Grace could already walk around a bit.
But her wound was still a dull ache, though her spirits were much better.
Damien was treating her like a fragile porcelain doll.
He wouldn't let her move this way or touch that.
He even insisted on holding a glass of water to her lips.
"I can do it myself."
Grace sighed, pushing away the slice of apple Damien offered.
"It's not like my hands are broken."
"Behave."
Damien authoritatively pushed the apple into her mouth.
"Open up."
"If you don't gain at least a pound in the next few days, I'm docking Beatrice's pay."
Downstairs, Beatrice, who was cleaning, sneezed.
Grace chewed on the apple, somewhat amused.
"Mr. Clarke, don't you have to go to the office? With Martin arrested, the company must be a complete mess, right?"
"Let it be a mess," Damien said, unconcerned.
"If it collapses after three days without me, then what am I paying that board of executives for?"
"Besides, what could be more important than being with my wife?"
*Wife.*
The word made Grace's heart skip a beat.
Even though they were legally married, it all still felt like a dream.
Back with the Ward family, Ethan had never allowed her to call him her husband in public.
He wouldn't even publicly acknowledge her as his wife.
But Damien... it was as if he wanted to grab a megaphone and announce it to the entire world.
"Who's your wife..." Grace mumbled, her face turning a little red.
Damien leaned in, their noses touching.
"We signed the papers. Thinking of backing out?"
"You're not getting away from me in this lifetime."
"Heaven, hell, even as a ghost, I'll still be your husband."
His breath, tinged with a faint minty scent, washed over her face.
Grace looked at the handsome face so close to hers.
Maybe, she thought, this was the love she had been waiting for all along.
Just as the atmosphere turned intimate, Beatrice's voice came from downstairs.
"Ma'am? What are you doing here?"
Her voice was laced with surprise and a touch of panic.
Damien's brow furrowed.

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