The Unwanted Wife (20 page)

“You’re still not relaxed,” he observed after a few minutes of silence and she lifted her head from where it was resting just beneath his armpit and frowned grumpily up into his face.

“Of course I’m not,” she snapped. “How am I supposed to relax when you’re exactly where I
don’t
want you to be?”

“You brought this upon yourself,” he shrugged in unconcern.

“How on earth did I do
that
?”

“By not following the doctor’s orders,” he mumbled, sounding half-asleep. “This is the only way I can be sure that you’ll bloody well stay in bed.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you,” she finally said and he sighed, the sound so long-suffering that Theresa’s hackles rose.

“No. But you
are
going to sleep with me,” he informed her, his voice filled with grim purpose. “So you might as well relax.” She said nothing, merely remaining tensed up like a coiled spring beside him. The hand he had resting at her waist began sweeping lazily up and down her side, while he brought his other arm around to lay his large hand low on her abdomen, where the baby rested. She tensed even further at his actions but he did nothing more threatening that pet and stroke her gently. Gradually she began to relax, allowing her thoughts to drift slightly.

“Have you thought of names for the baby yet?” He asked after nearly half an hour of increasingly comfortable silence and Theresa was so relaxed by that time that she couldn’t even summon up any outrage at what she considered a forbidden topic.

“Hmmm…” she moaned, inhaling his warm, clean scent with visible pleasure. “I like the names Kieran and Ethan. Liam maybe but I’m leaning toward Alex…” her voice trailed off awkwardly as she realized what she had revealed and hoped that he wouldn’t notice. But this was Sandro and he was sharper than the proverbial tack.

“Alex?” He observed casually. “Alexander?”

Stupid, stupid fool
! She berated herself angrily. How could she have revealed that she was leaning towards naming her son after him? He said nothing further on the subject and she relaxed after a few tense minutes.

“What about girl names?” He finally asked. “You haven’t thought of any?” Of course she hadn’t thought of any! She was having a
boy
. She refused to answer his question.

“I like the name Lily,” he murmured, his voice almost dreamy as he continued to gently stroke the slight mound of her abdomen. “Or Sofia… Lily would have black hair like mine but beautiful green eyes like yours… but I think a Sofia should have red hair and brown eyes, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for her response, merely continued on in that same dreamy voice. “Lily would be a sweet child… but Sofia… she’s temperamental. She likes to throw things…”

“
Stop it
,” she finally hissed angrily. “There will be
no
Lily or Sofia! There will be a Liam or an Ethan, maybe a Kieran or an Alex… and he will have red hair and green eyes. He will be a sweet and lovable child.” He didn’t comment, merely kept up the soothing, non-threatening movements of his large, strong hands. A while afterwards, the lazy stroking slowed down, before stopping completely and his hands became heavy on her body, his large frame slumping heavily against hers. A soft snore confirmed that he had fallen asleep and Theresa sighed quietly before allowing herself to drift off as well.

The natural light in the room had a warm orange glow to it when she woke up later and she realized it was just after dusk, meaning that she had slept for nearly five hours. She sighed lazily, feeling remarkably warm and comfortable with her head cushioned on Sandro’s warm, hard chest, her neck supported by his upper arm, which was curled around her shoulders; his big hand snuggled just under her right breast. One of her hands was tucked under her cheek and the other was… she tensed abruptly when she realized where her audacious hand had come to rest. It was cupped over the firm bulge of his crotch, a bulge that was rapidly swelling and hardening beneath her palm.

“Don’t panic….” Sandro’s sleep-roughened voice growled the deep tenor of his voice rumbling through the chest beneath her head. “
Don’t
… it’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t
feel
like nothing to me,” her own voice was husky with sleep and she amazed herself when, instead of following her first instinct and snatching her hand away from his crotch, she gently and almost tentatively, curled her hand around the thickening shaft of flesh.

“
Madre de Dio
,
cara
…” he choked out on a strangled voice. “What the hell are you doing?”

