The Unwanted Wife (13 page)

“Yes.”

“No wonder they never expressed any desire to meet me, or made any overtures of friendship towards me,” she said, half to herself and he made a muffled sound and moved a hand towards her face. She flinched away from his reach and his hand dropped halfway between them.

“I’m sorry about your father,” she said tonelessly. “I see now how impossible your situation must have been.”

“Even so… I could have treated you less…” he began, his voice bitter with something very close to self-loathing.

“Never mind,” she cut him off, not really in the mood to hear his moans of regret and self-recrimination. “Thank you for telling me.” She got up slowly, always mindful of the dizziness and he jumped up along with her.

“Theresa, wait… please…” he began.

“I don’t think there’s much more to say…” she turned toward the door.

“What about us? Our marriage?”

“I suppose we go on as we always have,” she shrugged listlessly. “Only, without the intimacy Sandro, I really couldn’t handle that anymore. We lead separate lives…”

“I don’t want that,” he said hoarsely, sounding almost horrified by the prospect.

“It won’t have to be for too much longer,” she murmured faintly, wondering why the door seemed to be getting further away with every faltering step.

“What do you mean?” He asked in alarm. “
Theresa
?” This last when she swayed slightly, he put a steadying arm around her narrow shoulders and led her back to the chair she had just vacated.

“That’s it,” he snapped, crouching in front of her, while his hands went up to frame her pale face. “I’m calling the doctor! This is…”

“I’m pregnant,” she cut across his words in an appallingly weak voice but quiet and shaky though her statement was, it was enough to stop him in his tracks. He went pale and sank back onto his heels as he absorbed the words.

“Are you sure?” He asked quietly, one trembling hand reaching up to brush her soft hair from her face.

“I just took four home pregnancy tests in the space of two hours,” she confessed. “End result: four pink strips all telling me that I’m going to be a mommy in a few months’ time! I could take the remaining two tests that I have stashed away upstairs but I couldn’t force myself to drink any more water,” she joked weakly. He didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes glued to her face.

“So you see, Sandro? You’re just a few short months away from getting rid of your unwanted wife, child and life. No more need for pretence, no need to humour your sham-wife with Friday night football games, or introductions to your friends,” her voice trembled with the effort it took to sound casual but Sandro looked anything but fooled by her attempt to appear cavalier. His hands dropped down to the arms of her chair and he seemed to be holding on for dear life, not touching her at all but still uncomfortably close.

“You still need to see a doctor,” he said softly, sounding strained and she nodded.

“I’ve already made an appointment with Lisa’s doctor.” He sighed softly, before agilely getting up and moving away from her chair and back to his own.

“They would like you,” he suddenly said, his eyes intent on her face.

“What?” She asked distractedly.

“My family,” he elaborated and she frowned, not sure why he’d felt the need to say that.

“I doubt that, Sandro… I don’t think I’d feel any kind of charity towards someone who deliberately set out to trap my brother or son in a marriage he did not want.”

“But you didn’t…”

“They
think
I did and once you’ve made up your mind about someone, it’s pretty hard to change it again.”

“It’s not as hard as you think,” he said half-under his breath.

“I don’t know why you think you have to say stuff like this,” she shrugged dismissively. “Soon we’ll both be getting what we want: freedom from this awful situation.”

“What about the baby?”

“If I have a boy you would have fulfilled the terms of your contract with my father. You’ll be free… the baby won’t be any of your concern but you can be
quite
certain that my father won’t be getting his paws on my child! I ask only that you leave us this house and support us while I study jewellery designing. I don’t think we’ll need your support for much longer than two years… after that, I think I’ll be able to manage on my own.”

“You seem to have given this some thought,” he said tonelessly, his face back to that familiar icy mask she despised so much. She nodded nervously.

“I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon. Please Sandro, after two years, I’ll be completely out of your life and while you’re supporting us, I won’t bother you for anything, you won’t have to talk to me or hear from us and it doesn’t have to be too much.”

“You think I give a damn about the
money
?” He suddenly exploded, losing his icy reserve in spectacular fashion. “Do you think I would nitpick over pennies when it came to my wife and child’s welfare?”

“Ex-wife,” she reminded tentatively, fascinated by the incandescent fury she could see in his eyes, it flared even hotter after her timid correction.

“Nothing’s set in stone,” he gritted. “It could be a girl.” She went dramatically pale at that, oddly enough she hadn’t even considered
that
possibility.

“No,” she whispered. “It’s a
boy
, it’s got to be!” He swore shakily beneath his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly. “I know that this has got to be stressful for you. Theresa… whatever the future holds, you can rest assured that I’ll support you in every way possible for as long as you need me.”

“It won’t be for long,” she assured earnestly. “I know you want to move on with your real life. Probably get married and have children.”

“This
is
my life,” he growled. “I
am
married and having a child.”

“But it’s not the life you wanted,” she reminded. “Not the wife and child you wanted. This is certainly not the life
I
wanted.”

“So what the hell are you saying? That
you’re
looking forward to getting married to someone else and having his kid?” he suddenly snarled and she jumped, wondering at his unpredictable mood.

“Why are you being like this?” She asked in confusion. “I thought you’d be happy. It’s what you’ve been asking me for since the day we married. Every time we had sex, without fail you’d ask me…”

“I
know
,” he interrupted savagely. “You don’t have to remind me of it again.”

“Well,” she got up yet again and he jumped to his feet, braced to catch her if she fell. She sent him an amused sidelong glance. “I’m off to bed…”

“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 appetite 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 hell can you be so god damn 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 doorknob 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 doorknob 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 brushing 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 damned 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 brushing 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 passing 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 shirt. He turned around slowly to meet her eyes and she swallowed past the huge lump in her suddenly dry throat, God 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 hell 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.