The Unwanted Wife Part 7

"Have you eaten?" He asked in concern.

"Some toast," she shrugged.

"I don't like the way you're managing your meals, Theresa," he growled. "If you're serious about getting through this pregnancy healthy, you should eat better than you have been."

"I know that... but I think my body might be adjusting to the pregnancy so things are probably going to be a bit out of synch for a while. I'm sure my appet.i.te will come back, with a vengeance. Don't worry about it, Sandro. The baby will be fine."

"Yes babies are resilient," he nodded. "I have no doubt he will be fine but what about you? You won't be able to enjoy your newfound freedom if you damage yourself irreparably during this pregnancy."

"I'll be fine," she dismissed with a flick of the hand.

"How the h.e.l.l can you be so G.o.d d.a.m.n cavalier about your health?" He snapped and Theresa quite suddenly lost all patience with him.

"I really don't see how any of this is your business, Sandro. My pregnancy, my body and the rest of my life are no longer issues you need to concern yourself with. To all intents and purposes, you're free to go off and have a blast. In fact why don't you go out with a couple of the floozies you so enjoy dangling from your arm every time there's a photographer nearby? Go out, get wasted, bang a bimbo. Celebrate your impending freedom in the time honoured tradition."

"What time is your doctor's appointment tomorrow?" He asked calmly, simply ignoring her rant as if it had never happened. She glared at him, before turning away and heading toward the door. She had her hand on the doork.n.o.b when he spoke again. "I never, not once, was unfaithful to you during this marriage, Theresa."

She halted at the door, her back stiffening as his words sank in and she found herself caught between wanting to open the door and wanting to turn around to meet his eyes. In the end she simply stood there, with her hand on the doork.n.o.b and her head bowed. He came up behind her and she flinched when his hands dropped down onto her shoulders and his large body brushed against her narrow back.

"What makes you think I believe you or even care anymore? She asked quietly, fighting to keep the anguish she was feeling from her voice.

"I don't blame you for not caring," his lips were practically brus.h.i.+ng against her ear as he whispered. "But I wanted you to know. I know how it looked but I wasn't thinking about the consequences. I wanted to show your father how little his d.a.m.ned contract was affecting my life and very selfishly, didn't spare much thought to what it was doing to you. I want you to know that it wasn't you I was trying to hurt."

"So you keep saying," a betraying quaver crept into her voice. "But guess who always wound up getting hurt anyway?"

"I know..." his lips were doing more than just accidentally brus.h.i.+ng up against her ear now, they seemed to be nuzzling the sensitive flesh beneath her ear and they were definitely moving down her neck. "It was stupid and I realised it was a bad move from the first but once the papers sank their teeth into the juicy story of recently-wed Alessandro De Lucci playing away from home, everything I did came under scrutiny and any woman I had even a pa.s.sing conversation with became my latest 'mistress'. It got completely out of control."

"Let me go," she demanded weakly, when his lips trailed down to her collarbone.

"Cara," he groaned. "I honestly don't think that I can." For a moment she was tempted to let him keep going, especially when one of his hands circled her waist to rest on her ribcage just below the upward curve of her breast. Her entire body tensed as her mind rebelled against what she about to do but she lifted her foot and stepped down on his instep, hard. He swore and leapt back, leaving her feeling momentarily bereft, before she came to her senses and fled.

Chapter Five.

"What are you doing here?" Theresa paused on the threshold to the kitchen and stared at the big man who stood in front of the open refrigerator wearing only baggy sweatpants, without shoes or a s.h.i.+rt. He turned around slowly to meet her eyes and she swallowed past the huge lump in her suddenly dry throat, G.o.d he was so much more beautiful than she remembered. She, however, felt unattractive and sloppy in the Sylvester the Cat silk shortie pyjamas she was wearing. She knew that she had a sleep crease down the side of her face and her hair looked like a bird's nest.

"I live here," he replied casually, one hand grasping a carton of orange juice and the other lazily rubbing back and forth over the rippled contours of his abdomen. Her fascinated gaze fell to that hand and she imagined her own hand replacing his. She shook herself slightly to rid herself of the erotic image and focused on her outrage at seeing him so casually standing in the kitchen.

"You're usually at work by this time," she pointed out.

"Yes, I am," he agreed. "But since you go to great pains to not be around when I head out in the mornings or come home at night, I figured the only way I'd know what the h.e.l.l was going on with you was to stay at home today."

"You can't simply stay at home," she was appalled by that notion. "You're the boss."

