Falling for Her Husband (11 page)

“Then we try again. And we keep trying until you finally become pregnant.” He kept his voice calm, wanting her to be reassured that he would be happy no matter the outcome.

“I’m sure you look forward to the baby-making part of this situation, hmm?”

“Any time I have you naked in my bed, I’m happy, sweetheart.” He took a step toward her, caressing her cheek before letting his hand drop. “Now go take your test. Let’s get this over with.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, that little unsure smile still curling her lips. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” He kissed her quickly then swatted her butt, making her laugh. She darted off to the bathroom, the test still clutched in her hand, her purse still dangling from her shoulder. She closed the door behind her and he waited.

His arms crossed in front of him, tapping his toes nervously on the hard tile floor, he waited. Heard the toilet flush, heard the faucet being turned on. Still no Amber, no word, no crying, no laughter, no sound coming from within the bathroom at all until finally, finally the door opened.

Amber appeared, her expression glazed, the test dangling from her fingers. She held it out to him, her hand shaking, making the test shake too, but he saw the results. Saw the double pink line, which indicated that she was indeed pregnant.

With a shout, he grabbed hold of her by the waist and twirled her around in his arms, making her gasp and laugh. He laughed in return, clutching her close, a confusing combination of relief and joy and panic and euphoria overwhelming him.

“I’m so happy,” he murmured when he came to a stop, letting her body slide down along his until her feet settled on the floor. “So very happy. This is good news.”

“Is it?” she asked, sounding unsure. “Is it really?”

“Oh yes.” He pressed his hand against her cheek, gently forcing her to look up at him. “It is definitely good news. The best news ever. You’ve made me an incredibly happy man.”

“And you, my husband, have made me an incredibly happy woman.” She clutched him close, her face pressed against his neck and he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of his woman in his arms.

Savoring the feeling of learning that he was about to become a father for the first time.

This was a momentous day. One he would never forget.

Ever.

Chapter Fifteen

“I’m pregnant.”

Dr. Harris regarded Amber with a neutral expression, peering over the top of her glasses as she watched her. “How do you feel about that?”

Amber blew out a harsh breath. “Excited. Scared. Happy. Nervous.”

The psychologist offered her a gentle smile. “All normal reactions, especially considering your situation.”

“My situation?” Amber asked, frowning. What did she mean by that?

“Well, you’ve suffered a traumatic brain injury on top of other physical injuries in a car accident. You’ve quit working as a model, giving up on a career that greatly fulfilled you.”

God, she made it sound like Amber was making a huge mistake by having a baby. At the very least, it made her question her situation. “I also reconnected with my husband and now my marriage is stronger than ever.”

“Which is a wonderful thing, I agree.”

They both remained quiet, to the point that Amber started to squirm in her seat. “Our marriage is so strong that we’re creating a family,” Amber continued.

“Yes, you are.”

“I don’t mind that I’m giving up my career.”

A single brow rose. Dr. Harris was really good at that. “Are you sure?”

“Why would you say that?”

“You make that statement often, that you don’t mind that your career is over. As if you need to convince yourself,” the psychologist said carefully. “You meet with your former agent quite often, at least once a week? And then complain that you don’t like how Debbie hounds you to come back.”

“I don’t like how she gushes over me, basically begging me to model again,” Amber admitted.

“Then why do you continue to meet with her? If you don’t like it, stop seeing her. It’s as simple as that.”

Problem was, it didn’t feel that simple. There was something reassuring in having that contact from her past. Debbie linked her to the person Amber was before and she liked that. Yes, Vince linked her to that past self as well, but it was different. She was different with Vince.

“Debbie makes me feel safe. That I have options,” Amber murmured. “If it doesn’t work out with Vince, I know I could go right back to modeling if I needed to, even though I really don’t want to.”

“And you like having options.”

“Growing up, I never really did.” Amber shrugged. “Dealing with my father…and how my mother enabled him. I felt like I was trapped there. Modeling got me out, allowed me to travel and make money.”

“It allowed you to be free,” Dr. Harris pointed out. “And you like that. Your freedom.”

“You’re right. I do,” Amber said, staring at her hands curled in her lap but not really seeing them. “Sometimes I worry my marriage to Vince will make me feel…trapped. I wonder if that’s what I dealt with before. If that’s why our marriage was so rocky.”

