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Alessia gestured to her own room on autopilot, wondering at her momentary hesitation. Had she been tempted to suggest the clothes could be stored in his room?
She’d fallen asleep in his bed the night before, and when she’d woken the next morning, he’d been gone. It hadn’t been late, and for a moment she had experienced a flashback to their first marriage, to all the ways he managed to disappear when she’d expected to see him.
But this was different. She couldn’t say how, but gradually her defences had been worn down so she felt more comfortable with him, and more trusting of their marriage. She felt like what they were doing made sense now, not like a random marriage she’d been hurricaned into the middle of.
She followed behind the woman, watching as item after item was removed from the crisp paper shopping bags, each bag bearing the insignia of a different fashion designer. Tens of thousands of euros worth of clothes was moved into her wardrobe within about a minute and a half, like a whirlwind unfolding. “Sign here, please.”
Alessia’s fingers felt numb. She had to concentrate as she gripped the pen, adding her signature to the iPad. She barely said goodbye to the woman; she could only stare.
“What have you done, Max?” She said again, a small smile lifting her lips as she moved into her wardrobe and ran her fingertips over the selection of clothes.
A huge range of maternity clothes hung on display for her – each a work of art in its own right. Even the simple yoga pants were expertly stitched and designed so she could see how flattering they’d be on
. And most importantly, the waistband was blessedly elasticised, so she knew the comfort they’d offer.
But it was all too much – way too much. Her fingers kept moving, landing on a stunning evening gown, a vibrant emerald green cut on the bias and made of a silky material. It had a small v at the front and a larger v at the back. It was clearly a maternity dress but the idea of wearing it…it was so sexy, so blatant. She couldn’t help herself. Her fingers unhooked it without thought, and she was pushing out of the loose t-shirt and slacks and pulling on the incredibly stunning dress.
It fit perfectly. Beyond perfectly. Even now, heavily pregnant, the dress made her look…sexy. She swallowed, staring at her image in the full length mirror. Was this how he saw her? She shook her head, almost unable to believe it except for the way he’d looked at her the night before. She’d felt his internal battle – he’d tried to fight his desire, he’d tried not to touch her, but in the end, he’d been powerless to ignore what they both wanted.
Her skin, naked except for the wedding ring she wore on one hand, was flawless – a honey gold, and her hair was long and thick, courtesy of the pregnancy hormones. The day before, she’d felt like a whale and today she felt like she’d finally found her way to the ‘glowing’ sentiment people used to describe some expectant mothers.
She removed the dress, hanging it neatly and changing into another of the outfits he’d selected – a maternity sweater and the oh-so-tempting yoga pants. Bliss.
Max arrived home just before dinner, and Alessia was waiting for him.
“Seriously?” She stood with one hip propped against the wall, a brow arched. His expression almost knocked her sideways.
Surprise.
He had no idea what she was talking about.
“Did you send out a bulletin to all the best boutiques in Rome? You’re huge, pregnant wife needs something to wear? Max,” she shook her head, softening her words with a smile. “I could have ordered something online. I was just trying to make do until I had the baby.”
“You’re not due for weeks,” he pointed out with insufferable logic.
Except it wasn’t logical, it was indulgent. “Six weeks,” she said with a shake of her head, “and I have enough to see me through.”
“Not if you are feeling negative about yourself,” he said, so simply, as though her self-opinion mattered that much to him. She pushed up from the wall, warmth spreading through her as his eyes ran over her body once more, just as they had the night before. Except, no. This was different. This was possessive, knowing, whereas last night he’d been uncertain, almost afraid of the chemistry that exploded between them. Except Max Montebello wasn’t a man to fear anything.
“But seriously, what am I going to need that green dress for?”
He moved closer, shifting out of his jacket and hanging it over his arm. He was wearing a crisp blue business shirt. As he moved closer, she caught a hint of his masculine fragrance – pine needles and citrus. Her gut rolled. All she could think about was the way he’d held her the night before. She tried to grab hold of the anger that had been a flame in her bloodstream for the five years of their estrangement, but it was completely extinguished. She stared at him and felt…warmth of a wholly different sort.
She felt…she didn’t want to analyse it. It was too new, too dangerous, too terrifying – but even as she pushed the thought away, her eyes widened with imperative understanding. She felt love.
For their baby, she hastened to add, certain she couldn’t be stupid enough to feel love for him?
“There is a fundraising event I go to each year – I’m on the board. It’s Friday night. I thought you could wear it then.” He paused, his hesitation unnatural for Massimo Montebello. “If you are happy to attend it with me?”
Her heart was still racing from the realisation of a moment ago. She bit down on her lip, then stopped when his eyes dropped to the gesture.
“I’m –,” she had no idea what to say. She had no plans. She had a dress. And they were married – at some point this sort of thing was inevitable. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life in a bubble, hidden away in his villa. Why did she even want to?
She tilted her chin defiantly, as though by accepting his invitation she could prove something to him, and to herself. “Fine,” she lifted her shoulders as though it barely mattered. “That sounds fine.”
On the night of the event, he arrived home a little earlier than usual. He went to his room and showered, changing into a tux to meet the charity’s black-tie dress code. But his mind was absorbed with Alessia. Alessia as she’d been ever since they’d slept together. Alessia who had smiled at him easily, looked at him as though their past was finally in the past.
Alessia who was filling his mind completely so he found it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else.
