Willed to Love Read Online Free

protest when he put her down on the bed and moved to pull away. Tightening her hold, she pulled him down with her, until his familiar weight settled against her body. Without opening her eyes, she ran her hands down his chest, stroking over the muscles he had had to work hard to attain. With so much of his life spent behind a desk, he had always taken an hour four times a week to hit the gym, something she had grown to very much appreciate. Especially once they got a home gym set, and she could watch him work out, the sweat dripping from his body.
    His hands stroked over her back, and when Ashley moved to pull him over her, he held her still and whispered softly in her ear. She vaguely heard his words; soft apologies, love words, the outpouring of his pain. Emotionally exhausted, she laid in the circle of his arms, held safe and loved, and drifted back to sleep.
     
    * * * *
     
    Several days later, Ashley was still trying to settle into some semblance of a routine. Devon made sure that the staff knew not to disturb her when she was in the room he had designated as her studio. All of her canvases and paints had been brought from her apartment and set up in what had once been a sitting room. She could remember sitting there for hours, spending time with Devon’s grandmother, listening to stories about him as a child. If they weren’t in the library or her bedroom, then they were in here.
    The only saving grace was that his family had left them alone, so far none daring to challenge the family matriarch’s wishes.
    In the evenings, they had fallen into the pattern of sharing dinner together and then retiring to their suite, where Devon worked on paperwork and she read, watched TV or tried to ignore the way her body was demanding a response to her husband. Most evenings they sat around and talked, often about nothing in particular. Neither of them broached the subject they most needed to work past, the miscarriage and why she had walked out. He knew some of what had happened, but she hadn’t been able to tell him everything. And now, she wasn’t certain that she could relive it all again to tell him.
    Their time in the evenings was almost like a memory, a dream of what it had been like on their honeymoon, minus the intense sex. Devon hadn’t tried to go beyond a few kisses since the day he had found her sleeping on his grandmother’s bed, and none had been as passionate as before that day.  And as the days passed, she waited, uncertain how to approach the subject of a true reconciliation, uncertain if she was ready to pick things up where they had left off.  Although she had been half asleep, she still remembered the things he had said, the pain that had laced every word.
    She knew he wanted things the way they were. So it should have been easy to say “I don’t want a divorce. I want you.”  But time after time she tried, and each time, the words got stuck. How could they go back to how they were, as if their baby had never happened?  How could they bridge the pain that still separated them?
    Her heart still ached, and sometimes she found herself rubbing a hand over her belly before she remembered that the baby was gone. Sometimes, she’d look up and find Devon’s eyes on her, and the urge to curl up in his arms and cry was so strong, she almost broke down.
    At night, she always turned in first, determined to be asleep before he came to bed, but in the morning she woke with her body tangled with his. It was damned frustrating, and she was about to strangle the love of her life if he didn’t stop the subtle war he was waging. She wasn’t ready yet.
    She made sure not to walk about unclothed, always covering up her body and wearing the simplest and most unflattering night clothes. Devon on the other hand would walk out of the shower with a towel around his waist, another around his shoulders, and nothing else. They both knew what he was doing, and he was winning. Foolishly, she had shown him that it got to her,