The Unwanted Wife (Unwanted #1)(42)
Author: Natasha Anders

“What I don’t get is why you’re still trying?” She whispered in confusion, watching his bowed head intently. “You’ve won. You have everything you want within your grasp, the vineyard, freedom and yet you keep trying, coming to me with all of these demands to be involved in my life. Why?”
“Why don’t we just let it go for now?” He lifted his head to meet her eyes, his own brown gaze liquid with regret. She nodded slightly and he smiled half-heartedly.
“I’ve called Elisa and ask her to bring you a change of clothes. Are you thirsty?” She nodded shyly and he smiled. “I’ll go and get you something to drink, okay?” He stood up and brushed a gentle, slightly shaky, hand over her hair. “You scared the hell out of me, Theresa… so from now on you are to remain calm and not let your idiot of a husband upset you again. Okay?”
“Okay,” she smiled up into his gentle gaze.
“Good,” he leaned over to brush his lips over her forehead. “That’s good, Theresa.” She watched him leave and sighed softly; wishing that her life could be different and that they were a normal couple, excited about having their first baby. She ran a hand over the slight bump of her stomach, gently communing with her baby, apologizing for the recklessness that could have cost his life. She was lost in thought, humming a gentle lullaby while she continued to stroke the small baby bump when she gradually became aware of a presence in the open door. She gasped in surprise, not sure how long he’d been standing there. He stepped forward almost reluctantly, his harsh face more grim than usual. For a man who usually had his emotions sealed up tight he looked like someone who was struggling mightily to keep his expression absolutely neutral, even though the muscles were jumping in his jaw, cords tightening in his neck and his lips were thinned almost to the point of non-existence. Wondering at the incredibly bad job he was doing of pretending to appear completely detached, she was still absently running a hand over her stomach when she gasped and jumped for a completely different reason.
All pretence of detachment tossed aside, Sandro’s face paled and his eyes darkened in alarm as he surged toward the cot in the luxurious private room, thumping the bottle of fresh juice down on the cabinet beside the bed.
“What’s wrong, Theresa? Are you in pain?” She shook her head, before lifting her beaming face up to his. He stopped short, inhaling sharply at her radiant expression. Her eyes were alight with tears and absolute joy while her lips were parted in the most serene, stunning smile he had ever seen.
“He moved,” she breathed in awe. “I just felt him move, Sandro! For the first time…”
“You… he… The baby?” He asked incoherently, moving even closer to the bed and leaning over her small figure.
“Yes… Oh my God! There he goes again…” She laughed in delight and without thinking grabbed up his large hand and placed it over the gentle flutter, low in her abdomen. His hand was so big; it covered nearly the entire little mound of her stomach. He sucked in a ragged breath when the baby fluttered again as if on cue and uttered a harsh, disbelieving laugh.
“Dio…” he breathed, sounding as awed as she had, keeping his eyes glued on their hands, his on her stomach and her smaller, paler hand resting over his. “Does that hurt, bella mia?”
“No,” she giggled. “It kind of tickles…”
“Yes, well, give it a couple of months and it’s going to be hellishly uncomfortable,” a dry voice interjected from the doorway. Theresa squeaked in surprise, lifting her hand from Sandro’s while he, keeping his warm hand on her stomach, turned leisurely to face her cousin, Rick and Rhys who were all framed in the doorway, the portrait of a perfect family.
“That was fast,” he observed neutrally before, reluctantly, moving aside and removing his hand from her belly. Theresa felt the loss keenly and tried to hide it by smiling brightly at her cousin.
“Thank you for coming,” Theresa murmured, her eyes filling up and her cousin moved further into the room, leaning over the bed to hug Theresa warmly.
“Oh darling, I’m always here for you,” Lisa whispered into her ear and Theresa, without any warning whatsoever, surprising even herself, burst into tears. “No… oh no, sweetheart, don’t…” her cousin was crooning. “Don’t upset yourself like this; it’s not good for you or the baby.”
Theresa made a concerted effort to pull herself together, embarrassed by her mini breakdown. Rick was on the other side of the bed; he had Rhys cradled to his chest in a baby sling and was holding one of her hands with both of his, adding his silent support to her obvious distress.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” she choked out slightly and Rick grinned down into her distraught face.
“Hormones. You know what you-know-who was like. The cost of tissues was bankrupting me,” he said in a stage-whisper, jerking his jaw in Lisa’s direction and Theresa half-giggled, half-sobbed in reaction before looking around the room in confusion.
“Where’s Sandro?” She asked warily.
“Never thought I’d ever feel sorry for the guy,” Rick told her half-seriously. “But when you turned on the waterworks, the poor dude looked like someone who’d just been told that both his best friend and dog had died in the same freak accident. He hovered for a few seconds before hot-footing it out of here like the hounds of hell were on his tail.”
“Well…” Theresa shrugged bravely. “This is more than he signed up for.”