CHAPTER 11
Ilsa
“Ugh. Who would have ever thought it would be this hard to get out of bed?”
My husband Roman slid his arm around my expanding waist and pulled me flush to his hard body, pressing his lips against my shoulder. “Who said you had to get out of this bed?”
I sighed happily, interlacing our fingers together. “I mean, I have to get out of the bed. The designer is coming for the baby’s room in like an hour.”
His chuckle stirred the hair around my ear. “You can always tell him to fuck off.”
I turned in his arms, gazing at his handsome face. “No! Do you not realize how hard it was to get an appointment with him? He’s the premier designer on the island.”
Roman’s eyes sparkled with laughter as he pressed his lips to my forehead. “Fine, but you could just stay in bed with your obscenely gorgeous husband instead of some stuffy designer. Just think of the things I could do to you.”
My toes curled, my entire body flushing at the thought of what Roman did to me, and against my better judgment I rolled out of bed, my feet touching the floor. He stretched his hands behind his head, and I whimpered inwardly at the sight of his well-formed chest, the way the sheet rode low on his hips. God, one tug and I would be feasting my eyes on his.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he growled softly. “Or I will be pulling you back into this fucking bed, Ilsa.”
“Fine,” I sighed, reaching for my phone.
Still no response. I checked to make sure I had service before replacing the phone back on the nightstand. “She still hasn’t called me back.”
“I’m sure she’s busy,” Roman responded, looking over at me. “It’s only been four days, Ilsa.”
But it wasn’t like Naomi not to at least drop me a response. We had been friends for a number of years, and she knew that I worried about her. “I don’t know.”
“Stop worrying yourself,” Roman interrupted, his gaze narrowing. “It’s not good for the baby.”
“You’re right,” I answered, though there was still the nagging voice in the back of my mind that this wasn’t like her. She had only gone dark once, and by the time I had found her, well, it hadn’t been good. Thinking back to when she left the island, I tried to find something, anything that told me that she wasn’t happy and found none. “Maybe I should get someone to swing by her apartment and make sure she’s okay.”
Roman pushed himself to a seated position, his muscles rippling with the movement. “What you should do, wife, is put your clothes on, or I’m going to drag you back into this bed.”
I smirked, seeing the challenge in his eyes. Would there ever be a time I regretted marrying him?
No, I didn’t think so. “All right, I’ll go get ready.”
But as I walked to the bathroom, I couldn’t push aside the worry I felt in my gut. Naomi had been through a lot in her lifetime, but she had always been there when I needed her. Maybe Roman was right. Maybe she had thrown herself into her work and was just busy right now or had lost her phone and would text me the moment she got a new one. It wasn’t unheard of.
I just, well, I didn’t want her to think that I was going to push her aside now that I had this wonderful life with Roman and our child on the way.
Tomorrow, I told myself as I turned on the shower.
Tomorrow I would have Roman send someone over to her apartment and just make sure the building wasn’t on fire or something.
Naomi was fine. I was freaking out over nothing.
I had to be.