The Ambassador's Wife: A BRAND NEW totally gripping and suspenseful novel by Roberta Gately

Author:Roberta Gately [Gately, Roberta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books - Women's fiction
Published: 2024-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

But that night, like so many others, there was no sign of John. He’d called around five to say he’d be late, and I should just go to bed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll wake you when I get in if that’s okay.” I mumbled a noncommittal reply to hide the knot of misery that churned in my stomach and hung up. At three a.m., I woke to a shifting in the mattress. John had slipped in, and almost immediately, his breathing slowed, and he was asleep. He hadn’t woken me. He hadn’t even acknowledged that I was in the bed, right next to him. I slept fitfully and woke early ready to argue. But John, snuggled against me, opened his eyes when I threw back the covers.

“Where are you going?” he said, pulling me down and shifting onto his elbows to hover over me.

“I—I thought I’d take a shower.” I wasn’t ready to start an argument just yet. I’d argue over coffee, not in bed. Never in bed. I’d read somewhere that bickering in bed was the kiss of death for a marriage, never mind the secrets and lies between us. “I just⁠—”

He covered my mouth with his own, smothering my words and even my thoughts, his hands exploring the parts of me he knew so well, and the remnants of my anger slipped from my thoughts. I was no Emily Somerfield and he was no Tim. All that mattered was this—he loved me. And I loved him back.

When we finally lay back, my skin slick with sweat, my heart still pounding, I waited for John to say he’d be home late, or away, or something that would crush my spirit. But he didn’t.

“I took the day off,” he whispered. “What would you like to do? Well—aside from this.” He ran his fingers lightly along my lips and over my breasts and along my belly before resting his hand between my legs.

I sighed with pleasure and managed to push his hand away. “First, tell me, are you really spending the day with me?”

He kissed my neck. “I am. I’m sorry we haven’t had more time together. I really didn’t think things would be so busy here. You know that, right?”

A rush of tears pricked at my eyes, and I threw my arms around his neck so he wouldn’t see. “I love you, John.” And then I asked about the gun.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Nora. I always traveled with one before—Afghanistan, Iraq—you name it, they’re places that demand protection.”

“But—”

He drew his finger across my lips. “I’ll get rid of it.”

And that was that, or so it seemed.

We showered, gulped down coffee, left a note for Chai, and set off to explore Bangkok. We left the cars at home, walked the three blocks to Bangkok’s sky-train—a cleaner, sleeker version of Boston’s Red line—and hopped off after only two stops. I tucked my hand into John’s and followed as he led me along luxurious boulevards lined with lush flowers and high-end shops,

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