My Bratty Wife
Chapter 76 - Seventy Six

Chapter 76: Chapter Seventy Six

Ryan’s brow furrowed as he watched Suzy struggle for words. It was the first time she had addressed him as "HER HUSBAND." Usually, it was a formal "Duke," a respectful "Your Grace," or a casual, almost dismissive, "Ryan." This simple change held a weight he couldn’t quite decipher.

Silence draped itself over the room once more, thick and heavy. Suzy fidgeted on his lap, her earlier bravado fading with each passing second. "Well," she finally blurted, her voice barely a whisper, "that’s..."

"Technically, Duchess," Ryan interrupted, his voice surprisingly gentle, "you haven’t answered my question."

Suzy felt a prickle of heat crawl up her neck. Technically, what? Technically speaking, it was none of his business why she chased Eleanor away. But then, a different thought struck her.

He must have overheard her conversation with Eleanor. The realization sent a jolt through her. Had he heard everything? Her declaration of him being her husband?

A defiant spark ignited within her. So what if he did? It wasn’t a lie, was it? They were married, partners on paper at least. The word "husband" wasn’t some magic spell that conjured affection. It was a title, a fact cemented by their signed marriage certificate.

Internally, Suzy chastised herself. Why did she feel compelled to defend their marriage, especially to a man who probably didn’t care either way?

She shrugged, attempting a nonchalant tone. "Apparently, she was under the impression she could spend her days and nights here, playing nursemaid, nursing you back to health," she said, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "Didn’t seem very appropriate, allowing a stranger such intimate access."

Ryan’s lips curled into a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes. "Hmm, a stranger, is it?" he drawled, his fingers idly toying with the cloth tied around her waist as a belt. "Seems a little harsh, wouldn’t you say?"

Suzy felt a prickle of annoyance. "Harsh? It’s the truth," she retorted, trying to ignore the way his touch sent a shiver down her spine. "Why should I let her meet you?" she blurted out finally, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

Ryan’s amusement deepened. "Hmm, why indeed?" he mused, his gaze fixed to the rope cinching her waist as a belt. He continued with his ministrations, his fingers idly brushing against the fabric.

Suzy looked at him with confusion in her eyes. Isn’t this man suppose to be sick? Why is he turning a simple visit into something complicated, taking pleasure in whatever he’s doing?

Ryan’s smirk widened. " Or?" he teased. "Are you scared something might happen if another woman spends all day and night fussing over me? So you tell me Duchess, what do you think will happen, hmmm, as I’m not entirely aware"

Suzy bristled at his insinuation. "Scared? Don’t be ridiculous!" she scoffed. "This is the Duke’s Duchy, and I won’t have some... stranger wandering into your chambers."

"Stranger?" Ryan echoed, his smirk widening. "Isn’t she a family friend?"

Suzy hesitated, her cheeks flushing a tell-tale pink. "That’s beside the point," she stammered, avoiding his gaze. "This is a personal space, and besides, what would people say?"

"People?" Ryan chuckled, his amusement evident. "What indeed would the good people say, Duchess? That their Duchess lacks compassion? Or perhaps, that she’s threatened by a little competition in the ’nursing’ department?"

Suzy glared at him, her cheeks burning even hotter. "Stop with the nonsense, Ryan! This has nothing to do with that, or some competition. It’s simply inappropriate for another woman to be here, alone, with a sick man. it would be scandalous! People would talk. They’d spin all sorts of tales about me, about us. They are already looking for rumors to bathe me in mud, that will give them more stories to cook."

Ryan chuckled, a rich, warm sound that sent shivers down Suzy’s spine despite her annoyance. "Wouldn’t it be more ’scandalous’ if the Duchess didn’t even bother to check on her ailing husband?"

Suzy glared at him, her voice dropping to a low hiss. "Don’t try to twist this around on me, Ryan. You know perfectly well what I mean. The court gossips would have a field day, whispering about a neglected wife and a... well-meaning ex-lover."

