Chapter 1 He Held Back
Blue was the first color I recognized when my sight returned.
For 18 months, I had imagined the day I would see the sky, the ocean, and my mother's portrait again. I never expected the first blue thing I saw to be her ring on another woman's hand.
The pain lasted only a few seconds before giving way to a cold calm. If Adrian could send another man into my bedroom in his place, he could just as easily sign my name, make decisions for me, or even dispose of what my mother had left behind.
Until I knew the full extent of what he had done, I decided to go on pretending I was blind.
The hospital room door opened. Julian came to my side and helped me into my coat. Before fastening each button, he warmed the cold metal in his palm.
"Eve, let's go home."
For the first time since my sight returned, I studied him face-to-face. His presence was commanding, but his eyes were cool and remote.
I should have noticed the signs long ago. Adrian always complained that fastening my buttons was a nuisance, while the man in front of me remembered how easily I got cold.
I had dismissed every difference as my husband's newfound thoughtfulness, born of guilt. Now all the clues I had ignored rose to the surface, pricking my skin like tiny needles.
After I lost my sight, I asked about the scar the first time my fingers found it on his collarbone. The man beside me said it was an old scar, and Adrian brushed me off with the same answer the next day. The brothers' voices were already similar, and Julian rarely said more than a few words at a time. More than anything, I had never imagined my husband could do something as outrageous as send another man into my bedroom. The impersonation hadn't been flawless. I had simply trusted my husband of 10 years too much to suspect what he was doing.
I reached up and felt my way over his face. My fingertips traveled along the bridge of his nose, paused at the corner of his mouth, then traced his jaw to his Adam's apple.
Julian caught my wrist. His palm burned against my skin. "What's wrong?"
"Have you been working out behind my back?" I deliberately brushed the corner of his mouth again. "You feel more muscular when you hold me now."
Adrian never worked out, but Julian had trained for years and was in far better shape than most men his age.
His breath hitched. Then he released me. "Let's get you home first."
Once we were in the car, he leaned over to fasten my seat belt, then immediately settled back behind the wheel.
I still couldn't understand why a man who lived by his own rules had agreed to go along with Adrian's deception for nearly 2 years.
Back at the estate, he offered me his arm as usual. Now that I could see, I realized he always kept half a step behind me, his gaze fixed on the ground in front of my feet.
In the bedroom, he ran my bath and placed my nightgown within easy reach.
Standing at the bathroom door, I fumbled for the zipper down my back.
"Honey, help me."
Julian froze.
"Don't you always?" Pretending not to notice his hesitation, I turned my back and swept my hair aside.
After a moment, his hand found the zipper. The metal slid down slowly, his knuckles occasionally brushing my spine. His restraint was so rigid it was almost painful to watch.
As soon as the zipper passed my waist, he pulled his hand away.
"You can manage the rest yourself."
"But I can't see." As I turned, I deliberately stepped on the hem of my dress and pitched forward.
Julian caught me, just as I knew he would. My hand rested against his chest, and even through his shirt, I could feel his heart racing.
The moment he steadied me, I reached up and touched the old scar on his collarbone.
"Why is your heart beating so fast?"
He didn't answer. He simply draped a robe over my shoulders and left the room.
That night, I claimed I couldn't sleep and asked him to share the bed. Julian lay fully dressed at the very edge. The space between us was wide enough for another person.
I turned onto my side and placed a hand on his chest. "Hold me."
His hand stopped in midair.
"You always hold me during thunderstorms." There was no thunder outside, but I moved closer anyway. "Or do you not want to anymore?"
Julian finally put a hand on my waist, though his arm was as stiff as a railing. I rested my head on his shoulder and let my knee brush his leg as if by accident. The next second, he shot upright.
"I'll get your medicine."
He stood beside the bed for a long while before taking a blanket back to the couch.
At 2:00 a.m., I secretly lifted my blindfold. Julian wasn't asleep at all. He sat in the dark with one hand pressed to his brow and the other gripping the corner of his blanket.
Adrian had been right about one thing. Julian's self-control was remarkable.
But before sunrise, I caught him looking at me at least 17 times.
