“Well, Lisa was with me and she was desperately trying to reason with me but I wouldn’t listen.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I can be a bit stubborn.”
He snorted. “No! Really?”
She tilted her chin up and chose to ignore his sarcasm. “Just as I was leaning out and reaching for that stupid cat, he hissed at me, scratched my hand, and climbed back down.” She felt the pinching sensation gradually decrease as the needle was withdrawn from her abdomen. “But the cat had scared me and I lost my balance before tumbling out of the tree.”
“What happened after that?” He seemed riveted even though the doctor was stepping away from the table.
“I broke my arm and I’ve disliked cats since that day,” she confessed sheepishly. He chuckled before unexpectedly leaning over her and dropping a quick kiss on her forehead. “I don’t know why I just told you that story. You just looked in desperate need of distraction.”
“And how,” he acknowledged shakily. “I’m still feeling a little queasy after seeing that needle.” He swallowed and paled again. “I don’t know how you could do that without anesthetic.”
The doctor had offered her a shot to numb the area but one huge needle was bad enough, Theresa hadn’t been enamored with the thought of having to deal with two.
“It was a little uncomfortable,” she admitted as the nurse helped her sit up. “But not too bad.”
After dressing, she and Sandro anxiously faced her obstetrician across the wide expanse of his desk.
“That went very well, Mr. and Mrs. De Lucci.” Doctor Shelbourne beamed over his desk at them. “Both you and your baby came through it with flying colors. Right. So for the next two days, I want you to do no heavy lifting, no sex, and no flying. Try to relax and don’t overtax yourself. You may experience some cramping for a day or two but that’s normal. If you do have cramping and it carries on for too long or is too severe, come in immediately. Especially if it’s accompanied by spotting or bleeding.” Both Sandro and Theresa flinched at the dire warning. Theresa instinctively sought out his hand with hers.
“We should have your results in a couple of weeks,” the older man continued cheerfully. “We’ll contact you when they arrive.”
“Do you think I’m at risk for another miscarriage?” Theresa suddenly asked, and the doctor looked surprised by her question.
“Not at all.” He shook his head vehemently.
“But the last time…” she began shakily.
“…was just one of those tragic things that sometimes happen in life. You’re healthy and your baby looks healthy. There’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t carry to term and deliver a perfect baby. Now onto happier topics; would you like to know the baby’s sex?”
“You could tell?” Theresa asked with a smile.
“The image was as clear as a bell today.” He nodded indulgently.
“No.” Sandro shook his head. “I’d rather not know.”
“But Sandro…” She turned to him in surprise but he refused to meet her eyes. “Why don’t you want to know?”
“It makes no difference.” Nothing he could have said would have hurt her more, and she immediately retreated back behind her shell, withdrawing her hand from his. Of course it didn’t make a difference. If it was a boy, he would leave without getting to know the child, and if it was a girl, he would be stuck in his unwanted marriage for even longer. He groaned when he saw her expression and immediately grabbed her hand again. “I really didn’t mean it the way you obviously think I did, Theresa.”
“It’s okay,” she informed the doctor, who looked uncomfortable to be witnessing their dispute. “I don’t have to know.” Not when she was 100 percent certain that it was a boy anyway. The doctor nodded and cleared his throat.
“Very well then, my lips are sealed.” He nodded, trying to maintain his jovial manner, even though it was evident he was still uncomfortable. Sandro said nothing, keeping his eyes on Theresa’s determinedly averted face. The doctor added a few more of his usual cautions that she not overtax herself before he dismissed them with a hearty good-bye.
“Just let me explain,” Sandro said the moment they were outside the clinic. It was raining and Theresa hurriedly raised the hood of her coat before scurrying for her car. He followed her even though she was still ignoring him and keeping her back to him. She fumbled for her car keys in her large bag and he groaned in frustration before dropping his hands onto her narrow shoulders to turn her around. Her face was wet, and he sighed deeply as he wiped at the moisture, not sure if it was tears or rain.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his head so that she could hear him over the clamor of cars driving by and the freezing rain. “Theresa, that didn’t come out right. It didn’t mean what you thought it did.”
“What does it matter what I think?” she asked bitterly.
“It matters.” His large hands cupped her face and he rested his forehead on hers. “It matters very much, Theresa.”
“No.” She shook her head slightly. “It doesn’t.” She put her hands to his broad chest, wanting to push him away, but the rain had soaked through his white shirt, plastering it to his skin and turning it so transparent that he may as well have been naked. So instead of pushing, her hands stroked and petted and he moaned hungrily before touching his lips to hers. Theresa didn’t even pretend to fight. She melted into him and wrapped her arms around him. She dug her fingers into his back as she arched up against him and opened her mouth to his hot, demanding tongue. His hands were wrapped in her wet hair and he tugged her head back to gain better access to her mouth as his tongue hungrily probed at hers. He left not one inch of her mouth unexplored.
The sound of a car horn close by brought them to their senses, and they jumped apart guiltily, both flushed and breathing rapidly, both shaking uncontrollably. Theresa stared up into Sandro’s dazed eyes and blinked at the vulnerability that she thought she saw there.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” he murmured hoarsely, and she stared back at him uncomprehendingly.
“You were just being honest,” she whispered, and his brows slammed together in a formidable frown.
“No! I mean…yes I was, but you misunderstood me.” He sounded completely muddled, and Theresa stared up into him in wonder. She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this overly emotional man standing before her.
“So make me understand,” she invited after a long and uncomfortable pause. He seemed shocked by the invitation and for a moment looked unable to respond.
“I meant that the baby’s sex made no difference to me either way because I would love it regardless of what it was,” he said in a rush, and she gaped up at him incredulously for a moment before placing both hands on his chest and pushing him away violently. He was taken by surprise and staggered back, nearly sprawling to the wet pavement before catching himself and finding his balance.
“Why would you say that? Why would you lie like that? I don’t deserve it, Sandro. I haven’t done anything to deserve any of this but you keep finding new and creative ways to hurt me.” She went back to fumbling in her bag and finally found her keys.
“Don’t try to pretend that you care,” she hissed at him. “I know you don’t. Five more months of this and you’ll be free to go back to your Francesca and start your real life with a real wife and babies that you will really love!” He seemed stunned by her attack but her mention of Francesca brought his eyes sharply up to hers.
“What? You didn’t think that I knew about your precious Francesca? The woman you love, the woman you wanted to marry before my father forced you into this sham? I know you see her every time you go back to Italy, just like I know you were speaking to her last night and will be going to her when you go back this week!” She was practically screaming now, frustrated by the way he just stood there. Like someone who’d been caught in a bomb blast, he looked dazed.
She was starting to feel strange, lightheaded and nauseous. She braced her hands on the roof of her car and tried to steady herself, aware that Sandro was moving toward her. His hands reached for her and she weakly tried to evade his grasp, but the movement made her even dizzier and she swayed slightly. Sandro’s arms wrapped around her and she was too faint to really care.
“Theresa, cara. I’m here. You’re okay…”
Those were the last desperate words she heard from her husband before everything went black.
“When I said she shouldn’t overtax herself, I meant both physically and emotionally, Mr. De Lucci.” Theresa heard the sharp admonishment in the slightly familiar voice and frowned as she tried to hear over the weird buzzing sound in her head. “What on earth were you thinking, upsetting her like this less than half an hour after the procedure she’d just been through?”
“Will she be okay?” Theresa heard Sandro’s unusually subdued voice over the rapidly subsiding buzz and she wondered at the strange panicky edge in it.