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Before Ally had a chance to process why Dominic might really have been searching for her, a large hand settled on the small of her back, burning the sensitive skin through the silk. She tried not to jump, not to overreact to the sensuous caress as Dominic’s palm coasted to her hip and dragged her to his side.
‘There you are, Alison,’ he murmured in her ear, very much like an attentive lover but she could hear the edge in his voice. Something wasn’t right.
‘Megan, Dario, this is my wife, Alison,’ he said, the possessive tone sending an inappropriate shaft of heat to her sex.
Fabulous, Ally, even his temper has the ability to turn you on.
‘We’ve met,’ Megan chipped in after swallowing another mouthful from her plate. ‘And for once I approve, Dominic. Your bride is amazing,’ she added, sending Ally a conspiratorial wink.
‘Merci beaucoup,’ Dominic murmured, dryly.
‘Although I’m not sure you deserve her,’ Megan added.
‘I’m sure I do not,’ Dominic replied, the tone deliberately self-deprecating but Ally could still hear that edge, even if Megan couldn’t.
She had definitely screwed up somehow. Not acted quite dutiful or besotted enough, maybe?
‘I can’t believe you didn’t at least mention in your press release about the marriage that Ally is a talented fashion designer,’ Megan said.
Ally tensed at the innocuous comment as Dominic’s hand jerked on her hip. Oh, crap. She hadn’t expected Megan to blurt that out.
‘By the way, I forgot to ask where your designs retail,’ Megan asked her, caressing her baby bump. ‘I can’t wait to check them out, as soon as I get rid of these two and loose the five hundred extra pounds I’ve managed to put on.’
‘Stop.’ Dario cupped her cheek. ‘You are not fat. You are pregnant and beautiful.’
‘Spoken like a man who isn’t carrying around five hundred extra pounds,’ Megan said, but covered his hand with hers in a gesture that made Ally’s heart leap into her throat.
What must that be like? To have a man be devoted to you? Exciting? Scary? She had no idea.
Dominic’s hand had tightened on her waist. Whatever had annoyed him already, he was clearly a lot more annoyed now.
Why hadn’t she told him she was making her own wardrobe for this trip?
‘What designs?’ he said.
His jaw had hardened. Okay, he wasn’t just annoyed, he was really annoyed. And no wonder—she’d just potentially exposed what a sham their marriage was to two of his friends. She should have kept her mouth shut about the dress to Megan until she’d had the guts to admit she’d made it herself to Dominic.
‘I need to go to the ladies’ room,’ she said, hoping to escape and defuse the situation. But he held her in place.
‘What designs is Megan talking about?’ The sharp frown made heat prickle over her skin.
She could feel Megan’s and Dario’s gazes on the two of them.
‘Can we talk about this later?’ she whispered. Surely he wasn’t going to flip out in front of his friends—wouldn’t that blow their cover completely? But he seemed unconcerned by their audience when he placed his free hand on her other hip and tugged her to face him.
‘What designs, Alison?’ he repeated, the tone broaching no more argument or prevarication.
‘I... I made some of my own clothes for this trip,’ she said.
‘You didn’t know?’ She heard Megan’s gasped question, but all Ally’s focus was on Dominic now. On his reaction. Because his brows had lowered ominously.
I’m so sorry, I should have told you, but don’t make a big deal of it or we’ll both be totally busted.
She tried to communicate the desperate plea to him telepathically.
‘Which clothes?’ he said, not picking up on her frantic telecommunications.
‘Well...’ Colour burned her cheeks as his gaze roamed over the dress—in much the same way as it had when he’d recited his vows earlier.
