The Billionaire’s Prodigal Wife (Mackenna and Alessandro)

Chapter 21

“Where were you?” Alessandro didn’t even look up.

She stuck her tongue out at his bent head. “Book store. Did you know my baby is the size of a lima bean?” She saw his eyes snap in her direction. “Oh, I’ve met my new muscle. Send him away. I can protect my own lima bean thank you.”

He stood up from the table and extended his hand for her bag. “You bought books?”

“Yeah, and then I spent the afternoon quietly reading about the size of my baby and how you may feel inadequate and unimportant as I start to put the child’s needs ahead of yours.” She held his gaze. “I’m supposed to do stuff to make sure you don’t feel this way, but I have a feeling even if I wanted you to have a taste of being second-rate, you’re so full of yourself you’d never notice anyway.”

She stepped past him and lifted the menu. “Are you leaving soon to go to Dulce?

“No. We’re going out to dinner.” “I thought she’s confined to bed.” She looked at him sideways.

Alessandro saw Carlos and Nuncio exchange a long look and he considered maybe having someone to witness him murdering his wife wasn’t a good idea. He turned to look at her.“I meant we, as in you and me, are going out to dinner. We’re going to celebrate our good news.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.” She did not want to go anywhere with him.

“Yes, you do. Your dress is on the bed and so are your shoes. Go take a shower and get ready.”

“Don’t order me around. If I don’t want to go, I’m not going. I might be stuck with you as my husband but it sure as hell doesn’t make you, my master.”

He looked to Carlos. “You can leave. I’ll call you when we’re ready to go.”

“Oh, you’re taking Carlos and Nuncio to dinner. How sweet of you to make up for their wasted trip.” She saw Nuncio covering his mouth with his hand as if trying to hide his smile, but his eyes danced, and she grinned at him behind Alessandro’s

back. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

new books and read all about my little lima bean.” She giggled as she rubbed her tummy and whispered to it. “Now that’s going to be a funny nickname.”

Alessandro was torn with wanting to kiss her senseless for the way she clearly in love with their unborn child and strangling her for making a serious attempt at making his life a living hell. He closed the door on Carlos’ laughter and turned to face

her. “I’ll ask in the future you not make a spectacle in front of the staff.”

“Tit for tat?” She asked with a lifted eyebrow. “How about you get rid of Dulce, and I’ll play nice in front of the staff?”

He pointed at her. “Mackenna, for the last time,”

“Save it Alessandro. I don’t care anymore. All I care about is my baby. If you feel the need to have two women to keep your libido in check, fine. Whatever. I just want my baby.” She rubbed her tummy and hummed as she walked to the bathroom, ignoring his furious hiss of breath and the way his footsteps pounded on the carpeting as he followed her into the bedroom.

She stopped moving as she took in the dress lying on the bed. It was one he’d designed when he’d been in her apartment while she’d napped. “You had it made?” She asked quietly as she dragged her feet to the edge of the bed and lifted the soft ice-blue material of the cocktail dress. “It’s stunning Alessandro.”

“Thank you.” He spoke seriously. “I’d like to see it on you. I have someone coming up to do your hair. She should be here soon so go take a shower.”

“Stop ordering me around!” She felt her hackles rising furiously. “If I don’t want to go out to dinner, I’m not going.” She folded her arms defiantly. “Who the hell gives you the right to bring someone to do my hair? I like my hair.”

“It needs a trim.” He pushed her fringe out of her eyes and she slapped his hand away. “Kira will be here soon.”

“Kira?” She felt her blood drain. “You expect me to let Dulce’s sister cut my hair? No thanks. I’d rather have a blind man with rusty scissors do it.”

“Kira is a nice girl.”

“I’m sure she is but I know where her allegiance lies, and I don’t want her

The force of her slamming the door of the bathroom made him jump. He rubbed his fingers across the bridge of his nose. He wanted a cigarette so bad in this moment and he was torn with going to the veranda to smoke and going to the bathroom and making her see reason. He chose the latter and knocked once on the door. “Mackenna, open the door please. I just want us to have a nice dinner together. We got off on the wrong foot today and I think we can make things better. It will not be good for our child if we’re constantly bickering.” The sound of her moving on the other side of the door caught his ear. “Mackenna, let me in. I want to share in the joy of our child, and you hide from me.”

