Modern Romance March 2017 Books 5 -8. Natalie Anderson

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      He glanced at the message.

      Are you coming home?

      Heat claimed his cheeks. It took very little of his creative ability to imagine peeling that silk off of her. How she would taste under his mouth. He’d thought his crazy social schedule might prove an ideal cooling-off period for the two of them given the depth of the emotion they’d shared in Portofino. But this, this was too much to resist.

      “You didn’t see that,” he muttered to his CMO.

      “What?” Gerald said innocently. “I’ll cover for you if you want to make an exit.”

      Lorenzo tucked his phone into his pocket. Put his exit strategy into motion. Except his Japanese colleagues were intent on taking in the entertainment the club provided. It would be rude for him to cut the night short.

      He texted his wife back.

      Hold that thought.

      It was close to midnight, however, by the time he walked into the penthouse. Devoid of light, it was cast in shadows. He let out a low oath that turned the silent space blue and threw his jacket on a chair.

      Body pulsing with frustration, every ounce of his blood so far south it was never coming back, he reached up and loosened his tie. A flash of movement near the windows caught his eye.

      He took in his wife, silhouetted against the New York skyline, the sexy negligee plastered to every centimeter of her voluptuous body.

      Her breasts were bigger with the advance of her pregnancy, their lush, creamy expanse drawing his eye. That tantalizing glimpse of nipple beneath sheer, gauzy fabric made his mouth go dry.

      “You waited up.” His voice was husky, laced with a need he couldn’t hide.

      “I was on my way to bed.”

      Chilly. Distinctly chilly. He gathered his wits as he moved toward her. “I tried to get away, but my business colleagues were in from Japan. It would have looked rude to leave.”

      “It’s fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest, amplifying the view of the bare flesh he ached to touch.

      He reached for her. She stepped back. “I don’t think so.”

      “There was nothing I could have done, Angelina.”

      “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

      He caught her hand and pulled her to him, content to work his way back into her good graces. Her perfume drifted into his nostrils, a tantalizing tease that stroked the heat in him higher. “Clearly you’re angry,” he murmured. “Let me make it up to you. I’m so hot for you, cara mia. I will make it so good.”

      She 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 СКАЧАТЬ