He caught hold of her hand. “Chérie, you are babbling nonsense. I think perhaps you have drunk too much wine and not eaten enough dinner. Shall I order the moules frites again? Or perhaps a steak?”
She pulled her hand away, poured another glass of wine, and stood up to pace around the room. “We could always go for unreasonable behavior. So long as it’s uncontested, they don’t take much notice of what you say. I expect I could think of some of your behavior that would qualify as unreasonable. Or you could list mine.”
Emile folded his arms over his chest and watched her. She’d almost forgotten he was in the room. He could imagine her like this at work, carefully assessing options, thinking through possible scenarios, talking people around without them even noticing. No wonder she often forgot to eat lunch, getting carried away with what she was doing. She needed someone to remind her to stop once in a while. To eat a sandwich, take a break, have some fun. He liked doing that for her.
“What do you think?” She was looking at him, eyebrow raised in question.
Emile shook his head. “Whatever you prefer.” He didn’t care about the damned divorce. She was the one who knew about the legal stuff, and he trusted her to arrange things.
“Chinese food, then.” She pulled out the menu from the pile he kept on the mantelpiece. “Chili beef for me. You?”
They were discussing takeaway food now? How had that happened? He ran a hand over his face and attempted to get his brain working again.
Theresa was still waiting for an answer. “Um, kung po chicken.”
“Rice? Prawn crackers?”
“Pork balls. And seaweed.”
“You know, in China they use actual seaweed.”
“Not here?”
“Not usually. Cabbage.”
“Disappointing.”
“I know.”
She picked up the phone and ordered the food.
“I can’t stay long after dinner,” she warned him when she put the phone down. “I’ve got to be back in the office tomorrow and there are a couple of things I need to look at tonight.”
“Fetch your things and stay here?” He knew he would be fine without her. It was only one broken toe, after all, and he could hop anywhere he needed to. But damn, he wanted her lying in the bed next to him tonight.
“I’m tired and it’s a lot of hassle.”
“Right. I hadn’t thought about that.” It had been a long day for both of them. “Stay here and pick up your things in the morning.”
She shook her head. “There isn’t a spare bed.”
“A spare bed?” What the hell would he need another bed for? And why would she even care?
“Emile, we just agreed that we won’t be sleeping together again.”
“What?” There was no way he’d agreed to that. “I must have been asleep. Or drugged, or something.”
She laughed. “No, you were awake. I checked. But it looks like those painkillers are doing their stuff. We’d better discuss it tomorrow when you’re capable of remembering a whole conversation.”
That would not be up for discussion. Not with words, at any rate. But for tonight, he just needed her to stay with him. He needed to believe that she cared enough to stay.
“Emile?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Hmm?”
Theresa was looking down at him anxiously. “Right, that’s it. You’re going to bed now. Can you stand up?” She helped him balance as he levered his foot to the floor, then took his weight on the other leg. “Crutches?”
“No. You help me.”
He put his arm around her shoulders, and she held on to his waist, supporting him while he hopped to the bathroom and then the bedroom. She stripped him efficiently and settled him under the covers with an extra pillow beneath his foot.
“Comfortable?”
“I’ll live.”
“Yes, but will you sleep?”
He managed a lazy smile. “Only with you.”
She put her hands on her hips and sighed. He waited. “Fine. But I’ll need to leave early in the morning.”
“I know.”
“And I really do need to go and check a couple of things on my laptop now.”
He caught her wrist and pulled her to sit beside him. “Thanks for being here today.”
She nodded. “It’s okay.”
“Kiss me goodnight?”
She leaned down and put her lips to his cheek. Emile slid his hand against her head and turned, so that their mouths met. He didn’t push for more, just let his eyes drift closed until he slept.
Chapter Nine
The agency nurse she’d arranged last night arrived promptly at seven. Short, with curly blonde hair, vivid blue eyes, and a bosom that rivaled Dolly Parton’s, she looked as though she had just stepped off the set of a Carry On film.
Theresa showed her around the flat then went to check on Emile one last time.
He slept on his back, with his head turned against the pillow. She brushed the hair back from his forehead gently, then bent to press a soft kiss on his temple. She checked the pillow under his foot and smoothed down the duvet. He looked strangely vulnerable. Her heart protested a little at the idea of leaving him alone like this.
Not alone, her head pointed out. He had Ivonna, who was infinitely more competent in a sick room than Theresa would ever be. And besides, she really had to get back to work. She’d texted her assistant to say she would be in late, but by the time she’d gone home, changed, and picked up her things, half the morning would be gone.
The first text came through just before lunch.
How did you know?
She frowned.
Know what?
My fantasy about a nurse in a uniform that doesn’t fit.
She rolled her eyes.
Ivonna’s uniform fits.
Not when she’s leaning over to arrange my pillows.
He was incorrigible.
I hope that’s keeping you entertained.
It would be easier to phone him, but this way she could at least pretend to be concentrating on her work between texts. She put her phone in her bag and forced herself to ignore it for half an hour. When she’d finished the next stack of papers, she picked it up and checked his message.
Not as much as you in a nurse’s uniform would.
She let out a shocked laugh. Her assistant looked across, but Theresa shook her head and put the phone down. She couldn’t be having this conversation in her office. She’d just reply one more time to make sure he got the message.
That one is going to stay strictly fantasy.
He didn’t reply straightaway, so she picked up the contract she was working through and tried to remember where she was up to. It was complicated, and normally, she’d find it absorbing. This afternoon, however, she couldn’t stop checking her phone. When it eventually buzzed, she dropped her pencil and then banged her head on the desk as she bent to pick it up. God, she was pathetic. Like a teenager desperately hanging on every scrap of attention the good-looking boy in class deigned to throw her way.
We could play lawyer and client if you prefer.
Oh God, she was sure she’d blushed red-hot and hoped fervently that no one would come into her office until she’d got herself under control. She’d never be able to work again. Not now she’d be imagining Emile lounging in the chair on the other side of the desk, giving her that crooked little smile that signaled his mind was busy undressing her. She did her best to force that image from her brain and sent him a text that she hoped would put an end to his flirting for the rest of the afternoon.