“
Nothing
,” she murmured, her small hand petting and stroking him in much the same way he had done earlier, only a lot less innocent.

“Theresa,” his voice was strained. “Sweetheart, please… if you keep doing that I don’t know… I don’t think…”

“‘Don’t think’…” she purred, lifting her head from his chest to meet his pleading brown eyes. “That’s a good idea.”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Theresa didn’t really know the answer to that, only she had missed having him in her bed, in her arms… in her
body
the last few months and while, logically, she knew that her raging hormones had a great deal to do with her unwanted urges, she also knew that a large part of it could be attributed to her annoyingly undying love and desire for him.

“Theresa, I don’t think this is what the doctor had in mind when he recommended bed rest and… you don’t really want this…” he muttered, reaching down to drag her hand away from his straining, fully erect length.

“I
do
,” she protested, trying to pull her hand free of his strong grip.

“No… you’re… I don’t know… your hormones are out of control because of the pregnancy, that’s why you feel like this,” his voice trailed off when one of her slender thighs moved up to where her hand had just been, he moaned helplessly when she applied slight pressure and relaxed his hold on her. That was all she needed and she was straddling him before either of them realized her intention. Suddenly her warm feminine mound was grinding up against him and both of them were groaning. Theresa watched as his head tilted back on the pillow and smiled in catlike satisfaction when his hands dropped to her thighs to drag her even closer. She braced her hands on his broad chest in order to maintain her balance and continued to sensuously rub herself against him.

“I think you may be right,” she eventually gasped. “About the hormones… I want you but I don’t
want
to want you.” Her frustration with herself and the situation were clouding her clear green eyes and
his
eyes went stormy with some kind of ruthlessly repressed emotion.

“Sssh… sweetheart… I read that pregnant women sometimes… well
most
times, get really…” his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right word, his mind obviously not on what he was saying as sweat started to bead his brow and his eyes took on a glazed, faraway look.

“Horny?” She supplied and she sensed the utter shock in his absolute stillness. She had never said the word before, even though he had on numerous occasions.

“Yes…” he finally said, after clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Because I
am
,” she reiterated, enjoying his discomfiture immensely as she continued to move sensuously against him. His hips were starting to strain upward slightly with each lazy movement she made and she relished the absolute power she had over him.

“You said there would be no sex,” he reminded desperately, his breathing becoming more laboured. “And I don’t think we
can
have sex while you’re on bed rest…”

“But maybe we can fool around a bit?” She smiled down into her husband’s shocked face, feeling like the cat that had stolen the cream. He lifted one of his arms and covered his eyes, biting back a cry of pleasured anguish as she exerted more pressure right where it counted. He lifted his arm from his face and his fevered gaze bored into hers, his face was taut with the control he was exerting over himself, the harsh planes standing out in sharp relief beneath his tanned skin. He reached up and tangled his large hands in her tousled red hair, tugging her towards him until their lips were a breath apart but Theresa smiled serenely down into his strained face and pushed her hands down onto his heaving chest to force some distance between them. He reluctantly let her go, relinquishing the opportunity to use his larger size and superior strength against her, obviously content, for now, to let her control events.

“Theresa,
please
,” he finally begged. “Give me your mouth. I need to taste you…
per favore
”

“No lips,” she shook her head. “This isn’t…” she hesitated and his eyes flared and his body went still beneath her, taut with tension.

“Isn’t what?” He demanded and she blinked down into his suddenly furious eyes. “Isn’t
what
, Theresa?”

“Personal…” she completed on a whisper and was shocked and dismayed when she surprised a flash of hurt in his usually unreadable gaze.

“This feels pretty damned personal to
me
,
cara
,” he hissed.

“I just…
need
you,” she half-sobbed and he shook his head, grabbing her narrow hips between his large hands.

“Not
me
,” he shook his head, keeping her hips steady as he ground himself against her. She shuddered in involuntary pleasure. “
This
!”

