Chapter 23 Size Matters
Ethan gently lifted me off his lap, cradling my face between his large hands. His gray eyes studied mine with unexpected softness.
"That was clever," he said, his voice low but firm. "But when it comes to your health, Olivia, there's no negotiation."
I felt a flicker of disappointment. The "darling" card had failed spectacularly. His thumbs brushed my cheeks as he added, "I've had Walter prepare some herbal tea with honey to make the medicine more palatable."
"Dr. Fuller's turned you into a dictatorial nurse," I mumbled, looking away.
To my surprise, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a rare smile. "Dictatorial is my nature. The nurse part is just a new role."
The unexpected humor caught me off guard, making my heart do a strange little skip. Before I could respond, Walter appeared at the door with a silver tray bearing a small porcelain bowl of medicine and a steaming cup of tea that filled the room with the scent of chamomile and honey.
Ethan took the tray, dismissing Walter with a nod. "Take these," he instructed, holding out the bowl of medicine. "When your period is over, I'll take you somewhere nice."
I turned my head away. "It's too hot outside. I don't want to go anywhere."
"We'll go to a small town in Europe," he said, his voice softening to something almost coaxing. "It's cooler there."
I lowered my eyes, suddenly remembering how Blake had promised to take me to Europe over a month ago. The memory stung more than I expected.
Ethan set the medicine bowl down and pulled me onto his lap again. His hand gently tilted my face toward his. "Thinking about Blake?"
I slapped his hand away, twisting my body to face away from him. "If that's what you think, then sure," I snapped, irritation flaring.
His expression darkened momentarily, but he didn't pursue the subject. Instead, he picked up the bowl again and held it out. "Take your medicine."
My mind raced, calculating my next move. In a swift motion, I pushed his hand backward, deliberately knocking the bowl and teacup from his grasp.
There was a sharp crash as the porcelain shattered on the floor, medicine and tea spilling across the hardwood.
For one terrifying moment, everything went still. My heart hammered against my ribs as I waited for his reaction, barely daring to breathe. Had I pushed too far?
Summoning every acting skill I possessed, I slowly turned to face him. I made my eyes wide and watery, my expression a careful mask of shock and fear, as if I'd just had a horrible accident rather than a deliberate test.
Ethan reached for my hand, gently massaging my delicate fingertips. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked quietly.
I let my lower lip tremble, then threw myself against his chest, burying my face in his shoulder. "You scared me," I whispered, my voice deliberately shaky. "I thought you were going to hit me."
As my face rested against him, my eyes remained clear and calculating. Test successful.
"It's just medicine," he said, lightly patting my back.
He lifted me in his arms and carried me to the sitting room, instructing the housekeeping staff to clean up the broken glass and spilled liquids.
Seated on the leather sofa, I looked up at him, emboldened by his measured response. Time for a deeper test.
"What if I broke your Chihuly glass collection?" I asked, referencing the valuable art pieces displayed in his study.
Ethan regarded me calmly. "If it makes you happy, you can smash the entire collection. I know Dale Chihuly personally from my time in Seattle. I can commission new pieces."
"What if I refuse to take more medicine?" I pushed further, more directly.
His expression shifted, turning serious. "This one time, I'll let it slide because you knocked it over. But next time, even if you spill it, Walter will bring another dose, and you will take it."
The next week passed in a blur of carefully regulated care. Each day, Ethan personally supervised my medication, even conducting video calls during business meetings to ensure I'd taken my pills. He assembled a medical team that seemed excessive: a private nurse checking my vitals daily, a nutritionist adjusting my meals to promote healing, and Dr. Fuller visiting twice to monitor my progress.
By the seventh day, when my period was ending, I'd grown increasingly frustrated with the constant attention and medication.
"I'm not in pain because of some medical condition," I complained, sitting cross-legged on the bed while Ethan reviewed documents nearby. "Before you, my periods were just mildly uncomfortable. This is because of you!"
He glanced up, eyebrow raised. "Me?"
"Yes, you!" I gestured broadly. "It's because of the size difference between us. You're too... everything!"
His hand dwarfed mine when he reached over to grasp it. "Explain."
"Look at this!" I pressed my palm against his, highlighting how his fingers extended well beyond mine. "Your hands are huge compared to mine. Your arms are thicker than my legs. And..." I trailed off, my cheeks heating.
I swallowed hard. "Everything is disproportionate. We're completely mismatched. I've said it before—you should be with someone who's at least five-foot-seven."
Ethan arched an eyebrow, his expression suddenly lazy and amused. "You think I just prefer petite women?"
"Obviously," I muttered.
"I don't have a height requirement, Olivia. I happen to want you. If you were tall, short, or anywhere in between, I would still want you."
I didn't believe him for a second. In my mind, this was purely physical attraction. I wasn't naive enough to think that Ethan, with his power and wealth, had chosen me for anything deeper. I must have simply fit some physical preference.
"You know exactly what you are," I said, pouting slightly. "You're well aware of the issue."
Ethan's eyes darkened as he watched my expression, his throat visibly tightening as he swallowed. He pulled me closer, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. "I'll be gentler."
I pushed against his chest. "It's not about being gentle. It's about you being too..."
I made an expansive circle with my hands in the air.
His breathing grew heavier, and he held me firmly. "Enough. You're finally feeling better, and I don't want to make you cry again."