There might not be another man in her life, but Claudio did not hold the place he should rightfully hold in it, either. And if her comments over the past few days were any indication, she did not believe she held the right place in his priorities, either. Their marriage was in trouble on a wholly different level than he had suspected, but it was in trouble nonetheless.

Things were not supposed to come to this pass. He had married Therese for the express purpose of preventing that eventuality. He had chosen her not based on emotion, but because she appealed to every need he had identified in having a wife meet.

She was not meeting those needs now and had some harebrained idea of ceasing doing so altogether. She wanted to end their marriage because her body would not cooperate in her role of providing him an heir. She seemed to think he would understand and approve this so-called solution. But there was no honor in abandoning a wife because she could not have children. And he was a man who had been raised to have honor.

She would learn that a Scorsolini did not give up at the first sign of adversity.

CHAPTER NINE

THERESE was dressing when Claudio walked into their bedroom. She flicked him a quick glance and then looked away again. There was an air about him she did not want to contend with at the moment. Creases around his eyes spoke of tiredness, but the look in them spoke even more eloquently of determination.

He had made some kind of decision. And why was she so sure she was going to argue with him about it? She didn’t know, but her instincts were warning her with clamoring bells to be on her guard.

His hand settled on her shoulder and she had to fight a rearguard action against her body’s natural response to his touch. She wanted to lean into him, to draw on his strength, but she’d learned the only strength she could rely on was her own.

His thumb brushed up the curve of her neck. “How are you feeling, cara?”

Stepping away from the insidious touch, she grimaced at the question she had heard numerous times already that day. “Fine.”

He sighed and then moved to the other side of the room. “Why do I not believe you?” he asked as he started stripping out of his business suit.

“You have a suspicious mind?” she mocked without looking at him. Visual contact with his spectacular form was bad for her self-control. Even when the prospect of making love was absolutely off-limits.

“Perhaps my suspicious mind is justified,” he said with an undertone she did not like.

Her gaze swung to him, but he was facing away, pulling off his shirt. Her heart accelerated as his tawny, muscular body came into view. A fierce wave of possessiveness poured through her and it was all she could do not to cross the room, touch that bare skin and declare it hers.

The primitive part of her did not recognize the practical need to end their marriage.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice a little high as she slid her feet into a pair of Vera Wangs.

They perfectly complemented the green sheath dress she’d chosen to wear for dinner, but their pointy toes weren’t quite as comfortable. The dress was formfitting but did not rub against her abdomen and the hem stopped right above her ankles, making modest sitting easier without having to stay perfectly erect with her knees right together.

The less stress on all of her muscles the better.

Claudio turned around to face her, catching her ogling his body, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He buttoned his shirt with deft fingers while his eyes challenged her. “You have kept a lot hidden from me in the past months. Pain you should have told me about. Excessive bleeding that could have been dangerous. I can be forgiven for not taking your word for how fine you feel at the moment.”

His complacent judgment made her angry. She had been protecting him, darn it. “You want the truth?” she asked shortly and glared at him. “I’m cramping so badly I just want to lie down and die, but I’m not going to and telling you about the pain won’t make it go away.”

He paled at her words, but made no signs of backing down. “I cannot fix what I do not know about.”

Typically arrogant Scorsolini male, thinking he had control of everything in his known universe.

She turned away from him to put on her jewelry. “You can’t fix this at all.”

He said nothing and she worked at putting her earrings on with trembling fingers. When she finished, she surveyed her image in the mirror critically. Her hair was down because she simply hadn’t wanted to deal with putting it up, but she didn’t look messy…or like she was in pain.

And for that she was grateful. She turned to leave and almost ran into him.

He steadied her with his hands on her shoulders, his expression grim. “Perhaps I cannot rid you of this condition, but I can arrange for you to lie down and have a tray brought up for your dinner.”




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