The Unwanted Wife (Unwanted #1)(34)
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 turning around to meet his eyes. In the end she just stood there with her hand on the doorknob and her head bowed. He came up behind her and she cringed 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 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 know that it was a bad move from the first, but once the papers sank their teeth into the juicy story of the 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 was about to do, but she lifted her foot and deliberately trod down on his instep a little harder than she’d intended. He swore and leaped back, leaving her feeling momentarily bereft, before she came to her senses and fled.
CHAPTER SIX
What are you doing here?” Theresa paused at the threshold to the kitchen and stared at the gorgeous man who stood in front of the open refrigerator wearing only baggy sweatpants. No shoes and no 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. Of course, she felt unattractive and sloppy in the Sylvester the Cat silk shortie pajamas that she was wearing. She knew that there was a sleep crease down the side of her face and that her hair closely resembled 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 eyes fell to that hand, and she imagined her own hand replacing his. She shook her head 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 not to be around when I head out in the mornings or come home at night, I figured that the only way I’d know what the hell was going on with you was to stay at home today.”
“You can’t just 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 like ships passing in the night 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 or asking after her health. He had recently stuck a Post-it on the refrigerator door reminding her to buy new prenatal vitamins because he’d noticed that she was running out. After she’d forgotten to buy the vitamins anyway, 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.
They still shared the bathroom that connected their bedrooms, which was how he had known that her vitamins were running low, but Theresa always took great care to shower after he left in the morning or before he returned at night. Now, after successfully avoiding him for nearly three months, finding him so casually standing in the kitchen, half-naked and gorgeous, was a bit distressing to say the least.
“Why are you even interested in what’s going on with me?” she asked after a short pause.
“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.