The ceremony had been short but the dinner afterwards long. The Montebellos were a big family – six cousins, Yaya, and now wives and children, not to mention Carlo, who had made a lengthy speech full of pride and love, which had brought tears to Alessia’s eyes and made her feel like the worst kind of liar.
He believed this marriage was about more than a baby, and in keeping that detail from him, Massimo had very cleverly trapped Alessia just that little bit more tightly. Disappointing her father all over again was something she had no intention of doing.
“Come upstairs.” He held a hand out to her, strong and tanned, his eyes showing nothing but concern, and suddenly, emotions threatened to pull at Alessia so she honestly felt like she might cry. She bit down on her lower lip and nodded stiffly, moving towards the stairs, holding the rail lightly – a habit she’d developed when she’d first lived here and had almost fallen down the steps twice in the first week. She blamed the ancient silk carpet – as beautiful as it was to look at, it was also incredibly smooth underfoot. But they were obviously expensive and everything in this place was the last word in luxury.
At the door to his room, she hesitated. Every time she’d come into this space she’d felt as though she were invading, yet still she’d done it, telling herself it was just nervousness, that once they’d become intimate sleeping in the same bed as her husband would feel normal.
Fool! Childish dreams!
“Would you mind helping me out of the dress?” She kept her voice cool despite the trembling in her heart.
“Of course.” His own words were filled with warmth and ease, as though there was nothing in this situation to trouble him.
She took a step into the room, moving towards the full-length mirror and staring at her reflection without really seeing – she knew that she looked like a typical bride in the beautiful white silk and beaded dress, all tulle and lace and glamour. But it was just as fraudulent as their first marriage had been.
His fingers worked each of the dozens of buttons at the back slowly, unhooking a pearl at a time until the dress had parted to her waist.
“That should be fine. I can manage the rest.” She sounded so prim! Her eyes met his in the mirror and her stomach twisted painfully.
She felt as though he wanted to say something but he didn’t, simply shrugged his shoulders a little and turned away from her. In the mirror she watched as he flicked at his wrists, removing the black diamond cufflinks there before loosening his shirt sleeves and finally undoing the shirt in the middle, pushing at the fabric until it fell open to reveal his bronzed, muscular chest.
Her throat went dry and her entire body seemed to reverberate at a new frequency. She stared at him in the mirror, her blood turning to lava. Slowly, he shifted his head until their eyes met in the mirror again and this time, there was no warmth or compassion, there was only flame. Her skin felt tingly, her knees wobbly. He stripped the shirt from his body while he held her gaze, revealing his torso in all its magnificence.
His hands reached for his belt and she startled, blinking, heat spreading to her cheeks, embarrassment finally giving life to her feet. Clutching her bridal gown at the shoulders so as to avoid its fall to the ground, she shuffled across the carpeted floor to the en suite and quickly closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a sense of breathlessness.
She turned the water on before she could hear him laugh. Because surely a man like Massimo would be laughing at her innocence and naivety?
“What the hell have you done, Alessia?” She pushed at the stunning gown, too absorbed by her emotions to take as much care as she ordinarily would. Naked except for the lace underpants Elodie had talked her into buying, along with a heap of other silken lingerie Alessia hadn’t had the heart to tell her new sister-in-law she wouldn’t need, Alessia stared at her reflection in the mirror and felt a wave of something like panic.
She was pregnant. Six months along now, her stomach too rounded to disguise, her body glowing with the promise of new life. Her hair was glossy, her eyes shining, her cheeks pink, and her lower back twinged at the end of the day. Pregnant and married to Massimo again – how had this happened?
She stood in the shower a long time, letting the warm water wash over her, seeking a sense of calm and clarity that didn’t come. Eventually, she turned off the water and stepped out, towelling herself completely dry. Grabbing her wedding dress from the floor and draping it with more reverence over her arm, she stepped out into the bedroom to find Massimo lying in the bed wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, his legs outstretched, a book in one hand and a coffee in the other. She did a double take, a frown etching across her lips.
In the year they’d been married, she’d never seen him like this. She hadn’t even known he liked to read.
She was so caught up in her own surprise that she barely registered his response – the way his eyes lit upon her body with such fierce possession, roaming her shoulders, the flesh of her décolletage, the curve of her breasts and finally the roundedness of her stomach, before dropping to her feet and the toes she’d had painted a pale pink.
“Better?” She bit down on her lower lip and nodded, moving awkwardly towards the wardrob
e.
“Much.”
She fussed with the dress, spending longer than was necessary on getting it hooked properly onto the hanger, then pulling out something to wear. None of the utilitarian pyjamas she’d packed had been placed in these drawers. In fact, all of the clothes were new, many of them still with tags in place.
“Max?”
A moment later, he appeared at the entrance to the wardrobe, distractingly half-naked and full-gorgeous. She blotted that out.
“Where are my things?”
“I bought you new things.”
She stared at him with bemusement.
“Why?”
He took a step forward and in the confines of the large walk-in-wardrobe, the air felt too thick to breathe.