The Unwanted Wife (9 page)

“Go on, Theresa,” he prompted gently. “Get ready. Meet me down here in half an hour?” She nodded at the question in his voice.

Sandro remained extremely closemouthed about where they were going, ignoring Theresa’s increasingly desperate pleas for information. It was highly unusual for him not to tell her what to expect. He usually drilled information into her, what their hosts liked and what he wanted her to talk about. He always seemed afraid that she would mess it up somehow but he was markedly different this time, he seemed unusually relaxed and every time Theresa asked him to tell her about their eventual destination he told her not to worry about it. She stole irate peeks at his handsome profile, hating his nonchalance in the face of her edginess. He was dressed even more casually than she was, wearing name brand sweatpants that had definitely seen better days, battered sneakers of the same brand and jacket to match the pants.

“Stop staring,” he growled, not even sparing her a glance, keeping his eyes glued to the road ahead. “You’re making me nervous.”

Yeah right
! Mr Nerves of Steel, who handled the powerful Ferrari with grace and confidence, was nervous. She didn’t believe that for a second. She pursed her lips and diverted her gaze to the rapidly darkening horizon beyond her window. They had been driving for nearly forty minutes now and Theresa had no clue where they were. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes for a few moments, feeling like the past few weeks of uncertainty were finally catching up with her.

“We’re here…” Sandro’s voice jerked her out of her doze some time later and she stretched voluptuously before sitting up to take stock of their surroundings. The car was already parked in the driveway of a huge house. The place made their own, not immodest, house seem like a garden cottage. There were five other sleek and expensive sports cars parked in the driveway and every light, both inside and out of the house seemed to be on.

Theresa unbuckled her belt and was out of the car before Sandro could even move. She stood with her hands braced on the roof of the Ferrari and stared up the immense house in unabashed curiosity. She was aware of Sandro, rummaging about in the space behind the front seats before climbing out of the low-slung car with feral grace and rounding the bonnet to join her on the passenger side of the car.

“Theresa, I don’t want you to think that…” whatever he had about to say was cut off when another car, this one an expensive metallic-blue Lamborghini, slid to a stop behind theirs. Sandro glanced over and swore when he seemed to recognise the car.

The sole occupant emerged from the car in seconds and Theresa could see him quite clearly beneath the bright lights flooding the driveway. He was a tall, dark-haired,
gorgeous
man about Sandro’s age and he had a huge, friendly grin on his face as he strode over to join them. Theresa found herself helplessly admiring his sexy, loose-limbed gait. He was dressed in similar fashion to her husband, just sporting a different name brand on his sweat suit.

“De Lucci!” He greeted her austere husband with a hearty slap on the back.

“Max,” Sandro nodded in return, not seeming to share the man’s exuberance at all. He turned to fully face the man and placed a peremptory hand in the small of Theresa’s back to turn her as well. He kept his hand there even after they were both facing the other man.

“Who’s this gorgeous babe?” Max turned that killer smile on her and Theresa found herself helplessly returning it. Sandro levelled a fulminating glare at the other man, who seemed to take his ill-humour in stride and grinned even wider.

“My
wife
, Theresa,” Sandro snapped curtly, the warning in his voice more than a little obvious.

“You’re
married
to this goddess?” Max kept his very appreciative gaze on Theresa’s blushing face and his grin became a smile of genuine warmth. “I always
knew
you were a man of impeccable taste, De Lucci but I have to admit, my opinion of you has just sky-rocketed!” he held out a hand towards Theresa, who took it after only the slightest of hesitations.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” his smile gentled and he lifted her hand to his mouth, dropping a reverent kiss on the back of it. “I’m Max Kinsley.”

“Uh… T. Theresa,” she stammered, choking back a giggle at the man’s theatrics. She suspected that he was just trying to wind Sandro up and it seemed to be working because her husband’s hand had curled into a fist in the small of her back. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr Kinsley.”

