Page 64 of Some Like It Scandalous
He carried his coffee over and hooked out the chair next to hers. Sitting down, he gave her a kind, almost soft look. She waited.
“Two months?—”
“Nope.” She went back to her food and flipped the email to the next note.
He drummed his fingers against the table. “You’re not listening to me.”
“Oh, I listened to you just fine. You’re terribly worried for my safety because of a threat and you want us to take a break for a few months so the press will blow over and thenperhapswemightbe able to see each other…” She glanced at him.
“Exactly. It’s not an ideal situation, but you would be safer.”
“And in this grand plan after we take our break, do we get to see each other every other weekend? Or perhaps one weekend a month? Oh, I know, we schedule alternating holidayswhere we happen to encounter each other…” She paused at his consternated frown. “Seriously, that was your plan?”
“For a short while, yes.” He didn’t sound terrifically happy about her reaction to it.
She decided against throwing her coffee in his face. She rather loved his face. But the eggs would do a lot to spoil his royal dignity. “No.” Flipping to the next email, she picked up her toast and took a bite.
A long huffing sigh. “You’re being impossible.”
“No, I’m being Anna. You’re Armand. I’m Anna. We’re a couple. That means we’re together—not living in distant cities acting like strangers, not meeting accidentally in foreign lands… Together. The whole package. You and me.” She flipped the digital pad closed and dropped the toast on the plate. She wasn’t particularly hungry anyway.
“I could leave tonight. Head to Europe.” Frustration edged his voice, his fingers curling into a fist.
“All right, well, when you get back, I’ll be right here. Unless they change the locks…” That was definitely within his purview. “In which case, I’ll be on the fourteenth floor. Did you know we have three thousand square feet? I don’t think it will look remotely odd if I’m living there.” She rose and leaned over to kiss him softly. “Speaking of which, I have to go to work. I love you. I hope I’ll see you later.”
Tucking her digital tablet under her arm, she walked to the door. She’d forgotten her purse, but she wasn’t about to ruin her exit by going back for it. She let herself out and walked over to the elevator.
Kyle stood inside when it dinged open and he gave her a small encouraging smile. “You play a mean hardball, Miss Novak. Keep it up.”
She grinned and they rode down silently to the fourteenth floor.
ARMAND
“She’s impossible.” Armand paced in front of the window of the hospital room. Richard had finally been released from the surgical floor and security arranged for a private room. It would still be a few days before he could go home.
“Really? Do tell.” His best friend sat up in bed, his bruised face looked like hell—the green and yellow splotches somehow uglier than the deep purple when he’d been admitted.
“She won’t listen to reason. I told her I love her, I’ve told her I want to be with her…”
“Then listen to her.” Richard interrupted the diatribe. “And point of order, I’m pretty sure the words you told me you used were ‘maybe in a few months’ and ‘a jackass who loves you.’ Of course, I’m on painkillers and you’re upset. So maybe I’m wrong.”
Armand glared at him. “You’re extremely blasé about this. I would think after your accident…”
Opening his eyes, the attorney met his glare with a bland look. “That I’d what? Vote for you to continue to make stupid choices? I told you, you get crazy impulsive where she’s concerned. You’re fanatical in wanting to protect her—but has it not occurred to you that the safest place in the world is with you? All the time? You’re constantly surrounded by security and as insane as I think it is, she doesn’t seem to mind.”
He stopped and considered that. Anna hadn’t complained, not once in the entire debacle. She’d been furious with him, shot him with a Nerf gun and told him no—repeatedly. But she never complained about security.
He’d gone to New York on business, three days gone, and when he returned… “Do you know what she did last night?” He changed the subject.
“No, I’m afraid not. I was here last night, watching the 49ers get their asses handed to them by Dallas. What did she do?”
“Movie night. We’ve argued for four days, I leave for three and she comes in last night with wine and pizza—apparently my security takes orders from her now—and romantic comedies. We watchedThe Prince and Me,The Princess Diaries, andAnna and the King.” He expected recrimination or tears or maybe even the silent treatment. But she’d welcomed him with a kiss and a reminder that movie night meant tabling everything. They snuggled together on the sofa for hours.
But he went to bed alone.
Again.
Richard laughed softly. “You are so not winning this fight with her.”
