Convenience

Part 119

Calmly Beatrice muttered, "Yes. I own the house outright. You can sell it."

His eyes cooled a fraction and his pulse raced with anxiety as he began to guess at what was coming. She looked despondent as she announced, "I have the car. Take it."

David blinked. Not again, he thought. "What?" He drawled with suppressed irritation.

Beatrice's spine straightened, squared her shoulders and her eyes became cool. "My business is small," She looked straight at him as she added, "but it doesn't come with me!" She was going to have to reign in her pique.

David's gaze narrowed and he grated with suppressed fury. "I don't want your bloody house." What made her think that he wanted her house? And why now? Given their previous conversations, given his wish list. He felt as if he was in tumbler drier. If he could just figure out what was going on, that would be great. The sooner the better, he thought.

She could hear the cold fury in his voice. "Fine. Thanks" Beatrice feigned concern.

He gritted and said succinctly, "I don't want your bloody car." He was fuming but he was going to spell it out for her. "I don't want your car." He smiled at Beatrice. Her eyes narrowed. "I don't want your bloody house." Her lips pursed. "I don't want your bloody business." His temper was ebbing. "Is that straight enough for you?" His smile became wider.

Beatrice thought about the Little Red Riding Hood fairy story. She was Little Red and he was the big bad wolf! "Yes. Perfect. Great."

He blinked in amused surprise.

She looked pointedly at him. "Ok!" Beatrice glared at him.

He gave her a measured look, cleared his throat, swallowed hard, squared his shoulders and said, "And I don't want any of that without you!" He tried not to fidget.

Beatrice tipped her head to one side, "Too bad!" She snapped. "The business doesn't come with me!"

He hadn't expected that. "I don't want the business. I've told you." How was he going to let her know how he felt? He told her simply and quietly, "I want you. I just want you. Not your home, car, business, just you. Just you! For fucks sake! I just want you!"

Beatrice looked like a beached whale! Her eyes rounded. She debated whether to argue the point. "You want me?" She blinked at him. "Really?" This can't be. She closed her eyes for a second, tried to calm her breathing down. Was he serious? Or her fantasy.

David swallowed, rubbed a hand down his face then asked quietly, "You don't believe me?" He stood up. He moved closer. He came and stood in front of her. His breath hitched, his eyes flashing with heat, he told her, "I want you. Just you."

Beatrice went absolutely still.

Seconds vanished.

David repeated more adamantly, "I want you." He was tempted to smile, as he accepted he was in love. Really in love with her. Just her.

"Maybe!" She finally said quietly, "You are the type of man who goes after what he wants."

"True." David agreed. That was true. " I told you that." He looked and sounded sincere as he said, "But I need you. So yes, I want you and I need you!"

She was starting to hope that he might really love her. Beatrice stood up. "What about your decision?"

"You know..." He started, only for her to interrupt his statement.

She kept her tone light, "I thought you wanted a divorce. Isn't that why you are here?" She paused, as if she was only just considering his decision. "You wanted a divorce. You came here...."

David interrupted her, his eyes narrowing in warning. "Wrong. You have got that wrong." He plucked up the courage to say, "I don't want a divorce." David added with pointed emphasis, "But you still wanted a divorce!" He remonstrated. "You know I changed my mind after I saw you, here." A hint of exasperation crept into his voice. "The last time I was here, everything changed." Doing his best not to convey his annoyance. He huffed. "I have already told that. I don't want a divorce." He sighed. "You could have got that divorce. Anyone, any woman, who thought their husband had girl friends would divorce him. But you didn't" His eyes caught and held her gaze, and could see from her eyes that she was far from pleased. Something was not right, he thought and asked, "You had five years." He frowned. "Why didn't you?"

She shrugged.

"Remember, honesty?"

"You were useful! Well, your name!" She told him with rueful smile.

"Really?" He poked his tongue in his cheek.

"Yes. I used with the banks. Remember."

"That isn't the real reason. You have had five years. But you didn't serve me with papers." David wondered if he'd been too blunt. But he pointed out, "Remember, honesty?"

But he also knew that he had to be honest too. He hasn't told her that he was in love with her.

Wanted her. Needed her. But he hadn't told her that he was in love with her.