He could hear running water as she turned the taps of the tub on, and he groaned and leaned his head against the door. “Mackenna.”

She kicked the door with her heel. “Stop whining Alessandro. It’s annoying.” She wiped tears off her cheeks as she waited for the water to fill.

“Open the door,” he pleaded. “I want to see you.”

He watched the handle turning and she opened it and glared at him. “Now you see me. So what?”

“Come here,” he held his arms out and pulled her into his grip. “If you do not want Kira to do your hair, I will send her away but there are many people who pay top dollar for her to do it. However, it is your choice. If you don’t want to go out to dinner, I will cancel our reservation and we will celebrate here in the suite all alone, just us.” He almost chuckled at the way she stiffened.

“I’d hate for the dress to go to waste.” She whispered as she decided being all alone with him in the quiet suite was not conducive to her peace of mind.

“Then you should go get in the tub and soak for a bit. Our reservations are in a couple of hours.” “I can do my own hair.” She protested weakly.

“Of course.” He kissed her lips softly. “Would you mind if when you are soaking, I take my shower?”

“No.” She shook her head as he turned her back into the bathroom and she

between wanting him and hating him. Perhaps one of her books would tell her if this was normal behaviour for a pregnant woman. She could hear him collecting his things in the bedroom as she quickly undressed and slid into the bubbles and the

turbulent jets.

Alessandro came into the bathroom and shut the jets down. “Out of the tub.” “What?” She stared at him. “Why?”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

He held up a book he’d grabbed off her bed. It had fallen open to one page, “this says you’re supposed to avoid whirlpools and saunas and Jacuzzis for the first trimester. It was opened to this page on the bed.”

“Wait. Are you telling me I can’t bathe?”

“You can bathe. No jets.” He shook his head as he quickly skimmed the paragraph. “Not until after the first three months.”

She sunk back into the tub. “Fine. No jets but I want the bubbles.”

He smiled widely at her, but he pointed firmly to the water. “No jets.” He bent down and kissed the top of her head.

She sighed blissfully. “I haven’t soaked in a tub since I was in Milan in my grandparents’ apartment. I stayed there so long my wrinkles had wrinkles.”

He chuckled as he moved to the sink and dug out his shaving gear. “Well, I won’t let you stay so long tonight. When is the last time you went dancing?”

She turned her head to look at him as he squeezed a white creamy lather on his cheeks. She used to love watching him shave. She turned so she was lying on her. belly in the tub and looked up at him. “I don’t know, maybe a month ago? Savannah took me the first weekend I got back from Milan. I carried her home.”

“Would you like to go tonight?” He asked her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. She sat up straight. He’d never taken her dancing before. “You want to go dancing?”

“Yes,” he smiled at her surprise.

“With me?” She was confused.

down his cheek and watched as her tongue ran across her lips. “I’ll teach you how to dance.”

“I’ll have you know I dance quite well. Savannah dated this Cuban guy and he taught us a bunch of Latin dances and then we took classes. I can samba and merengue and salsa and a few others too.”

He turned slowly to look at her. “You danced the salsa with some Latin lothario?

“I danced with him. Savannah slept with him. I was the better dancer. She was the better lover, or so she said.” She sunk backwards in the water as he moved closer to her, his fingers full of creamy lather as he reached for her. “Hey,” she protested as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back toward him, half out of the water and against his chest. “You’re getting your shirt all wet.”

He cupped his fingers around her chin. “You do not dance with anyone but me, understood?”

At first, she thought he was joking but then she saw the steely glint in his eyes and his lips were straight. “Alessandro. I don’t think you have the right to tell me who I can or cannot dance with or do you forget I’ve seen you with Dulce grinding on you in a nightclub?”

His lips bruised hers as he kissed her hard and quick on the mouth. “I mean it. If you want to go dancing, I will take you, but you dance with no one else.”

As he released her jaw and moved back to the sink she sunk back down in the water. “What if I said the rule should apply both ways?”

“Fine.” He said sharply.

“Fine.” She said with equal edge. But as she lay back in the water and watched him finish shaving, it dawned on her he had agreed to something she’d never thought he would, and her heart raced with the knowledge of it.