“Could be.” Dr. Harris shifted in her seat, re-crossing her legs. “We haven’t talked about this in a while. Do you still wish you could remember that time of your life?”

“Absolutely. It drives me nuts that I can’t remember. I haven’t talked about it in a while because the memory loss frustrates me so much.” She mourned that loss. More than anything, she didn’t talk about it because Vince always seemed so reluctant to talk about it as well.

So she left it alone. It was easier that way.

“I have dreams sometimes…” Amber hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. What was a therapist for if she couldn’t confess something like this? She’d never told anyone about the bad dreams she’d had lately, especially not Vince. “They’re of my husband and I fighting.”

“Really?” She sounded completely neutral, but Amber had been going to her long enough to pick up on when Dr. Harris was interested in something she had to say. “What happens?”

“Well, it’s always the same thing.” Amber sat up straighter, leaning against the arm of the overstuffed chair she was sitting in. “Vince is chasing me along a crowded street and he’s yelling my name over and over. At first he sounds so mad. Then he just sounds…scared.” Pressing her lips together, she gathered up her courage to reveal the rest. “When he finally reaches me, I turn to face him and he gives me a look of such disgust I shrink away from him. Then he grabs me by the shoulders and he—he shoves me into the street. Right in front of a car.”

“Oh.”

Amber nodded, that one little sound her therapist emitted showing her just how shocked Dr. Harris was at her reveal. “I always wake up after the shove, though. It never goes beyond that.”

“You don’t think…” The psychologist paused, as if considering her words. “You don’t believe your husband might’ve pushed you in front of the car, do you? That he might’ve tried to hurt you on purpose? Because if he did…”

“No,” Amber said quickly, wanting to rush to her husband’s defense. “First of all, I’m sure witnesses would’ve stepped forward and said something. Second, Vince loves me. He would never do anything to hurt me.” Of course he wouldn’t. She had no doubt of that whatsoever.

“Okay. I agree with you after everything you’ve told me. But, Amber.” Dr. Harris leveled her with a look, her eyes narrowed, her mouth thin. “If you ever suspected any such thing, I want you to tell me immediately. Do you understand? I’m watching out for your safety.”

Amber laughed, though it sounded nervous so she clamped her lips shut. “That’ll never happen, Dr. Harris.”

Never. She was that sure of it.

“Why, Vince. What a pleasant surprise,” Debbie Kaye drawled as she entered his and Amber’s apartment.

Vince shut the door behind her just as she turned to face him, a fake smile plastered on her face. He would’ve slammed the door on her the moment he caught sight of her standing there, but she’d barged her way in, not giving him a chance to think, let alone try to close the door.

“Funny you call it a surprise when you’re the one who’s come to
my
home,” he stressed the word my, wanting her to know he wasn’t pleased that she was in his house.

Because he wasn’t.

“I was hoping Amber was here.” She strode toward the living area, craning her neck as if in search for Vince’s wife. “Yoo hoo, Amber darling,” Debbie called. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

“She’s not here,” Vince said through clenched teeth, wishing he could banish this woman to the deep, dark recesses in another world. He couldn’t stand the woman.

“Well. Where is she?” She whirled on him again, her hand resting on her chest, her eyes full of shock. Such bullshit. The woman was a Class A actress. Otherwise known as a complete phony.

“She’s at her weekly appointment with her therapist.” He knew Debbie was aware of this. They’d all been keeping a schedule these last few months and they rarely deviated from it unless Debbie was out of town.

“Right, right.” She tapped her pursed lips with her finger, her shiny black nail polish glinting in the light. “So I suppose congratulations are in order?”

“They are,” he said coolly, not moving fully into the living room. He hoped she wouldn’t get too comfortable. He wanted her out of here. “Thank you,” he added, hating to sound even a hint of grateful for anything this woman did or said to him.

“So sweet. A bouncing little gorgeous baby. What with you two as parents, the kid can’t go wrong.” Debbie waved a hand, as if dismissing her words and settled on his couch, making herself very comfortable.

Hell. There went his idea of getting rid of her quick. He entered the living room and settled in a chair across from Debbie. He’d be damned if he offered her something to drink or eat like a polite host would. He wasn’t polite, especially toward this woman. He kept his cool for his wife’s sake. “It’ll be a while before Amber returns.”

She smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Are you trying to get rid of me, darling?”

Well, she asked for it. “Yes.”

