Modern Romance March 2017 Books 5 -8. Natalie Anderson

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       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      THE WEEKS FOLLOWING her trip to Italy were as busy as Angie had expected as she caught up on the backlog of commissions that had come in. She ploughed through the work with the help of her fellow designers, knowing it was a good problem to have—growing pains for a business that seemed to have come into its own.

      Burying herself in her work allowed her to achieve her other goal of putting her pregnancy into a manageable box and not let the fears eating away at the fringes of her psyche take control. The doctor had confirmed her pregnancy upon their return home, giving her a clean bill of health. She wasn’t going to fret about it. Or at least she was telling herself that.

      Her husband, however, had clearly elected to take the opposite strategy. Although he was giving her the time to work he’d promised her, he had been monitoring her eating and sleeping habits like a hawk, enforcing periods of rest. When he happened to be around, that was. Ever since they’d come home, he had been working day and night to close the Belmont deal. Add to that another acquisition Franco was negotiating that required her husband’s counsel and Lorenzo wasn’t doing any eating or sleeping himself.

      She knew it was an inordinately busy time, but the feeling that their life was sliding into its former self was growing stronger with every day. Their bond was too new, too nascent, not to allow the warning signals to affect her.

      Another long day at the studio behind her, she walked into the penthouse just after eight, kicked off her shoes and made herself a cup of tea. Carrying it into the living room, she sat reading a book while she waited for her husband. But the book failed to keep her attention.

      Weeks like this were the worst when Lorenzo was gone for nights on end. Old fears crept around her unsuspecting edges, insecurity set in. Given their dinners together at home had vaporized with her husband’s insane schedule and he refused to wake her up when he came to bed so late, she didn’t even have the comfort his passionate lovemaking offered, that seemed to make any obstacle seem surmountable.

      The minutes ticked by, her agitation rising. Perhaps now that Lorenzo had had his fill of her, now that he’d gotten everything he wanted, he would lose interest again. Perhaps whatever client he was out wining and dining tonight was a convenient excuse to stay away. Perhaps the emotional distance she’d sensed in him since Portofino was a reality.

      The clock struck ten. Discarding the book, she decided to take matters into her own hands. To be proactive rather than reactive. To take control of her relationship, something she hadn’t done the last time.

      In her bedroom, she dug out the lingerie she’d bought earlier that week and slipped it on. The sexy cream-and-black baby doll that just covered her pertinent assets was fairly indecent. She stared at herself in the mirror, rosy color stinging her cheeks. The cream lace bodice did nothing to hide the bold thrust of her nipples, the silk encasing her curves a seductive caress that was pure temptation.

      She pulled the elastic from her hair and let it fall around her shoulders the way her husband liked it. A slow smile curved her mouth. If this didn’t bring him running, nothing would.

      * * *

      Lorenzo arrived back at the table at the trendy restaurant in the meatpacking district, where he and his CMO were entertaining his Japanese business partners to find his phone sitting on his chair.

      An amused smile curved his CMO’s mouth. “Figured you might not want the whole table seeing that,” he said, nodding toward the phone. He leaned closer. “PS—I’d go home if I were you.”

      Lorenzo glanced at the screen. Almost choked on the sip of beer he’d taken. His wife dressed in a piece of lingerie he’d never seen before—an outrageously sexy piece, СКАЧАТЬ