“There will be
none
of this formality between us” He admonished. “I’m Max and
you
are Terri! Or Tessa if you prefer. Now, please… allow me to escort you inside.” His grip on her hand tightened slightly as he tugged her towards him but Sandro’s hand shot up to the elbow of her free arm.

“Her name is
Theresa
and I will be escorting my own wife inside!” Sandro gritted out through his teeth, obviously holding onto his temper by the barest of threads.

“How remiss of me,” Max said with feigned regret, releasing her slender hand with exaggerated reluctance. “I’d
completely
forgotten that you were there, De Lucci!” Sandro made a slight growling sound in the back of his throat and Theresa couldn’t stifle her giggle this time. Max looked delighted by the sound and stepped back with a jaunty little salute.

“We will continue our acquaintance inside,
Tessa
my darling” he promised before turning away and bounding up the stairs leading toward the front door of the house. He had a tog bag, which she hadn’t previously noticed, slung over one broad shoulder.

“I like him,” she smiled up at Sandro who was glowering at the front door that Max had just disappeared through.

“Don’t mistake his flirtation for anything more than it is, Theresa,” he muttered in warning. “He’s got a girlfriend.”

“I’m not a complete idiot, Sandro, he was needling
you
… quite successfully too, I might add.”

“
Dio
, this is not the best time to be arguing, Theresa,” he sounded weary. “Let’s try…”

“Are you coming in or what?” A voice interrupted whatever Sandro had been about to say and they looked up toward the house, where another tall, broad-shouldered man was silhouetted in the doorway.

“Come on,” Sandro muttered, taking her hand and picking up a tog bag similar to the one Max had been carrying. He led her to the front door, where the rugged man stepped aside to let them in.

“Hey, Sandro…” his casual greeting was followed by some more masculine back-thumping and this time the friendly overture was returned by Sandro.

“Gabe,” Sandro nodded, before tugging Theresa forward. “This is Theresa.”

“
Theresa
?” The man did a double take as he took a closer look at her, before he recovered from his astonishment with a warm smile. “I’m
very
happy to meet you. I’m Gabe Braddock.”

…And the penny
finally
dropped. Theresa stared up at the warmly smiling man and felt like a complete idiot for not connecting the dots sooner. It was Friday night, Sandro was dressed in his sports gear and he had brought her to his regular, bloody football game! How
typical
, the man certainly pulled out all the stops when faced with an obstacle but this was just despicable and so unbelievably obvious! He had given her no warning whatsoever. No wonder he was such a successful businessman, he was a master at manipulating a situation to his advantage and
this
was a classic example. Give the woman what she wants and maybe her rebellion will subside and she will get down to the business of being a human incubator!

“I’m
so
happy to meet you, Mr Braddock,” she said softly, taking the man’s proffered hand and disguising her anger and confusion behind a sweet smile. “Why, just
recently
I expressed a wish to meet you!” She refused to look at Sandro but she sensed him uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other. “And
here
we are…”

“Indeed,” the other man smiled even though it was obvious, in the way he glanced at Sandro, that he knew something was amiss. “I’m glad you overcame your aversion to football and decided to join us tonight. The guys will be delighted to meet Alessandro’s beautiful wife.” Her
aversion
to football? So that was how he’d explained away her conspicuous absences.

“And I’m looking forward to meeting them,” she said warmly. She was annoyed with Sandro and hurt by his transparent ploys to keep her appeased but this tall, broad-shouldered man with the warm smile seemed lovely and Theresa could not help but instinctively like him.

“Everybody’s around back, Sandro,” Gabe informed the silent man who stood at her back. “I’ll join you soon, I’m waiting for Bobbie.” He relinquished Theresa’s hand and grinned down at her. “Don’t let the guys flirt with you too much, Theresa. They’re an incorrigible lot and they’re suckers for a pretty girl!” He seemed to mean it, if his lingering glance over her blushing face was any indication.

“Enough with the flirting, Braddock,” Sandro suddenly growled, stepping forward to place a possessive hand on her elbow and Gabe’s grin took on a decidedly wicked slant.

