Page 30 of His to Wed

“Emilia.” I use a firmer tone. “Tell me what’s bothering you—now.”

She huffs out a breath. “I’m not on birth control.”

Jesus! The way she was acting, I thought I’d hurt her or something.

“Is that all?” I examine her face and realize from the way tight lines form around her eyes and mouth that it’s a bigger deal to her than it is to me. “Are you worried about getting pregnant?”

She pulls her hand away from mine. Staring down at her feet, she refuses to look at me. “Of course I am.”

A surge of annoyance goes through me at her obvious trepidation. Would carrying my child be so fucking terrible forher? There are far worse fates she could meet, and she would have if it weren’t for me. I saved her from being slaughtered alongside her grandfather, or worse, sold into a life of sexual slavery by his enemies. She should be down on her knees begging me to let her give me an heir.

As I watch her anxiously gnawing her bottom lip, some of the tension melts from my body. Perhaps I’ve misunderstood her. Taking a deep breath, I tamp down what remains of my anger.

“Is it because you don’t want kids, or do you just not want them with me?”

Emilia peers up at me, surprised. “Neither. I just think it’s too soon, don’t you?”

Do I?For me, probably not. It was always my intention to get married someday and start a family straight away. I guess it’s because I was raised to understand the importance of continuing the family name. My father drummed into us all the need to secure our legacy, a task my siblings and I have so far failed to carry out.

Who my bride was barely mattered to me. I’ve always viewed marriage as the means to an end, but the idea of seeing Emilia’s belly swollen with my child does things to me I never imagined possible.

For Emilia, however, I can see it’s too early in our relationship to contemplate having a baby. My wife is twenty-one and has barely experienced life. While I have no doubt she would love her children, I suspect she would resent me ten years down the line if I forced them on her before she’s ready. It shouldn’t bother me, but for some reason, where Emilia is concerned, I have a conscience.

“You’re right,dolcezza.” I hate that a long, slow breath of relief escapes her. Clearly, she feared my reaction and I don’t like that. “It’s too soon. Perhaps you could make an appointment with Livvy’s’s doctor and discuss the options.”

Emilia throws her arms around me and kisses my cheek.

“Thank you, Alessandro.” She sits back, and a crease appears at the bridge of her nose. “Is Livvy’s doctor not the family doctor? I mean, is he not a…”

“A mob doctor?” I ask, and she nods. “We have someone who attends to that side of things, but Livvy insists on seeing a female for her medical needs.”

“A woman?” Emilia considers that and then nods enthusiastically. “I’d prefer that.”

Now that I think about it, I would rather she saw a woman as well. Salvatore Marino might do a decent job of patching up the occasional wound for the men in my family and monitoring my mother’s blood pressure and such, but I don’t like the idea of him examining my wife intimately. He’s pushing sixty and happily married, but I still don’t want his hands on Emilia. I guess I really am a possessive bastard.

“Then we’ll arrange for you to see Livvy’s doctor.”

“Thank you. Oh…” Emilia glances over my shoulder as the car rolls to an unexpected stop on the country road a couple of miles from the house. “Why are we stopping?”

Why indeed?My shoulders stiffen. We were meant to drive back to the mansion. Any deviation from the plan signals trouble.

“I don’t know,dolcezza.”

Looking out of my window and then Emilia’s, I try to identify a threat. We should be safe in the car since it’s armored and the windows are supposedly bulletproof, but I don’t want to put that to the test with my innocent new bride sitting next to me.

With one hand, I press the button to lower the privacy screen between us and Tomaso and with the other, I reach down to pop open the concealed compartment in the seat beneath me to grab a weapon.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“No idea, boss.” Tomaso’s relaxed body language only partly eases my tension. “Stefan signaled for me to pull over.”

I look out of the front window and see Stefan walking toward us from the lead vehicle in our convoy. He doesn’t have a weapon drawn, as far as I can see.

“Wait here, Emilia. I’m going to find out what’s going on.”

“Si, Alessandro.” There’s fear in her voice, and I know it’s partly fueled by my wariness.

“It’ll be okay.” Though this unscheduled stop has put me on high alert, she needs to know I will never allow any harm to come to her.

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