"Exactly and if the boss can't take the occasional day off then there's really no point in being the boss," his voice was casual, light even but his eyes roamed over her small figure almost hungrily, taking in every single detail of her fuller face and rounder figure. They had been living past each other for nearly three months, with Theresa deliberately evading him when he was in the house. She tended to ignore his text messages and let the machine take his calls. He left little notes for her, sometimes asking her to dinner, sometimes asking after her health, he had recently stuck a Post-it on the fridge reminding her to buy new prenatal vitamins because he'd noticed that she was running out! When she'd forgotten to buy the vitamins despite his reminder, she'd found a new bottle on the kitchen table and a Post-it, with a half-dozen exclamation marks drawn on it, stuck to the lid.

He never entered her bedroom uninvited and she never did any inviting. They still shared the bathroom that connected the two bedrooms which was how he had known that her vitamins were running low but Theresa took great care to shower after he left in the morning or before he returned in the evenings. Now, after successfully avoiding him for nearly three months, finding him so casually standing in the kitchen, half naked and gorgeous, was a bit traumatic to say the least.

"Why are you even interested in what's going on with me?" She finally asked.

"We live in the same house, you're pregnant with my baby and I have no idea how you are. The situation is a bit abnormal to say the least, don't you think?"

"It works for me," she dismissed, casually turning away from him and toward a cabinet to fetch a cereal bowl.

"So it would seem," she heard the fridge door closing and tensed as she sensed him padding towards her, he came to a standstill directly behind her and reached up for another bowl. He was standing so close to her that she could feel the heat coming off of his naked chest and his warm, musky scent enveloped her. She shut her eyes and tried to regain her equilibrium in the face of such overwhelming s.e.xuality. He lingered behind her for much longer than he should have before abruptly moving away and leaving her feeling bereft. When she turned back to face him, he was sitting at the wooden table in the sunny breakfast nook and shaking a huge amount of corn flakes into his bowl and when he realised that she was watching him, he lifted the box enquiringly. She sighed before carrying her bowl to the table where she sat down opposite him and watched as he sprinkled the flakes into her bowl, topping the dry cereal with strawberry halves and banana slices that he must have cut before she came downstairs.

It was the housekeeper's day off so Theresa hadn't planned on anything fancier than cereal anyway but the company was unwelcome and unexpected. She watched as Sandro poured a generous amount of milk over her cereal and filled a gla.s.s with orange juice, which he nudged over to her. She nodded her thanks before lifting her spoon and awkwardly starting her meal. Sandro tucked in enthusiastically and was done before she was halfway through. He leaped up and over to the fridge, digging around in there before triumphantly producing a grapefruit which he halved, put into bowls and carried back over to where Theresa was sitting. He placed one half in front of her before he sat down, grimaced to himself and proceeded on his own half.

"I thought you didn't like grapefruit," she suddenly broke the silence between them and he grinned over at her while his hair, which was in serious need of cutting, flopped over his forehead endearingly.

"I don't," he admitted. "But I thought I'd give it a try anyway."

"Why?" She asked curiously. He merely shrugged and she decided that she really didn't want to know and didn't push for a response.

"So has the morning sickness completely finished?" He asked after another short silence and she made a noncommittal sound which he could interpret any way he wanted to. He lifted his eyes to hers and something in his expression made her sigh and shake her head.

"Not completely, no..." she admitted. "But it's a lot better than it was before."

"What are your plans for today?" He asked keeping his eyes glued to hers.

"I was going to spend the morning with Lisa and the baby," her cousin had given birth to her beautiful son, Rhys, just a couple of days after Theresa had had her own pregnancy confirmed.

"Mind if I tag along?" He asked casually and she frowned slightly, disturbed by the notion of her husband "tagging along" with her all morning.

"Well..." she began reluctantly.

"I wanted to discuss some business with Elisa," he added.

"What business?" She asked flatly.

"It's about her loan," he elaborated.

"What about her loan?" Her voice rose in alarm but his face remained impa.s.sive. "I won't have you upsetting her, Sandro."

"Well, I either tell her today, while you're there as moral support... or I tell her sometime when she's alone and vulnerable," he shrugged disinterestedly.

"What are you going to tell her?" She asked in a panic.

"I don't believe that's any of your business, Theresa," he dismissed in an annoying casual voice. "Now why don't you hop into the shower while I clean up down here? I'll use one of the guest bathrooms this morning."

She shook her head desperately.

"Sandro, you can't do this..."

"Well, I have no aversion to doing a bit of housecleaning," he said, deliberately misunderstanding.

"You know that's not what I meant," she hissed angrily and he cultivated a baffled frown which completely infuriated her.