She scrambled to defend her claim. "Besides the gossip," she continued, her voice still flustered, "you’re sick! You need rest, not a parade of visitors. Dr. Abernathy is the only one allowed in to check on you, no one else."

Ryan’s smile softened as he watched her flustered state. "For my well-being, huh?" He drawled, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her cheeks flush. "Seems like there are plenty of reasons why Eleanor shouldn’t be here. Reasons you seem hesitant to voice out."

Suzy bit her lip, torn between frustration and something she couldn’t quite define. "Seems you heard my conversation with Eleanor loud and clear. Yet, you still asking me questions, Ryan. Why are you asking something you already know? Don’t stress me about it."

Silence descended upon the room.

"Forget about it, it doesn’t matter," she said, her voice firm. "She can’t come in, that’s all you need to know. That’s final."

A flicker of something akin to challenge crossed Ryan’s face. "You’re right,"he began, his voice taking on a serious tone. "There are plenty of reasons why Eleanor wouldn’t be the most suitable visitor. But what about you, Duchess? This is my personal space, as you so eloquently put it. And you’re here. Can you, of all people, be here with me... alone?"

Suzy’s breath hitched. The playful banter had taken a sharp turn, leaving her feeling flustered and strangely on edge. Before she could formulate a response, Ryan surprised her with a sudden movement.

He shifted on the sofa, pushing himself up with surprising strength for a sick man. His hand reached out, gently guiding her to lie down under him.

Suzy found herself sprawled on the plush cushions, her back against the cool silk of the sofa. Ryan loomed above her, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. Their proximity was undeniable, the air around them crackling with a sudden tension.

"R... Ryan, stop this. I..." she stammered, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I shouldn’t be here like this."

Ryan leaned down, his face hovering inches from hers. His gaze held hers captive, a mixture of amusement and something deeper swimming in its depths.

"Why not, Duchess?" he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "Weren’t you just the one claiming this was my personal space? Now, you’re here, a guest in your own husband’s chambers. You seem to be invading my ’ personal space’.

Suzy’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence. She couldn’t deny the strange pull she felt towards him, the electricity that arced between them with each passing second.

But logic, however shaky, fought back. They were married in name only, a marriage of convenience devoid of any real affection. What was she doing here, alone with him, her heart pounding like a lovesick teenager?

"This is... different," she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper. "We can’t be here like this."

Ryan’s lips curved into a knowing smile. He leaned in even closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "Why do you think so, Duchess?" he countered, his voice a seductive rumble.

Suzy’s eyes widened in bewilderment. "No, no, that’s not what I meant at all!" she stammered, her voice flustered. "Why are you being so... reckless?"

Ryan’s gaze held hers, his amusement tinged with a hint of something deeper. Internally, he chuckled. Just like always, she had this effect on him – drawing him in like a moth to a flame. A magnet to metal. Her scent, a delightful mix of lavender and something uniquely her, filled his senses. Her face, framed by her fiery Auburn curls, held a mixture of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite decipher.

Her expression, a mixture of surprise and something he couldn’t quite decipher, fueled the fire within him. He craved a reaction, anything to break through the carefully constructed walls she’d built around herself.

He found himself captivated by the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, a unique beauty mark he’d come to adore. He couldn’t deny it; the closer he got, the more his body ached with a different kind of fever.

His voice dropped to a husky murmur. "Reckless?" He echoed more to himself than to her. His eyes trailing down her slender form. He couldn’t help but notice a glimpse of her collarbone peeking out from the simple dress she wore, a tantalizing sliver of bare skin that sent a jolt of desire through him.

He fought the urge to reach out, pull down the dress from her shoulder and touch her, to kiss that slender neck and watch her squirm under him, the heat radiating from his body a stark contrast to the coolness of the room.

God I want to touch her. I need to touch her.

But here he was, with his messy hair and flushed cheeks, looking undeniably insane in his weakened state.