“Yes,” she cried out, pushing herself against him. “
Please
…”

“I won’t let you use me like that, Theresa,” his voice was so brittle it cracked.

“Why
not
?” She keened, tears of frustration, anger and heartbreak sliding down her cheeks. “You
used
me in exactly the same way… and you kept it impersonal too. No kissing, no cuddling, no intimacy, no talking, no warmth…
nothing
! You stripped the act of everything but the bare essentials and right now, that’s all I want from you.”

“What is this? Some kind of
payback
? You want me to see what it feels like to be used? Well you’re doing a pretty damned good job of it, Theresa. Consider it a lesson well-learned...” he finally used his superior strength and lifted her off of him as if she weighed nothing and she curled up into a humiliated ball, tears finally slipping down her cheeks as her entire body clenched with sexual and emotional frustration.

“I wasn’t trying to prove anything,” she protested thickly. “I just didn’t want to get emotionally involved again! I didn’t want to start thinking there was anything other than physical attraction between us. I can’t afford to make that mistake again…”

“
Mi dispiace, cara
,” he said regretfully as he got up and shoved his hands into his pockets to stare down at her. “I can’t give you what you want. Not the way you want it…”

“You’ve done it
before
,” she pointed out, sitting up and swiping at her hot, wet cheeks. “We can just go back to that…”

“There’s
no
going back to that,” he negated harshly. “Never again…”

“I know I’m not your type,” she strove to sound casual about that painful fact and ignored the slight sound of dismay that seemed to rumble out from deep within his broad chest. “Compared to all those supermodels and actresses, I know I’ve always been Miss Dull and Dowdy… but you overlooked that once. I thought maybe…”

“Are you fishing for compliments?” He asked in an insultingly suspicious voice, his face creased into an incredulous glare. “Because I
know
that you cannot be serious with this load of tripe!” She blinked up into his outraged face and he barked out a disbelieving laugh at the confusion in her eyes.

“Well… how do explain the fact that you can barely stand to
look
at me?” she finally found her voice again and he winced at the painful embarrassment and anguish that she couldn’t manage to disguise. “I know how much you hated touching me and I may have been a virgin when we married, Alessandro, but I knew enough to realize that a man who has to drink himself into a stupor before touching a woman, a man who can barely exchange a civil word with her and has to scrub her scent and touch from his skin as soon as he’s capable of getting up after sex… a man like that
has
to be repulsed by the woman in his bed.” Another harsh sound was torn from his chest and he lifted both hands to scrub them over his face and eyes and up into his hair, leaving it in messy peaks. Finally he simply stood there, staring down at her with his fingers linked in the nape of his neck, seemingly unable to respond to her pained words.

He sat down next to her and dragged her back into his lap with a helpless groan, arranged her until she was straddling him again. This time he dragged his knees up to support her back and wrapped his arms around her slender frame, building a fortified human cage around her trembling body.

“Theresa…” he groaned, burying his face into her soft, fragrant hair. “I
do
want you,
cara
. I’ve
always
wanted you…” He cupped the back of her head in the palms of his large hands and stared intently down into her eyes, trying to convey his earnestness through sheer force of will. Theresa’s tear-drenched gaze swept over his deadly serious face and she couldn’t read it. Once again he had his emotions under tight control and even though he was saying the words she couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not.

“You don’t have to lie,” she finally whispered, dropping her head to one of his broad shoulders and closing her arms around his broad back, feeling safe, warm and protected. “I’m sorry I brought this up again, Sandro. I didn’t mean to. I don’t mean to keep throwing the past back into your face like this. I do recognize how difficult the situation must have been for you and…”

“Stop it,” he finally interrupted the burble of words that she couldn’t seem to control. “Just stop it… yes the situation was beyond my control. It was, and still is, incredibly difficult but this does
not
mean you deserved the treatment you got from me and it certainly doesn’t mean that I
never
wanted you. Theresa, most nights I could barely keep my greedy hands off of you.”