"Well if you have a problem with me using a guest bathroom, then I have to tell you, I certainly don't mind sharing a shower with you," he grinned lasciviously and she made an angry sound in the back of her throat, before turning on her heel and stalking off with her head held high.

She refused to talk to him for the duration of the drive to Rick and Lisa's home. It was only as he slid the car through their security gates, that she turned toward him desperately.

"Sandro, please don't do this..." she begged, her beautiful eyes appealing for mercy. The stony expression on his face went even grimmer and he reached out a blunt forefinger to gently trace the delicate line of her jaw before turning away from her and getting out of the car. She was devastated by his lack of response and climbed out numbly when he came round to open the door for her. He took her hand but she tensed and tried to drag her hand out of his grip. For a moment, when his hand tightened around hers, she didn't think he would allow it but he reluctantly released her and instead placed one large hand in the small of her rigid back, steering her towards the front steps, which led up to the house.

Lisa had been expecting her and was waiting in the doorway with a huge smile on her face. She still retained the few kilograms that she had picked up during her pregnancy but she fairly radiated happiness and good health. She greeted Theresa effusively, enveloping her in a warm hug and spared a slight smile for Sandro who loomed above both of them.

"Alessandro, what a surprise," she nodded politely. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"I took the day off," he responded easily. "And when I heard Theresa was coming for a visit I thought I'd come along with her and see that baby of yours again." Again? Theresa wasn't aware that Sandro had bothered seeing Rhys before now and she frowned in confusion, wondering why Lisa hadn't mentioned it to her before. "Also, I had some business I needed to discuss with you." Theresa tensed at the last bit but Lisa simply smiled and nodded, making Theresa wish that she had called ahead to warn her cousin of the impending disaster.

Why would Sandro do this now? When he was getting everything he could possibly want? What merit was there in destroying Lisa's business? She looked up into his relaxed face and wondered if she could possibly have misread the situation but what other business could he possibly have to discuss with her cousin?

Lisa led them into the house and Sandro immediately gravitated toward the three-month old baby who was seated in a blue baby seat which was placed on the coffee table in the living room. His entire face seemed to light up at the sight of the infant and Theresa watched in fascination as he sank to his haunches until his face was level with the baby's head.

"He's grown a fair bit since I saw him last," Sandro observed in delight, reaching out to grab one of the infant's flailing hands.

"Well, I should hope so since he never stops eating," Lisa grimaced and Sandro laughed. Theresa took a step back, feeling like she'd just stepped into some alternate universe. Sandro was crooning down at Rhys in Italian and the baby was staring up at him raptly, his green eyes unblinking. "Would either of you like something to drink?" Lisa asked politely and Theresa shook her head numbly, watching while Sandro nimbly undid the straps of the baby seat and lifted the infant into his arms.

"Coffee would be nice," he nodded, rocking the baby soothingly. Rhys made an uncoordinated grab for Sandro's hair and managed to latch on to a tiny fistful of it. Sandro grimaced good-naturedly and said something admonis.h.i.+ng to the baby in Italian, while he reached up to loosen the baby's grip. Lisa excused herself to go to the kitchen but Theresa barely heard her, she was too busy dumbly watching her husband with the baby.

"I didn't know you liked children," she whispered, one of her hands absently dropping to her still-flat belly in a protective gesture that he couldn't miss.

"I like babies well enough," he murmured casually. "I am quite fond of them actually." She tried to disguise the stab of pain at his words.

"Any baby except mine, of course" she murmured half-under her breath and he inhaled impatiently, his eyes flaring with fury that he kept contained because of the baby in his arms.

"If you're going to be making asinine comments like that please make them when I have both hands free to throttle the life out of you," he said in the most personable, baby-friendly voice he could manage. He sat down on the sofa still holding Rhys in his arms and feeling a flare of possessive resentment; Theresa made her way over to him and held her arms out for the baby.

"I would like to hold my nephew, if you don't mind," she informed coldly and he raised one arrogant brow, before standing up and gently depositing the serene baby into her arms. She sat down gingerly in the chair opposite the sofa and cooed at the sweet baby she held in her arms. Sandro stood up and stretched lazily.

"While you're busy in here, I think I'll go and have that chat with Elisa," she looked up in alarm but he was smiling gently down at her, his eyes warm with some emotion she had a hard time defining.

"Sandro," she began quietly.

