What He Promises by Hannah Ford Read Free Book Online

way, that wanted him to control me, to dominate me, to spank me, to
force me.  
    To give him total control over my body was
something that made me feel close to him.
    The waiter returned with drinks, pouring a
bubbly moscato into my glass and setting a tumbler
full of something dark and amber in front of Noah.
    “Should you be drinking that?” I asked Noah
when the waiter was gone.
    “Why shouldn’t I be?”
    “Because of your painkillers.”   They’d given him a script for
painkillers at the hospital with strict instructions to stay on top of his
pain, to make sure he took them when needed, and to call if he needed refills.
    “I’m not taking any painkillers.”
    “What?” I asked, surprised.
    He shrugged.   “I haven’t needed them.”
    I opened my mouth to protest.   Of course he needed them.   There was no reason for him not to need
them.   His body had been through a
devastating trauma, a major surgery, he’d been
stitched back together and given blood.   Of course there was pain.
    But then I realized his need for control must
have been stronger than his need to get rid of the pain.
    The waiter was setting the first course down in
front of us now, a mesclun salad with fennel and a
crisp parmesan crouton.  
    Noah was already moving on, talking about his
day at work, asking me if I was going back to school tomorrow, if maybe I
should call and talk to them about what happened.
    The thought of going back to school was panic-inducing .   How
could I go back there with everyone knowing what had happened to me?   But not going back obviously wasn’t an
option.
    The main course was a prime rib, followed by a
cherry tart for dessert.   The food
was delicious, the kind of food you remembered, the kind of food that wasn’t
just good, but felt like a masterpiece, served and presented in dishes and wish
flourishes and garnishes that made it feel like a work of art.  
    But I couldn’t concentrate on the food.
    All I could concentrate on was Noah.
    And what he might ask me.
    He’d obviously planned this whole night, had
taken care of everything from the restaurant to the menu to the drinks.
    When we’d finished our dessert, he sat back in
his chair and gazed out across the city, his expression contemplative. Every
one of my nerves was on high alert.   Was this the moment?   The
moment he was going to ask me to be his wife?
    My phone rang, and I jumped.
    I glanced down at the screen.  
    My mom.
    “Is it important?” Noah asked.   “If it is, you should take it.”
    “No, it’s … it’s just my mom.”
    “You need to talk to her, Charlotte. I’m sure
she’s worried about you.”
    “She isn’t,” I said.   “She doesn’t even know what happened.”
    “You should tell her before she finds out about
it some other way.”
    “Is your mother worried about you?”
    He chuckled.   “My mother is not a worrier, Charlotte.”
    “You mentioned something about her coming to
visit,” I said.   “Is she still going
to?”
    “Yes.   I’d like you to meet her.   You won’t like her.   But I
would still like you to meet her.”
    He reached over and grabbed my hand, brought my
fingers to his lips and kissed them gently.   “You need to call your mother back.   Let her know you’re okay.”
    I frowned.   Was that even the truth?   Was I okay?   I couldn’t tell.   Everything seemed okay.   I was here, with Noah, he was being
sweet and forthcoming and inviting me to meet his mom.   He was more relaxed than I’d ever seen
him.   He was acting romantic and
saying the right things.
    I was thinking he might even ask me to marry
him.
    But somehow… it was strange, but somehow it
felt too perfect.
    Shouldn’t we be talking more about what had
happened?   About
how it was going to affect us?   Noah was acting like nothing had happened, going back to his office and eschewing
his painkillers in favor of work and fancy dinners.
    “Come on,” Noah said, standing up.   He took my hand