly as he offers a hand in Hunter’s direction. My husband ignores the gesture.

“Sadly, I feel there is. This young woman failed to acknowledge my wife this evening. In an establishment such as this, I would have expected better.”

The manager’s face pales as he takes in the fact a staff member has offended the Irish mafia don of London, a man whose reputation precedes him. He mumbles something about personally serving our table and a complimentary bottle of champagne before both of them scurry off into the restaurant. Hunter’s focus comes back to settle on me. He flashes me a cheeky smile.

“That was…” I say before bursting into laughter.

“Deserved,” he replies, his tone firm. “No one ignores my wife without consequence. Now, shall I tell you the story of the teddy bear?”

Chapter eleven

Halcyon Restaurant, Covent Garden

Isabella

I sit, staring at the man I was so desperate to marry two decades ago as he tells me how he retrieved my childhood teddy bear from my mother’s grasp. Oso had been in our family for generations, passed down from mother to daughter when the next child was born. He had been a huge source of comfort to me as a youngster, but when I packed him to take with me as I became a married woman, my mother refused to allow him to leave the house.

She was as attached to the old bear as I was. He probably offered her the same sanctuary as he did me, growing up in a male-dominated environment where women are meant to be seen but not heard. She demanded I remove him from my case and assured me that when I bore a child, I would see him again. That day never came, and I thought Oso was lost to me forever until I saw him sitting on my new bed.

“A few months after our wedding,” Hunter says casually, as if the whole event wasn’t an absolute shit show, “I was summoned to your father’s home in Spain to discuss the predicament we found ourselves in.”

“Predicament? You mean me?”

“Your words, not mine, Bella.” He flashes me a smile before continuing his story, and my stomach flips. “Your father wanted to press you for our marriage to begin as agreed. I told him you weren’t a woman who responded well to heavy-handedness, so we should leave things to settle.”

“And how did that work out for you?” I say, my tone sharp. He cocks his head to one side, his dark eyes roam over my face. His attention causes goosebumps to scatter over my forearms. I cross my arms over my chest and sit back in my chair.

He doesn’t speak immediately. Just watches me intently as he is no doubt considering his response.

“I’m a patient man, Bella,” he says at last. “And you’re here with me. Perhaps it will have paid off.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Always, when it comes to you. After you rejected my attempts at reconciliation in our first year of marriage, I knew the best husband I could be was one that cared from afar.”

My mind automatically wanders back to his attempts at reconciliation over our first twelve months of marriage. He would send flowers and cards. Handwritten notes with his heart and soul poured out, asking for a second chance. I never replied—I couldn’t. He assumed full responsibility for what happened, but I didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t about blaming him. It was about the memories he stood for. A happily ever after forever ruined by our families. I wasn’t ready to move forward from that night.

Although we were estranged, Hunter took his duty as my husband seriously. His first task was to seek appropriate medical care and treatment for the endometriosis that had ruined my teenage years and our wedding night. Medical help that I was never allowed to access under my father’s watchful eye suddenly became available.

The morning after we married, he appointed a private doctor to be my direct contact. Over the years, there were lots of tests, trialed medications, and eventually surgery to bring my symptoms under control. It was genuinely life-changing.

Even today, my doctor monitors my progress to ensure the endometriosis lesions are not growing back. So far, I have been able to live normally since we controlled my illness. I beat it, for now. For that, I am forever grateful. Hunter ensured my treatment was paid for, and my doctor would call me to schedule check-ups. In the background, he has been constantly monitoring my well-being.

“Isabella.” His voice interrupts my tumbling thoughts as the reality of what he has done for me over the years sets in. Hunter has provided me with a home, pushed to help me improve my health, and stepped back when I asked him to. All of a sudden, I feel guilty, and I don’t like it. “Do you want to hear this story or not?”

“What?” I mumble, completely distracted.

“The story about Oso and how I saved him.”

I can’t help it. A laugh escapes with the idea that he rescued a stuffed bear from a kidnapping situation. Hunter is framing himself as a hero.

“Yes,” I say, glancing up from my hands in my lap.

The manager appears with a bottle of champagne, two flutes, and an ice bucket. He sets it up meticulously beside our table, then throws a white serviette over his arm before pouring our drinks. We stare at one another across the perfectly laid table. A candle flickers in a silver stand at the center as we wait for our attendant to leave. A sense of impatience is growing, and the need to communicate is becoming more necessary by the second. The waiter has merely turned away when Hunter starts to speak.

“Well,” he says, “your father and I were discussing how the terms of our arrangement would proceed in his office.”

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