Page 19 of Pregnant in the Italian's Palazzo

It had been a little over four weeks since the night she’d spent with Nysio on the jet. She hadn’t had a regular period since going on birth control, so missing her cycle this month hadn’t even made her think twice. She pushed away the niggling concern of what else might be causing her symptoms and instead distracted herself with the memories of the previous night when Nysio had held her hair back while she was ill. Not exactly the romantic last night together that she’d hoped for.

‘Smooth moves, Dane.’ She covered her face, hardly believing she had blown their final night together so spectacularly. And now she was being even more ridiculous by worrying when she had a flight to prepare for. She shook her head, staring at her reflection in the gilded mirror above the vanity. She was still paler that usual, which was saying something considering she had been born with the world’s palest complexion. Her eyes were glassy and her hair was...completely beyond salvation. She settled for a quick swish of mouthwash she found in a cabinet and a bracing splash of water on her face before trying to finger-comb her frizz.

Giving up on trying to look presentable, she inhaled a deep breath and opened the bathroom door only to walk face first into Nysio’s very warm, very naked chest. The intoxicating scent of him enveloped her with its drugging warmth and she just barely resisted the urge to bury her face in further before sanity intervened.

If this man had still been harbouring any illicit fantasies about her, she was pretty sure she’d done a top-notch job of obliterating any chance she had after last night’s embarrassing performance.

He had most definitely seen her at her worst, and when she took a hasty step backwards and reluctantly met his gaze she was met with a strange look on his face that she was pretty sure was pure pity.

‘You still look unwell,’ he drawled, his voice a husky rasp from sleep.

‘You’re such a flatterer,’ she mumbled, squirming a little under the intensity of his assessing gaze. He seemed to scan her for a moment before moving aside, allowing her space to awkwardly shuffle past him in the doorway. Likely he was keeping his distance, in case whatever she had was contagious. She realised he was still wearing a fancy robe, briefly taking in the dark hair on his chest and realised that he in fact was wearing matching silk lounge pants. It was so quintessentially posh that she would most definitely have smirked and made a joke under normal circumstances. Of course, nothing about their situation was normal, nor had it ever been really.

He stepped back, pulling the front of his robe closed in a way that made Aria wonder if he’d actually heard her thoughts. Or perhaps he thought she was ogling him, which she most definitely was not. Well...it was hard not to look at a body like his, especially when he was flaunting it mere inches from her face.

Realising she had begun to blush again, she folded her arms and tried to ignore how the movement made her chest ache uncomfortably. ‘I’m sorry about last night. You didn’t have to...mind me.’

‘You needed minding.’ He reached out and touched her cheek, scanning her face once more. He was looking at her in much the same way she’d seen him analyse his computer screen on the handful of occasions she’d spied him working. As if she were a puzzle he needed to solve and he would get his answers through sheer force of will.

‘Well...thank you. I’m fine now. I promise.’ She stepped around him, her chest accidentally brushing his forearm. She winced at the pain in the tender peaks. She glanced up to find concern lacing his brow.

‘Are you feverish? Can I check?’

She didn’t answer, her vacant silence apparently acting as consent for Nysio to step closer to continue playing amateur doctor, his cool hands touching her cheeks and forehead.

‘You seem fine, but the doctor will know better.’

‘You called a doctor?’ She looked up at him, anxiety making her voice sound small and fragile. She only half listened as Nysio wondered aloud if she was experiencing food poisoning...or a viral infection...or maybe even both at once. He continued to talk, listing off the doctor’s qualifications as he washed his hands at the small sink, then paused in the doorway of the bathroom to survey her in silence.

Exhausted, she moved to sit on the edge of the bed, only to feel a cool hand upon her elbow, guiding her away from the soft heavenly mattress and into a nearby chair.

He produced a tray, one that she was pretty sure hadn’t been there when she’d awoken. Upon it were some paracetamol, some still water and one of those sachets of electrolytes claiming to be berry flavoured but that just tasted like dirty water.

She was silent as he handed her the pills to take while he set about preparing the drink. Then he sat and watched while she swallowed and sipped, his brow furrowed as he appeared deep in thought.

‘Is there anything that I can do?’ he asked, eventually breaking the silence.

Aria felt her mouth move but no sound escaped. Even as something within her snapped to attention, she shook her head on the pure reflex of not wanting to be a burden. Of not wanting to ask this man for help even though he’d made it quite clear time and time again that he quite liked being of practical assistance. She liked being minded by him too.

He went to get dressed, blessedly leaving her alone for a moment to gather her feelings back into her chest where they were safer and far less likely to make a mess. She closed her eyes, hoping that the doctor would arrive quickly and give her a clean bill of health. Then there would be no more delaying the inevitable. It was past time to get back to normal life.

‘Miss Dane...is there a chance that you may be pregnant?’

Aria stared at the pretty blonde doctor who sat perched on the opposite end of the low coffee table in the suite’s living area where the dawn light had just begun to filter in through the windows. She blinked, half thinking she’d misheard the question. It was absurd. She was vaguely aware of Nysio’s swift intake of breath nearby but couldn’t muster the courage to look at him.

‘No.No...Definitely not. I’m on birth control. I have an implant in my arm.’

‘Birth control is not always effective, and you wrote down here that your last cycle was more than six weeks ago. Is it a possibility?’

But as she sat in choked silence, her subconscious continued to analyse the past week and howdifferentshe’d been feeling. The food aversions, the vague nausea she’d thought was anxiety, the tender breasts, even feeling more exhausted than usual.

‘It might be a possibility,’ she said hoarsely, the last word coming out as a whisper.

‘Cosa?’Nysio frowned at her with confusion, then straightened abruptly. ‘You think...you might be...’

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘Well...I shouldn’t be.’

‘But you might be.’ He stared at her, his gaze unflinching, the sharp tilt of his brows utterly unreadable.

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