The Unwanted Wife (Unwanted #1)(42)
“What if something goes wrong? What if you need help in the middle of the night and no one’s around?”
“Why don’t you just stay home if you’re so concerned?” she retorted furiously and immediately wished the words back when his scrutiny turned speculative.
“Would you like me to stay home?” he asked quietly.
“It makes no difference what I want,” was her mutinous response.
“Of course it does,” he placated gently. “I’d stay if you wanted me to.”
“What about your important business?” she asked sarcastically.
“You’re more important,” he said softly.
“You mean the baby I’m carrying is more important?” she corrected, and his jaw clenched.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he maintained patiently, and she blinked before shaking her head.
“You’re trying to confuse me,” she complained, frowning at him, and he grinned.
“Not at all, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’m just trying to be honest with you.”
“Well, stop it, I don’t believe anything you say anymore,” she hissed, and pushed herself away from the table. He sighed before getting up as well.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he had the nerve to prompt, and her glare deepened until she looked like a bad-tempered child.
“No, I want you to go off and take care of whatever business you have in Italy. I would hate to keep you from something important, only to have it thrown back in my face at a later date.” His jaw clenched at her vitriolic words, but he didn’t respond. She got up abruptly, sick of the conversation and the company.
“Excuse me, I have to get ready for my appointment,” she snapped, turning to leave the room.
“I still want you to stay with your cousin while I’m gone,” he insisted, directing his words to her narrow back as she retreated from the room.
“And I still say no to that,” she threw over her shoulder.
“This subject is far from closed, Theresa.” He raised his voice slightly as she moved farther away from him, but she waved dismissively as she turned a corner that she knew would take her out of his sight. Once she got to her bedroom, she sank down onto the bed and inhaled shakily, feeling drained.
Lisa was unable to join her for the amniocentesis; Rhys had a medical checkup and naturally that took priority. So Theresa found herself waiting alone, a nervous wreck even though she knew that the odds of anything going wrong were slim. She fidgeted, flipped through magazines, and chatted with other women in various stages of pregnancy, but through it all she just wished that Sandro was there with her. The other women were all accompanied by their partners or friends, and Theresa had never felt so achingly alone before. She was so deeply buried in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice the person sitting down next to her until her husband’s deep voice rumbled in her ear.
“Why is your cell phone off? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning.”
She jumped in fright before blinking up at him stupidly, not quite sure how he came to be there. He grinned down into her confused face and Theresa found herself responding helplessly to the open warmth of that smile, rewarding him with a blinding one of her own.
“What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly, and he shrugged.
“When I couldn’t reach you, I tried Lisa, and when she told me that she was at the clinic with Rhys, I knew that you were probably here all alone and thought you might need some moral support,” he explained.
“B-but what about your work?”
“It’ll keep.”
“You didn’t have to come, I was okay on my own,” she felt obligated to protest.
“Theresa, you visibly paled every time the mention of this appointment came up. It’s obvious that you find the thought of this procedure daunting. I couldn’t let you face it on your own.” So much for thinking that she had kept her fear and reservations well hidden from him. He seemed able to read her like an open book.
“I’m not really scared,” she said with more bravado than conviction, and he determinedly bit back the smile that was curling up the sides of his mouth.
“You might not be but I am terrified, cara.” He shuddered slightly. “Needles, big needles especially, are not my thing.” She could tell by the way he whitened that he was sincere. She stared into his eyes for the longest time, getting lost in the melting chocolate depths before shaking herself slightly.
“Thank you for coming, Sandro,” she whispered. “I was a bit intimidated at the thought of this procedure.” The confession cost a lot but she was rewarded by the warm, intimate smile he directed at her.
“It’ll be fine,” he assured quietly, unexpectedly linking his fingers with hers. “You’ll see.” Even though there was no logical reason for it, her reservations melted like ice under the hot sun and she smiled gratefully.
In the end, Theresa sailed through the procedure. After some initial discomfort she was fine, but it was Sandro who had difficulty with the process. Apparently he hadn’t been lying when he had said that he didn’t like big needles. When he saw the needle, he swayed enough for an alarmed nurse to hurriedly bring a stool over for him to sit on. He thanked her but manfully chose to stand instead. That macho display of coolness lasted only long enough for them to insert the needle into her abdomen, at which point he paled dramatically and practically collapsed onto the provided stool. From that point onward he kept his eyes determinedly away from the needle and on Theresa’s amused face.