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Di CESARE PREGNANT MISTRESS - Chapter 45
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The open sarcasm in his voice scraped Stephanie’s already raw nerves, and when they reached the landing she spun away from him. ‘I would still prefer to sleep in my own room. I tend to wriggle around a lot during the night, and I might disturb you,’ she added, trying to prove to him how sensible it would be for them to have separate rooms.
‘I think that’s entirely likely, cara,’ Alexander drawled in that same hatefully sardonic tone. ‘But that is my problem. None of the guest bed are made up,’ he told her firmly, gripping her arm and literally frogmarching her into the master bedroom.
His tightened at the flare of panic in her eyes, and he dropped her travel bag onto the bed and strode back over to the door.
‘Stop looking at me as though you’re terrified I might murder you while you sleep,’ he grated harshly. ‘I have never taken a woman by force in my life, and I certainly don’t intend to start with my pregnant wife. I have to make a couple of phone calls,’ he continued in the same icy tone. ‘I suggest you hurry up and get into bed. And for both our sakes let’s hope you are asleep when I come back.’
Brilliant. They had only been married for a few hours, and already they weren’t speaking, Stephanie brooded miserably as she trailed into the en suite bathroom. She was tempted to defy him and sleep in another room, but the thought of finding sheets and bedding and making up a bed was too much. It had been a long and emotionally draining day, and her body ached with exhaustion. She unzipped her travel bag, and frowned when she lifted out a flat package wrapped in tissue paper.
‘Your wedding present is in your overnight bag,’ Jess had whispered in her ear, when she and Alexander had taken leave of their guests after the celebratory wedding lunch.
Stephanie has assumed the gift was perfume or, knowing Jess’s quirky sense of humour, a musical toothbrush, and tears filled her eyes when she unfolded a gossamer-fine ivory silk nightgown. Further searching in her bag revealed that Jess had removed the oversized tee shirt she had packed and, cursing and loving her friend in equal measures, she slipped the nightgown over her head.
At four and half months pregnant, she had not expected to look sexy, but the diaphanous material skimmed her bump, while the lacy bodice plunged low to reveal the new fullness of her breasts. Jess had clearly bought it with seduction in mind, but all that was in Stephanie’s mind was racing into bed and ensuring she was hidden beneath the covers before Alexander returned.
She was too late. When she walked back into the bedroom and saw him sprawled indolently on the bed, her heart jerked painfully in her chest. He had removed his tie and unfastened his shirt buttons to the waist, revealing his muscular olive-skinned chest, covered with a mass of wiry, black hairs that arrowed down beneath the waistband of his trousers. Who had he needed to speak to on his wedding night? Stephanie wondered, feeling the familiar sick jealousy burn like acid in her stomach. Had he phoned Donata? Or did he have another mistress in Florence? He was so gorgeous it was impossible to believe he had been celibate in the weeks between her departure from Tuscany and meeting him at his London office to tell him she was pregnant.
Stephanie hovered uncertainly in the doorway, and Alexander’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the gorgeous, lush curves and felt his body’s instant, throbbing response. He longed to tug her down onto the bed and remove the tantalising wisp of transparent silk that brushed against her thighs and cupped her breasts, displaying them like plump, ripe peaches. He wanted to discover every inch of her voluptuous body and bury his face against her satin soft, delicately scented flesh—but he knew that he had no right to touch her, and the guilt that had been steadily intensifying inside him since his conversation with James Grainger rose up and threatened to choke him.
‘Come and get into bed,’ he said quietly, drawing back the covers . ‘You look exhausted, cara, and that’s not good for the baby.’
And of course the baby was all he was interested in—which was just as it should be, Stephanie told herself as she slid into bed and tugged the sheet up to her chin. Clearly the sexy nightdress had failed to disguise the fact that she looked fat and tired. She really didn’t know why she cared, or why tears were burning her eyes. She squeezed them shut, praying that Alexander would think she was already asleep when he emerged from the bathroom.
Several minutes later the mattress dipped, and she heard the dry amusement in his voice as he leaned over her and dropped a brief, tantalising kiss on her lips. ‘Asleep so soon? You were tired. Sweet dreams, bella mia.’
With about an acre of mattress between them, she had no idea what, if anything, he was wearing in bed, but the idea that he could be lying ***** next to her caused liquid heat to flood through her veins, and it seemed impossible that sleep would ever relieve her of the restless desire that made her muscles ache. Her mind re-ran their wedding ceremony at the register office until her thoughts became fuzzy and sleep claimed her.
Suddenly she wasn’t in the register office, but a church. Alexander was striding down the aisle, away from the altar, and she was running after him, sobbing his name as she begged him not to leave her. But as she reached him he swung round, and it wasn’t Alexander—it was…
‘Fabian!’
‘Madre de Dio, Stephanie. Wake up. You can’t keep getting upset like this—it can’t be good for the baby.’
Slowly Stephanie opened her eyes and stared up at Alexander’s grim face. Her cheeks were wet, and her throat felt as though she had swallowed glass, but her mind was clouded and she didn’t know why she had been crying. ‘I was dreaming,’ she whispered, frowning as she tried to recall what about. It must have been the old recurring dream about losing her baby, she decided, scrubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I’m sorry I disturbed you.’ She had never seen Alexander look so furious, and she bit her lips. ‘I told you I should have slept in another room.’