The Unwanted Wife(22)

“Coffee would be nice.” He nodded, rocking the baby soothingly. Rhys made an uncoordinated grab for Sandro’s hair and managed to latch on to a tiny fistful of it. Sandro grimaced good-naturedly and said something admonishing to the baby in Italian as he reached up to loosen the baby’s grip. Lisa excused herself to go to the kitchen, but Theresa barely heard her, she was too busy watching her husband with the baby.

“I didn’t know you liked children,” she whispered, one of her hands absently dropping to her still-flat belly in a protective gesture that he couldn’t miss.

“I like babies well enough,” he murmured casually. “I am quite fond of them actually.” She tried to disguise the stab of pain at his words.

“Any baby except mine, of course,” she murmured half under her breath, and he inhaled impatiently, his eyes flaring with fury that he kept contained because of the baby in his arms.

“If you’re going to be making asinine comments like that, please make them when I have both hands free to throttle the life out of you,” he said in the most personable, baby-friendly voice he could manage. He sat down on the sofa still holding Rhys in his arms. Feeling a flare of possessive resentment, Theresa made her way over to him and held out her arms for the baby.

“I would like to hold my cousin’s baby, if you don’t mind,” she informed coldly, and he raised one arrogant brow before standing up and gently depositing the serene baby into her arms. She sat down gingerly in the chair farthest away from the sofa and cooed at the sweet baby she held. Sandro stood up and stretched.

“While you’re busy in here, I think I’ll go and have that chat with Elisa.”

Theresa looked up in alarm, but he was smiling gently down at her, his eyes warm with some emotion she had a hard time defining. “Sandro,” she began quietly.

“You stay in here with Rhys,” he murmured softly. “I don’t want you getting upset by anything Lisa and I may have to say to each other.” Before she could utter another word of protest he was gone. Theresa got up nervously, holding the baby to her chest. Much as she tried to, she could not hear a single sound coming from the direction of the kitchen. She left the living room and slowly inched her way toward the kitchen. She was just outside the slightly ajar door when the sounds of their quiet voices finally reached her.

“But I don’t understand why?” Lisa was asking, sounding baffled but not upset. “I still have at least a year within which to finish the loan. It’s a substantial amount of money, Sandro, so I don’t understand why you would do this.” Theresa bit her lip, wanting to intervene but not sure how anything she could say or do would persuade Sandro to change his mind. She felt helpless and furious and strangely hurt that he would carry out his threat anyway.

“It’s my only real option right now, Lisa.” Sandro’s deep voice rumbled quietly. “I gave you the loan for all the wrong reasons. Reasons which I now…regret. I can’t in good conscience allow it to continue.”

“So let me pay it, and we can put it behind us,” Lisa implored, and Sandro said something that Theresa didn’t quite catch.

“Sandro, this is crazy.” Lisa was starting to sound upset, and Theresa braced herself, preparing to enter the fray come hell or high water. Sandro’s next words cut her short, though.

“Elisa, please, you have to let me do this.” He sounded desperate.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Lisa said, and Theresa frowned in confusion. What on earth was going on here?

“I’ve drawn up the papers, so it’s practically a done deal.” His voice rang with finality.

“I have to think about it and discuss it with Rick, of course,” Lisa said softly.

“Of course,” Sandro agreed amicably, and realizing that their conversation was at an end, Theresa very quickly made her way back to the living room. She was back in the chair and gently rocking a contentedly gurgling Rhys when the other two appeared. She sat up abruptly, her wide eyes flying from one face to the other. They both looked relaxed and neither face revealed much. Sandro placed the tray that he was holding onto the coffee table and sat down on the same sofa he’d occupied earlier. Lisa sat down next to him and busied herself with the tray, placing a tall glass of orange juice on the coffee table in front of Theresa.

“Don’t argue,” Sandro intervened when she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s good for you.” He helped himself to the coffee while he and Lisa proceeded to chat like old friends. Theresa sat there seething, hating to be so thoroughly excluded.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t join you yesterday, Theresa,” Lisa suddenly said. “How did your checkup go?” Theresa glared at her cousin for bringing up the topic in front of Sandro, who sat up and watched her like a hawk as he waited for her response.

“It was okay,” she murmured awkwardly.

“What did he say about the dizzy spells?” Lisa asked, and Theresa was aware of Sandro tensing up like a coiled spring at the question.

“Nothing important,” she responded evasively, keeping her eyes on the baby in her arms.

“What dizzy spells?” Sandro suddenly asked in a dangerous voice.

“She’s been feeling faint for most of the last two months,” Lisa helpfully informed, and Theresa gritted her teeth.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Sandro snapped.

“I didn’t think you’d care,” Theresa muttered miserably, and Sandro swore beneath his breath.

“She didn’t think I’d care,” he repeated incredulously. “Oh my God, Theresa, you simply assumed that I would not care about something that directly impacts your health and the baby’s well-being?”

“Of course, I know you’d care if anything happens to the baby, but I didn’t want to worry you about something that I know is not a big deal.”

“And how do you know that? Did you obtain a degree in medicine sometime over the last three months? Of course I’ve seen you so rarely lately that you could have gotten a degree in quantum physics and I wouldn’t have known!”

Lisa choked back an irreverent giggle, and both Theresa and Sandro glared at her.

“Sandro, I can take care of the baby and myself. You needn’t worry about it. Your responsibility toward me, us, is at an end,” she reminded.

“We’re still married,” he pointed out. “And I think I’ll decide when and where my responsibility toward you and the baby will end. From now on, you will keep me fully apprised of what’s going on with your health.”

“No,” she maintained stubbornly. “It’s none of your business. You made it clear that the only reason you ever wanted me to get pregnant was so you could escape from this marriage, so why don’t you leave me alone while I attempt, once again, to do everything in my power to make you happy?”

“The only thing that would make me happy right now, you stubborn redheaded little cat, is if you would actually do as you’re told for a change!”

“I’m sick of doing as I’m told, and I’m sick of being your obedient little lapdog. I was happy without your interference in my life these last few months, so I refuse to go back to the way it was before.”

“I don’t want to go back to that either,” he unexpectedly conceded. “We didn’t have a real marriage before.”

“You can’t possibly be telling me that you want a real marriage now?” she scoffed.

“What if I am?” he asked warily, and she laughed in his face.

“I’d think you were insane to believe that I’d want anything to do with it. How can a marriage with a life span of just six more months possibly be beneficial to either of us?”

“It wouldn’t…but that’s not what I want.”

“Oh, it’s always about what you want, isn’t it? Well, I have news for you, Sandro…” She was still holding the now-sleeping baby to her chest and glowering furiously at the tall man seated opposite her, oblivious to her cousin, who sat watching the scene unfold in absolute fascination. “I don’t give one damn about what you want. I don’t want to stay married to you…I want my life back and I want you gone as soon as your contract with my father has been fulfilled.”

The silence was absolutely deafening. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Sandro leaned back in his chair and shook his head slightly.

“We’ll still be together until the baby is born,” he acknowledged wearily. “Up until then, I want daily updates on your health. I don’t want to be excluded from any bit of news no matter how trivial you may think it is.”

“I don’t understand what you’d hope to gain from such an arrangement,” she said, confused and frustrated by how adamant he was being on this point.

“Absolutely nothing,” he murmured. “But what do you stand to gain by keeping me out of the loop?”

Absolutely nothing, and he knew it; she had no reason other than pure bitchiness to refuse his request.

“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. “I’ll keep you updated but I want your word that you won’t interfere in any part of my pregnancy and that you’ll remain a casual observer.”