Page 40 of Entrapped
“I’m due for my shot in two weeks.”
Colson latched onto my throat, working his way up to my ear. “Don’t get it.”
I was giddy. What I’d wanted since I married him would happen, at least in theory. I had no idea how long it would take but we would enjoy trying. His façade was shattering, and he was opening up to me even though there were shades of his former self.
Maybe one of these days I would find the courage to ask him about my grandfather and what transpired. And if he didn’t, I would find out myself.
As we drove into Manhattan that Monday morning, Colson folded his newspaper with a deliberate motion, placing it on the seat beside him. His usual composed demeanor seemed slightly off, and I couldn’t help but notice the tension radiating from him.
“You’ll have a new position starting today,” he announced, his voice calm but carrying an undertone I couldn’t quite place.
I frowned, caught off guard. “I was working on an investment package for a client.”
“You can hand that off to one of the other associates,” he replied, dismissing my concern with a wave of his hand.
I straightened my back, sitting up higher in my seat, trying to read the situation. “What will I be doing, then?”
He cleared his throat, a small but telling gesture that made my heart skip a beat. “As an Ashworth, you need to learn everything—what we offer, who our biggest clients are, every financial package we have.”
“Colson, I already know a good amount of information. Why the sudden change?”
He dabbed at his upper lip with a handkerchief, a sign of unease that only deepened my worry. To say I was concerned was an understatement—I was on high alert. Something was wrong, and he wasn’t telling me.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I demanded gently, but firmly. “And don’t lie to me.”
“There is nothing going on,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of its usual confidence. “I just have a bit of a stomach bug.”
Without hesitation, I hit the intercom, calling Gage, our driver. “Gage, we’re turning around. Take us home.”
Colson’s reaction was immediate and sharp. “Absolutely not,” he snapped. “You don’t make demands for me.”
Ignoring the sharpness in his tone, I moved closer, sliding across the seat to sit next to him. I reached out, stroking his hair in a soothing gesture. “I’m your wife, and as much as you think youhold control over me, there are times when you need to submit. Let me care for you. Vaughn can handle whatever you have going on today.”
He softened, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I asked, my voice gentle. “Making sure you don’t wear yourself out?”
He chuckled, a sound that held more exhaustion than amusement. “That’s been a long time coming. I think we need a vacation. We haven’t had one since our honeymoon. Maybe we can go somewhere warm.”
The idea of a vacation, of escaping the pressures of our lives, was enticing. This was the first year of my life where I had the means to go anywhere I wanted, to enjoy a vacation without counting every penny. “Aruba?” I suggested, a hopeful lilt in my voice.
“I was thinking Palm Springs. I own a house there.”
I rested my head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek. “Where else do you own homes?” I asked.
Since we married, Colson had only told me what he thought I should know. I had no idea of all his personal investments or properties but what I could find in the Ashworth Corporation financial files.
“We’ll have to sit down and go over everything,” he said, his tone taking on a more serious note. “In case something happens to me. It’s not a big worry since my attorney has all the information.”
His words made my head shoot up. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned dying. Colson, is something wrong?”
“Nothing, my bride,” he assured me, his voice softening. “I’m just worn down, but it only takes one illness, one accident. You’re protected, even if you don’t get my entire empire.”
His words hung in the air, leaving me with a sinking feeling. We fell into silence for the rest of the trip home, but the unease in my chest grew stronger. I knew, deep down, that this was just another secret he was keeping from me. And I hated how powerless I felt, knowing I couldn’t force the truth out of him. Not yet.
Chapter 17
As soon as we got home, I insisted Colson go straight to bed. He was visibly exhausted, and although he resisted at first, a few tender strokes of his hair and a gentle nudge from me were all it took for him to relent.
