Page 66 of Tempting Tessa

I take a sip of the tea, letting the ginger soothe my still-tender stomach. The water is ice cold, with just a hint of lemon. Exactly what I didn’t know I needed.

He watches me eat for a few more minutes, and before I can tell him to take a picture because it’ll last longer he’s speaking, “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Sore and kinda tired,” I admit, not meeting his eyes.

His smile turns predatory. “I can make you feel even better.”

“I’m sure you can.” I take a sip of the tea, letting the warmth soothe my throat. “But I have a lot of work to do, so maybe you should focus on whatever criminal enterprises you have planned for the afternoon.”

“Yes, mama.” He smirks before getting up and leaving my office. Not even aware how that one word made the gamut of emotions run through me. I’m not even sure which one to settle on.

Chapter 21

Matteo

I’ve let her play office princess for a week, watching her work herself into exhaustion from a distance. The weekend wasn’t much better, considering, in her words, she needed to catch up. But now I’m done with this.

It’s Monday morning, and Contessa’s perched on my kitchen counter, legs swinging, purple hair pulled into a messy bun, looking fucking gorgeous even in her oversized sleep shirt.

I lean against the opposite counter, watching her devour the breakfast I made. Eggs with Gruyere cheese, whole wheat toast, and fresh fruit. I’m just glad she’s finally able to hold eggs down.

“You’ve got some meetings today,” I say casually, like I’m commenting on the weather instead of orchestrating her entire fucking day.

She nods, mouth full of eggs. “Three calls, then I need to approve the final packaging designs for the Immortal collection.”

“Cancel them.”

She nearly chokes on her toast. “Excuse me?”

I slide a cup of ginger tea toward her—the only thing that seems to calm her morning sickness—and fix her with my most unyielding stare. “We have an appointment at eleven.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” She takes a sip of tea, eyeing me over the rim of the mug.

“You and I. With Dr. Chen.”

The color drains from her face so fast I’m half-concerned she might pass out. “Who’s Dr. Chen?”

“The best OB-GYN in the city. Possibly the country.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You need to see a doctor, Contessa.”

She sets the mug down with a sharp clink. “I don’t need anything. I’m fine.”

“You’ve been puking every morning for weeks, you’re eating like a bird, and you’re carrying my fucking baby.” I step closer, caging her between my arms on the counter. “You’re going to see Dr. Chen.”

“No, I’m not.” She tries to slide off the counter, but I block her path. “Move, Matteo. I have work to do.”

“Work can wait.” I grab her hips, holding her in place. “Your health can’t.”

Her eyes flash with that stubborn fire I love so much. “I’m not sick. I’m pregnant. There’s a difference.”

“Which is exactly why you need a doctor.” I lean in, my voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes her pupils dilate. “You think I’d let you go through this without the best medical care money can buy?”

“Let me?” She pushes against my chest, but I don’t budge. “I don’t need your permission, Matteo. I’m a grown woman who can make her own decisions.”

I laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “A grown woman who’s been avoiding this conversation for over a week. A grown woman who hasn’t even considered seeing a doctor about the baby growing inside her.”

Her face flushes red with anger or maybe shame. “That’s not true. I’ve been busy.”

“Bullshit.” I tighten my grip on her hips. “You’re scared, and you’re using work as an excuse.”