Page 33 of Once a Moretti Wife


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Anna’s dressing room in their Santa Cruz beach house was even larger than the one she had in Stefano’s London penthouse. It took for ever to rifle through the racks of clothes, all of which still had their tags on. She guessed they hadn’t spent much time here since they’d bought the house.

After much internal debate she selected a pear-green silk sleeveless wraparound dress that was cinched at the waist and fell like soft leaves to the knees, held together by a thin belt studded with dainty diamonds. She also earmarked a gorgeous red dress to wear to tomorrow night’s awards ceremony.

Delving further into the shelves uncovered a shoe-lover’s paradise and, after much consideration that involved trying on half a dozen pairs, she settled on sky-high beige diamond-encrusted mesh heels that she suspected she would never have been able to afford even if she’d set aside a whole month of her generous salary.

Stefano had never stinted on displaying his wealth. It seemed that same generosity extended to his wife, a thought that sent a pang through her chest. Four whole days in Santa Cruz, just the two of them, had revealed a side to her husband she had only suspected before. Not only was Stefano an amazingly considerate lover but he was considerate of her. It was the little things, like holding her hand to keep her steady when she got out of the swimming pool; taking her beach towel a long distance from her to shake the sand from it...all the little things that made her heart swell and made her rethink her original assumption that she’d lost her marbles by marrying him.

Marrying Stefano had clearly been the sanest thing she’d ever done. Their first anniversary was only days away, proof that they must have been happy together and that Stefano had kept his promise of fidelity. She just wished she remembered more than snapshots of it.

She must find an anniversary present for him. They were going to San Francisco tomorrow morning ahead of the awards ceremony. She’d see if she could sneak out and get him something there.

She checked her reflection one last time and left her dressing room.

She found Stefano hunched over the end of the bed reading something on his phone. He looked up as she entered.

His eyes gleamed and a slow smile spread over his handsome face. ‘Bellissima, you look beautiful.’ Then his eyes drifted down to her feet. ‘Should you be wearing shoes that high in your condition?’

‘What condition?’

‘You’ve had severe concussion,’ he reminded her.

She waved his concern away. ‘I feel fine...’ But as she said the words something tapped at her, another of those sensations of déjà vu she kept experiencing.

Condition...

The image of an oblong stick with a small window flashed through her mind. ‘Have I been pregnant?’

His brows drew together. ‘No. What makes you think that?’

‘I don’t know.’ She blinked and shook her head in an attempt to clear the image.

He got to his feet and stepped over to her. He put a hand on her shoulder, peering at her intently. ‘Anna? Are you feeling okay?’

She nodded then shook her head again. This was awful. There was something in her memories screaming to escape but she was helpless to find it. All she knew with any certainty was that this memory was bad and the only thing soothing her heightening fears was the sensation of Stefano’s hand against her bare skin.

She took a shaky breath. ‘Are you sure I’ve not been pregnant?’ She didn’t see how she could have been if she had used the injectable contraceptive.

‘Very sure. I told you we said we would try for a baby one day in the future. Are you getting memories of that?’

‘I don’t know what I’m getting memories of.’ She sighed, loosening the panic that had been trying to crawl up her throat. ‘Nothing’s clear.’

‘It will come. Give it time.’

‘You keep saying that. What if they never come back?’

‘They will.’ His fingers slipped lightly over the shoulders of her dress and rested in the arch of her neck. His gaze didn’t leave hers.

Her chest filled with a feeling that was tight yet also fluid, moving through her veins and into her limbs; she was intensely aware of his closeness and the sensations shimmering through her at his touch.

One touch and she was a slave for more.

She looped her arms around his neck. ‘What time have you booked the table for?’

The best way to shake off the dark uncertainty that kept trying to cloud her was by making love. Stefano’s touch drove all her fears away.

He laughed huskily into her ear. ‘We’re already late.’

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