Modern Romance March 2017 Books 5 -8. Natalie AndersonЧитать онлайн книгу.
lifted her vibrant blue gaze to his. “No.”
He blinked. “What do you mean ‘no’? You sent me a photo of you in lingerie.”
“That offer expired an hour ago.”
“You are my wife,” he barked. “Offers don’t expire.”
A mutinous set of her lips. “This one just did. Maybe next time I’ll be a compelling enough attraction that you will be home before midnight. Maybe next time you won’t blow off those dinners you insisted on. Maybe when I remember what my husband looks like, the offer will be available for redemption.”
He scowled. “You are being completely unfair.”
She shook her head. “This is history repeating itself, Lorenzo. I don’t like it, and I’m not imagining it this time.”
He drew his brows together. “It’s nothing like the past. We have been great together. We’re talking, we’re communicating. Just because you have hurt feelings that I didn’t jump when you sent me that photo doesn’t mean I’m ignoring you. It means I was busy.”
Her eyes darkened to a stormy, gray blue. “Just because you’ve had a few drinks and you’re hot for a booty call doesn’t mean you get to act like a child when it doesn’t go your way. Learn your lesson and maybe next time it will work out for you.”
Dio, but she was beautiful when she was angry. He loved this strong, sexy version of his wife—it turned him hard as a rock. The problem was, he needed her to give so he could get his hands on her.
“Bene.” He lifted his palms in a conciliatory gesture. “I’ve learned my lesson. Mission accomplished. You’ve made your point.” He trained his gaze on hers, hot, deliberate. “What would you like me to do? Get down on my knees and beg?”
Her confident swagger faltered, a blaze of uncertainty staining her beautiful eyes. He took a step closer. “Just say yes,” he murmured, raking her from head to toe. “While I’m there, I’d be happy to indulge you. Mouth, hands, name your pleasure.”
A blaze of sensual heat fired her eyes before the ice made a swift reappearance. “I am not a possession to be used and discarded according to your whims.”
“You’ve said that before,” he murmured, his good mood rapidly dissipating. “I find it as objectionable as I did the first time. That is not what this is, Angelina. These are extraordinary circumstances trying to land this Belmont deal.”
“There will always be another deal...another pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It never stops, Lorenzo. It never will.”
“It will. Once we land Belmont, I will be able to breathe again.”
She shook her head. “I’ve watched my mother go through this a thousand times, wondering when my father will deign to pay attention to her again, always putting her second, third, if he happened to be having an affair at the time. I’ve lived through it with you. I won’t repeat these hot and cold patterns again—that roller-coaster ride we do so well.”
“I am not your father.” Irritation edged his voice. “And I’ve put you first every time since we’ve been back together in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “you have. Which is why I’m speaking up. Because we’ve built such a great thing together...because I refuse to see things go back to the way they were.”
He shook his head. “You’re being too sensitive.”
“No, I’m not.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, too tired, too frustrated to know how to respond. He was giving her all he had and still she wanted more.
Her lashes lowered. “I need sleep. I have a long day tomorrow.”
He let her go, refusing to run after her, tongue wagging, like some desperate fool, despite the way he burned for her. Pouring himself a glass of water, he collapsed into a chair, too wired to sleep even though he couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed that particular human luxury.
Things would get better after he landed Belmont. His wife was completely overreacting—a guilt trip he didn’t need when making sure she was okay, that she and their baby were healthy, had been his primary obsession amidst the insanity of his life.
He sat back in the chair. Downed a long swallow of water. His wife’s indignation, quite honestly, was the least of his problems. Losing the Belmont deal was a real possibility. It was becoming more and more clear the branding issue might be a deal breaker. The business pages were ripe with speculation on the potential megamerger, Ricci stock was on a roller-coaster ride, the board meeting was looming and he needed to get Erasmo Bavaro, the Bavaro scion, onside. But the Bavaro brothers weren’t offering access to their father. He had to play the situation very, very carefully and it was driving him mad.
Oh, the world wouldn’t end if the deal fell apart, he conceded, but Ricci’s stock and reputation would take a serious hit. Confidence would be shaken. And it would be his fault.
I am beginning to think your ambition has got the best of you on this one.
A nerve throbbed at his temple, his fingers tightening around the glass. Had his father been right? Had he finally overstepped himself? Gotten too confident? Cocky?
He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. His culpability was a moot point at this stage. All that mattered was getting the deal done. Pulling it out of the ashes.
As for his wife? He’d never promised her perfection—had warned her this was who he was. He’d vowed to be there for her and he would. But perhaps she was right. Perhaps he’d dropped the ball on his promise to be present of late, had let their dinners together slide.
He could rectify that—take her out for dinner tomorrow night. Calm the waters at home.
IT WAS GOING to be a late night.
Angie set the almost completed, black-and-white diamond bracelet on her workbench, sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. Almost there wasn’t good enough when the bracelet was due to one of Manhattan’s most noted philanthropists tomorrow, a woman who could make or break her reputation. And since she had already pushed the delivery date back because of her trip to Europe, then had to wait for some stones to be delivered, it needed to get done tonight.
She headed for the coffee machine, thinking maybe java might perk her up. But she suspected what was really bothering her was the fact that although her husband had made an effort to reinstate their dinners at home whenever his schedule permitted, although he was making an effort to be physically present, he had become even more emotionally distant over the last couple of weeks.
Keeping the faith, believing in them, was growing increasingly difficult when not knowing if he’d ever love her was burning a hole in her soul. She wanted him to say those three words so badly, it was almost painful. But she knew if he ever did, and it wasn’t a given he would, it would take time.
“Do you want me to stay and work with you tonight?” Serina threw her a glance as she put on her coat.
Angie poured herself a cup of coffee. “You have a date.” She gave the diminutive blonde an amused look. “That exciting is he?”
Serina made a face. “Friends set us up.”
“Then you should definitely go. That’s how all the good matches are made.”
She wasn’t so sure how love at first sight was going to work out for her.
Picking up her coffee, she nursed the steaming cup between her hands. “I have to finish Juliette Baudelaire’s bracelet. The clasp I’d envisioned isn’t working.”
She and Serina conferred on the issue, the other designer