"You stay in here with Rhys," he murmured softly. "I don't want you getting upset by anything Lisa and I may have to say to each other." Before she could utter another word of protest he was gone. Theresa got up nervously, holding the baby to her chest. Much as she strained and strained she could not hear a single sound from the direction of the kitchen and she slowly began to move toward the kitchen as well. She was just outside the slightly ajar door when the sounds of their quiet voices finally reached her.

"But I don't understand why?" Lisa was asking, sounding baffled but, strangely enough, not too upset. "I still have at least a year within which to finish the loan, it's a substantial amount of money, so I don't see why you would do this?" Theresa bit her lip, wanting to intervene but not sure how anything she could do or say would persuade Sandro to change his mind. She felt helpless and furious and strangely hurt that he would carry out his threat anyway.

"It's the right thing to do," Sandro's deep voice rumbled quietly in response to Lisa's question. "I gave you the loan for all the wrong reasons. Reasons which I now... regret... I can't in good conscience allow it to continue."

"So let me pay it and we can put it behind us," Lisa implored and Sandro said something which Theresa didn't quite catch.

"Sandro, this is crazy," Lisa was starting to sound upset and Theresa braced herself, prepared to enter the fray come h.e.l.l or high water. Sandro's next words cut her short though.

"Elisa, please, you have to let me do this..." he sounded... desperate.

"It doesn't feel right," Lisa was saying and Theresa frowned in confusion. What on earth was going on here?

"I've drawn up the papers, it's practically a done deal," he was saying urgently.

"I have to think about it and discuss it with Rick, of course," Lisa was saying softly.

"Of course," Sandro agreed amicably and realising that their conversation was at an end, Theresa very quickly made her way back to the living room. She was back in the chair and gently rocking a contentedly gurgling Rhys when the other two appeared. She sat up abruptly, her wide eyes flying from one face to the other. They both looked annoyingly relaxed and neither face revealed much. Sandro placed the tray that he was holding onto the coffee table and sat down on the same sofa he'd occupied earlier. Lisa sat down next to him and busied herself with the tray, placing a tall gla.s.s of orange juice on the coffee table in front of Theresa.

"Don't argue," Sandro intervened when she opened her mouth to protest. "It's good for you." He helped himself to the coffee while he and Lisa proceeded to chat like old friends. Theresa sat there seething, hating to be so thoroughly excluded.

"I'm sorry I couldn't join you yesterday, Theresa," Lisa suddenly said. "How did your check up go?" Theresa glared at her cousin for bringing up the topic in front of Sandro, who sat up and watched her like a hawk as he waited for her to respond.

"It was okay," she murmured awkwardly.

"What did he say about the dizzy spells?" Lisa asked and Theresa was aware of Sandro tensing up like a coiled spring at the question.

"Nothing important," she responded evasively, keeping her eyes on the baby in her arms.

"What dizzy spells?" Sandro suddenly asked in a dangerous voice.

"She's been feeling faint for most of the last two months," Lisa helpfully informed and Theresa gritted her teeth.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Sandro suddenly snapped furiously.

"I didn't think you'd care," Theresa muttered miserably and Sandro swore venomously beneath his breath.

"She didn't think I'd care," he repeated incredulously. "Oh my G.o.d, woman... you a.s.sumed that I would not care about something that directly impacts your health and the baby's well-being?"

"Of course, I know you'd care if anything happens to the baby but I didn't want to worry you about something that I know is not a big deal."

"And how do you know that? Did you obtain a degree in medicine sometime over the last three months? Of course I've seen you so rarely lately that you could have gotten a degree in quantum physics and I wouldn't have known!" Lisa choked back an entirely irreverent giggle at that and both Theresa and Sandro glared at her.

"Sandro, I told you... I'll take care of the baby and myself. You needn't worry about it. Your responsibility toward me, us, is at an end," she reminded logically.

"We're still married," he pointed out. "And I think I'll decide when and where my responsibility toward you and the baby will end. From now on, you will keep me fully appraised of what's going on with your and the baby's health."

"No," she maintained stubbornly. "It's none of your business. You made it clear that the only reason you ever wanted me to get pregnant was to escape from this marriage, so why don't you leave me alone while I attempt, once again, to do everything in my power to make you happy?"

"The only thing that would make me happy right now, you stubborn red-headed little cat, is if you would simply do as you're told for a change!"

"I'm sick of doing what I'm told, I'm sick of being your obedient little lapdog... I was happy without your interference in my life these last few months, so I refuse to go back to the way it was before."

"I don't want to go back to that either," he unexpectedly conceded. "We didn't have a real marriage before..."

"You can't possibly be telling me that you want a real marriage now?" She scoffed.

"What if I am?" He warily asked and she laughed in his face.