Fighting the sickening feeling I always had in Travis’ presence, I taunted, “Yes, Travis, run along. I’m sure there’s someone else who you can make miserable for a few minutes.”
“Always a pleasure, Mrs. Harrington.”
I stared his direction as he walked the length of my suite taking his time before he finally closed the door and left us alone. Turning toward Stewart, I asked, “What the fuck? You let him come in here while I’m sleeping?”
Despite his disease-ridden body, his eyes were quick, dark, and responsive. “I asked you, my wife, a fucking question—twice. Where were you last night?”
Throwing back the covers, I eased myself from the bed, and walked toward the bathroom. “With Val; I told you I was going to go out with her.”
“At the damn hospital?” His voice came muffled from the suite, echoing as it traveled into the tile-covered bathroom. “You went out with your sister at Memorial Hospital all night?”
After doing my business, I washed my hands, and splashed water on my face. While making Stewart wait, I tied my long hair back into a low ponytail, grabbed my robe, and casually re-entered the bedroom. “Yes,” I said, as I tied the cord around my waist. “We didn’t go out. She had rounds. As you may have inferred from our conversation, I was pissed, and I didn’t want to be here.”
“Victoria, you were gone until one in the damn morning. You’re Mrs. Stewart—”
“I goddamned know my fucking name! I was at the hospital with my sister. We were discussing a new project for the Harrington Society, a string of cancer clinics here in the US. Tell me, Mr. Harrington, what part of that was inappropriate for your wife?”
“The one-in-the-morning part.”
“Check the damn hospital records: about ten o’clock there was some big emergency, a pile-up on I 95 or something. They needed Val in the ER. I waited for her in the doctors’ lounge. Honestly, I fell asleep.” My gray eyes narrowed. “I’d had a rather emotional day.”
Without a smidge of remorse, his clouded blue gaze remained fixed.
Thankfully, there had been a big car accident. I’d heard about it on the radio on my way home. A quick call to Val’s cell phone and my story was solidified.
I continued, “She woke me when she returned to the lounge and I came home. It’s a pretty fucking torrid story. I mean, seriously, I’d hate for your wife to be doing anything without you present, oh, like getting fucked.”
His unwavering gaze matched his steady tone. “What did you just say to Travis?”
My mind spun. “I don’t remember. I told him to get the fuck out of my room.”
“No. You told him to run along. Like some goddamned child.”
My breath quickened as I looked around my room. Shit! This wasn’t all about the late hour. This was about my visit to Craven and Knowles. “Travis has no right; you have no right, to allow him in my room.”
“This isn’t your room. Your room is in my room—our room. It always has been. I don’t like you sleeping in here and it’s going to stop.”
I blinked slowly and took a deep breath. “Well, I may have promised to sleep in your bedroom, but you made me promises too.”
Stewart’s blue eyes paled, and his ashen face fell toward his chest. “Take me back to our room. I’m not feeling well and we’ll talk about it there.”
A sense of duty nudged at my conscience as I looked at the remnants of the man I’d married. No longer was he the larger-than-life mogul. The cancer had taken his strength and his pride.
“When was the last time you had your pain medicine?” I asked with less than a tinge of concern and more of a desire to have him medicated.
“Last night, after I’d finally given up on you coming home.”
“It’s time for more, don’t you think?”
He grimaced as he lifted his eyes. “No. I want to talk about this.”
I turned his chair toward me and sat on the edge of the bed. “Then talk. I’m not having this conversation in front of Travis or any of your harem of nurses. You want to talk, let’s talk.”
“I was there. Tori, I’ve never lied to you.”
“Virtual presence isn’t the same as being there.” I fought the absurdity of our conversation.
“I-I can’t physically be there anymore. You know that. There are so few enjoyable things left in my life. There’s such a short time… can you blame me for wanting pleasure where I can get it? I’m still a man with needs. I want that.” He lifted his hand toward me. “This.”
If we’d been talking about almost anything besides the topic at hand, I could have felt a pang of sympathy. But we weren’t and I didn’t. “Yes, I can blame you. You’re the only one I can blame.”
“That’s not true. I heard you went to Parker’s office.” Of course he did. “You looked at the contract. Tell me whose signature was on it?”
“Yours and—”
“And yours,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You agreed to this before we were married. Like I said, nowhere in that document does it say I must be physically present. It states that you’ll comply. You could still hear my voice. I could still see you.”
I stood abruptly, securing the robe around my waist and fought the Dark Lullaby threatening to replay in the recesses of my mind. “I fucking complied!”