“I can’t believe it…” he hooted his voice alive with discovery. “You’re
jealous
… of
me
!” The very idea was so ludicrous that Theresa laughed along with him but Sandro’s grip tightened on her elbow.

“I’m not jealous,” he retorted scathingly once their laughter had died down. “Just trying to protect my wife from your smarmy attentions, you smart ass.”

“No… I’m beginning to believe you kept her away from all of us for so long because you can’t handle the competition,” the other man ribbed with the nerve that only a long-standing friend would possess.

“I am confident of my wife’s excellent taste,” Sandro dismissed before trying to steer Theresa away but she resisted.

“Now hold on a second, Sandro… I haven’t exactly been spoiled for choice you know! I may find that my
taste
has changed…” Oh he did
not
like that, not one bit! He slanted a hard narrow-eyed glare at her that the other man, who was laughing in delight at her pithy comeback, did not see and Theresa tilted her chin stubbornly and met his glare with a defiant glare of her own.

“Ooh, I
like
her, Sandro,” Gabe finally laughed, wiping at his eyes. “She’s a feisty one.”

“Yes…” Sandro’s eyes warmed with reluctant amusement. “This I am beginning to realise.” He tugged at her arm again and before Theresa could say or do anything more, he was leading her away. She followed docilely until she was certain that they were out of sight and earshot of the other man before she yanked her elbow from his grasp and turned on him furiously.

“You despicable, manipulative
bastard
!” She seethed, venting her frustration by punching him in the chest for good measure. He grimaced and rubbed at the spot she had hit before stepping out of the range of her swing.

“What the
hell
is your problem?” He growled angrily.

“My problem?” She managed to keep voice just under a screech. “My problem is
you
! You lied to me…
again.
You said that this was a business thing.”

“Technically, it is… I am in business with at least five of the men here tonight!” He responded defensively.

“But this isn’t really business is it? This is your precious little football game, the one I wasn’t good enough to be invited to until
after
I threatened to leave you!”

“
You
said that you wanted to meet my friends,” he seemed genuinely baffled. “Now when I give you that opportunity, you go crazy! I don’t understand you at all…”

“The
only
reason you brought me here tonight was because you thought it would appease me. Throw the vicious dog a bone and it’ll soon be eating out of your hand!”

“More like vicious
bitch
,” he muttered beneath his breath and when he realised that she had heard him, he shrugged unrepentantly. “If you’re going to be using animal metaphors, you may as well get it
right
.”

“Fine, I’m a bitch…
whatever
!” She knew her response was childish but she was feeling more than a little put out by the situation.

“Look, I don’t understand why you’re so angry when
you
said you wanted to meet them.”

“A year ago… Eighteen months ago even but not
now
! Don’t you realise that this is too little too late?” She shook her head in frustration. “It’s like putting a band-aid on an amputation!”

“You’re being over-dramatic as usual,” he dismissed scathingly.

“Oh you
knew
what my reaction would be and the only reason you knew that was because you recognised how inadequate and pathetic this gesture really is.”

“And how do you figure that?” He asked defensively, crossing his arms over his broad chest and glaring down his beautiful nose at her.

“Why else would you be
so
sneaky about bringing me here?”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve been so ridiculous about going
anywhere
with me lately!” He snapped angrily. “I knew you’d refuse if I
asked
you to come here tonight, so I had to fabricate a business dinner. Recently you’ve done nothing but over-react to everything I say and do, as well as completely misread my intentions, so I couldn’t take the chance. I was hoping that for once I’d be wrong about you… but sure enough you had to go and be unreasonable about this too. You’re so determined to put a negative slant on everything I do these days, that you’re not willing to accept anything at face value. There are no ulterior motives here… I realised that you had a point about never meeting my friends, I realised that I have been…
unfair
and I wanted a chance to make it right,” she bit her lip, unwilling to trust him but unable to resist the earnestness in his eyes. He looked like he actually
meant
his words.