Debbie threw back her head and laughed, the sound grating on Vince’s nerves. Every single thing about this woman drove him absolutely crazy. He flat out couldn’t stand her. “I love your brutal honesty. It’s so attractive. Are all Italian men like you?”

“My brothers are.”

“Any of them available?” A hungry gleam lit her eyes.

Thank Christ that would be a no. “They’re both married.”

“Too bad.” She made a tsking noise and shook her head. “I was always so incredibly…jealous that Amber snagged you so quickly. You are quite a handsome man, Vincenzo Renaldi.”

Holy hell, where was this woman going with her comments? Somewhere decidedly uncomfortable, that’s all he knew. “Debbie, what is it you want, exactly?”

“Why, just to spend time with you, Vince. I rarely see you. It’s such a shame.” Debbie practically batted her eyelashes at him, which made him want to roll his eyes but he restrained himself. “I’ve missed you.”

“We barely know each other. And we barely tolerate each other…for Amber’s sake,” he pointed out, going for brutal truth again. The woman deserved it. She’d taken their conversation on a decidedly weird turn and he had no time for such games.

“Again with the honesty. I find it so incredibly refreshing. Amber is a lucky, lucky girl.” She leaned forward, as if she was about to share a delicious secret. “So tell me. Does Amber know the truth of your relationship yet?”

Unease slipped down Vince’s spine, leaving his skin ice cold. “What are you talking about?”

“Before the car accident? All the dirty details she’s so conveniently forgotten? Does she know the truth yet, Vince? Have you told her? Honesty is the best policy, you know,” she practically sing-songed.

“We had our—troubles,” he reluctantly admitted. “But that was all. Nothing that we couldn’t fix, and we fixed them.”

“Nothing that a little amnesia couldn’t fix, more like. That’s the best cure,” she said, breaking out into a big grin again.

He wanted to slap that smile right off her face. “Are you trying to threaten me? Force me to do something? Because if that’s the case, you may as well leave right now.”

Her smile turned dark, almost menacing. “I’m not that cruel, darling. But I will say, you should tell your sweet little Amber the truth. That your marriage was this close to divorce, and your wife was tempted to stray. She’d confessed to me more than once her suspicions that you cheated on her all the time.”

Anger heated his blood and made him clench his fists. The most frustrating part? He didn’t know if what Debbie was saying was the truth or not. Had Amber ever said something like that to her? Or was it all lies in the hopes that he would become angry? “Get out,” he gritted from between his teeth. “You’re not welcome here.”

“I’m sure Amber would beg to differ,” Debbie purred as she stood, her expression indignant.

“It doesn’t matter because Amber isn’t here.” He followed Debbie to the front door, nearly growling when she turned and caused him to bump into her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Goodness, you’re solid muscle.” Debbie reached out, slipped her hand along his right shoulder. He stepped away from her, disgusted at her touch, at the way she looked at him, like he was a tasty piece of meat and she was positively starving. “I bet you give Amber a thorough workout every night.”

“You’re disgusting,” he snarled. “Get out.”

He didn’t understand her motives. She claimed to be a friend of Amber’s. That she only wanted the best for his wife and her career. So why would she come on to him so strongly? She seemed determined to break them up, which he didn’t understand.

But of course, without him in the picture, she could have Amber all to herself.

Debbie laughed. “And you’re a sensitive thing, aren’t you? Goodness, I can’t even offer you a compliment before you get all huffy.”

The woman tested his very patience. Throwing open the door, he pointed the direction in which he wanted her to go—out. “Goodbye, Debbie.”

“Ta ta, darling. Wish I could’ve stayed longer. Give Amber my regards, will you?” She exited his apartment in a rush, leaving behind an overpowering cloud of perfume in her wake. Grimacing, he slammed the door behind her, pissed that he let her inside.

Angrier that he let her words get to him so thoroughly, just as she’d planned.

The doubt that hung over him had much to do with his own dishonesty with his wife. They were happy. They were going to have a child, for the love of God, and he still couldn’t tell her what really happened just before her accident. Someday, she could remember.

Someday, she could come home furious with him that he never told her the truth. He didn’t know what he would do if that day ever came.

That was why he needed to beat it to the punch. He needed to come clean and confess. She wouldn’t be mad. Enough time had gone by now and their love was so strong, she would surely forgive him. She had to.

He needed her to.